Craige kept slicing through the Velgarith soldiers without pause, his blade flashing
crimson with every swing. Blood streaked his face and body, making him look like a demon born from the battlefield.
The Velgarith soldiers trembled in fear. To them, he was no longer a man but a monster. Some broke ranks and fled, yet more kept coming as if their army had no end, pouring soldiers into the fight like a never-ending tide.
Craige's mind burned with only one thought—end this battle and reach Velgarith to save
Luren. But the swarm was endless. His men were outnumbered, their borders already under siege, and no reinforcements could come.
From the rear, the Velgarith general watched, eyes narrowing at the sight of the terrifying Duke of the North. Even outnumbered, the Seravelle forces held, and the Duke cut through men like death itself.
"Monster…" the general hissed, then raised his hand. "Archers, aim for the Duke. Bring him down. He cannot dodge fire raining from the skies."
His grin widened, cold and merciless.
"But General—our men will be caught in the flames!" a soldier protested, voice
trembling.
"As long as the monster dies, sacrifices must be made. Casualties are the price of war,"
the general replied without hesitation.
The soldier stiffened, saluted, and relayed the order.
"Archers, to position!"
The sound of thousands of bows pulling back filled the air, a dreadful chorus of taut
strings.
"Fire!!!"
Flames erupted across the battlefield as arrows ignited, painting the darkened sky in
a blood-red glow. The fiery storm rose higher and higher, before beginning its deadly descent, straight toward Craige.
"Your Grace!!!" Borg shouted in horror as he spotted the flaming arrow streaking
through the air toward the Duke. He tried to push through, but the sea of enemies surrounding him kept their blades raised, forcing him back. No matter how hard he fought, he could not reach his liege.
The Seravelle soldiers froze in shock, their eyes wide as the sky lit up with fire. One by one, they realized the Duke was the target, and panic rippled through their ranks. Some Velgarith soldiers dropped their weapons and fled, unwilling to be consumed in the inferno that was about to descend.
Craige knew escape was impossible. His body was battered and bleeding, every step heavier than the last. His stomach wound had reopened, burning with pain, but he did
not falter. As the enemy scattered, he stood alone in the storm, bracing himself. He lifted his arms to defend, to cast aside as many flaming arrows as he could, but his strength was waning.
"Luren…" he whispered, his voice trembling with both pain and longing. All he wanted was to see him once more. His vision blurred, yet through the haze he caught sight of his men charging desperately toward him, their faces twisted in fear and desperation. He tried to lift his arm to reassure them, to command them, but it would not move.
"Your Grace!!!" the soldiers cried, their voices breaking as the first wave of fire
rained down. The sky itself seemed to shatter, flames consuming everything in
their path. The soldiers screamed, some in agony as the blaze touched them, others in despair as they watched their Duke swallowed by the inferno.
Borg's sword slipped from his hand as he fell to his knees, the fire reflected in his
tear-filled eyes. His chest heaved with helpless rage and grief, he had sworn
his life to protect the Duke, yet now all he could do was watch.
---
Luren woke up in the middle of the night, his body drenched in sweat, yet his skin felt
cold as ice. His chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, he had just escaped from the grip of a nightmare.
"Craige…" he whispered, hugging himself tightly as his trembling hand slowly reached down to touch his belly.
"I know your daddy is fine," he murmured softly, though tears betrayed him, slipping
silently down his cheeks.
"Are you okay?" Kali's gentle voice broke through the silence as he stepped closer,
holding a glass of water. He carefully handed it to him.
"Thank you," Luren whispered, taking it with shaky fingers. Their beds were close, he
must have disturbed him with his sudden movements. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to
wake you."
"No worries," Kali replied, sitting down beside him. His voice carried a weariness
that spoke louder than his words. "I'm always alert anyway. I can't rest easy here… not knowing that at any moment the King might walk in."
Luren's heart ached as he looked at him. He could feel not only his own fear but the
heavy weight of their shared suffering in this place, a silent torment that lingered every second, stealing sleep, peace, and hope.
"Do you know Yael?" he asked softly.
Kali's eyes widened in surprise before a smile slowly spread across his face.
"Is Yael safe?" he asked with concern, his voice trembling a little as he sat on Luren's
bed.
"Yes," Luren replied warmly. "He also gave birth to a baby girl." His lips curved into
a gentle smile as fond memories of them filled his mind.
"I'm happy…Yael finally found happiness," Kali whispered, tears welling in his eyes.
"You will find it too," Luren said, reaching out and holding his hand firmly, his voice steady with reassurance.
Kali blinked, his chest tightening with emotions. "I've been meaning to ask… are you truly the Prince of Elarion? And the Duchess of the North?" he asked hesitantly, lowering his gaze. "Forgive me—I overheard the servants speaking of it."
Luren gave a small nod. "Yes… and that's why we must all leave this place. But I'll need
your help."
Determination lit up in Kali's eyes as he straightened his back. "Then I will help you, no matter what it takes."
Luren's smile deepened, his heart warmed by the sincerity in Kali's words. He gave a
firm nod.
Morning came in the cold, unwelcoming stone castle.
"Are we allowed to go out?" Teo asked cautiously as the four omegas pushed the heavy door open.
"Yes, but only inside the palace," Lian replied with a low voice, his eyes glancing at the guards stationed nearby. "If we step outside the castle walls, we'll be shot with arrows."
"We should go to the kitchen and eat," Nim said with a faint smile, trying to lift the
heavy mood. "The King doesn't want us to starve to death… he still needs an heir from an omega," he added bitterly.
They proceeded down the cold corridor toward the kitchen, their footsteps echoing
against the stone walls.
Just as they were about to enter, Luren froze. His ears caught the hushed whispers of
two servants gossiping near the doorway.
"I heard…" one whispered.
"A rain of fire showered down on the Monster Duke in the battlefield."
Luren's chest tightened, his breath caught. His body went cold, as if the very air in
the castle turned to ice around him.
"Did he survive?" the other servant asked in a hushed, uneasy tone.
"If he did…after that… then he must really be a monster," the first servant replied coldly.
Luren's chest tightened instantly, his breath caught in his throat. The world around
him blurred, and panic clawed at his lungs.
"Luren!!!" Kali rushed to his side, catching him as his knees buckled.
"Let's go back to the room," Teo urged, quickly moving to support Luren on the other
side. His voice trembled with worry.
"Everything will be okay," Kali whispered, though his own voice was shaken. He had also heard the servants' words, and the fear in his eyes betrayed his attempt at comfort.
Tears streamed down Luren's face. His heart screamed to run, to break free and find Craige, to see with his own eyes if he was still alive.
"Luren, breathe… think about your baby," Gin said softly, placing a steadying hand on
his back. His tone was desperate but gentle, trying to anchor him to the present.
"Should we call for a doctor?" Teo asked, his brows furrowed in panic.
"I don't know if they'll provide one…" Lian answered sadly, his voice heavy with
helplessness and concern.
"Luren!!!" they shouted in panic, their voices trembling with fear as his body went limp
and he lost consciousness.