Rain still fell after the clash, the abandoned garden littered with blood and broken ground. Elizabeth trembled, her heart pounding violently in her chest.
Seraphim slid his blade back into its sheath, his eyes heavy with the weight of ages. He turned to her.
"The time has come… for you to learn what the Blood Oath truly is."
He led her and Lucas into an ancient chapel hidden deep within the forest. By candlelight, murals painted upon stone walls revealed the story of the oath's origin.
"Centuries ago, your ancestors forged a pact with mine to end an endless war. The blood of both lines was bound together… but cursed. If a successor ever refused the bond, both families would fall into ruin."
Elizabeth stepped back, her voice shaking.
"So you're saying… I'm forced to be with you forever?"
Seraphim's gaze burned with pain.
"Yes… but I don't want it to be a curse. I want you to choose me with your heart."
Lucas, who had remained silent until now, clenched his fists.
"This isn't fair! Elizabeth shouldn't have to carry the sins of ancestors! She deserves freedom, not a chain!" His voice cracked with fury and love unspoken.
The chapel grew thick with tension. Elizabeth's eyes darted between them — one, a man cursed yet bound to her fate; the other, her childhood friend willing to sacrifice everything.
Her heart felt torn in two… while the shadow of the Rosaria clan loomed ever closer.
The sky darkened, the moon swallowed by storm clouds. Thunder roared, echoing the fury of two clans facing each other in the ruins of the old city.
On one side stood the Astraea clan, led by Seraphim with his blade drawn.
On the other stood the Rosaria clan, their leader's eyes sharp with arrogance, his voice cutting through the storm:
"The girl's blood belongs to us! She is the true heir of the Blood Oath!"
Elizabeth's body trembled as the truth weighed down on her —
Her father had once been heir to Astraea, but fell in forbidden love with a woman of Rosaria.
She was the child of both bloodlines.
The heir both sides desired… the key to power.
Steel clashed against steel, sorcery cracked through the night. Screams and cries filled the air as the battle raged violently around her.
Elizabeth closed her eyes, tears streaming down her face. She could not bear to see those she loved destroy one another.
Then, with a sudden surge of resolve, she stepped forward and cried out:
"STOP!"
Her voice thundered through the chaos.
"As the heir of both bloodlines, I command this bloodshed to end NOW!"
All eyes turned toward her.
Blood dripping from a cut on her hand struck the ancient stones beneath her feet, glowing with an otherworldly light. The ground pulsed with ancient power awakening.
Seraphim froze, wide-eyed.
Both clan leaders hesitated, caught in the spell of her presence.
And for the first time, Elizabeth stood tall — not as a victim of destiny, but as the true heir of the Eternal Blood Oath.
Blood dripped from the jagged cut on her palm, each crimson drop striking the ancient stones beneath her feet. With every drop, the stones shivered, glowing faintly at first, then with an otherworldly light that crawled along the cracks like living fire. The ground pulsed beneath her, an ancient heartbeat awakening after centuries of slumber.
Seraphim froze, his breath caught in his throat. His hands, which had always been steady in command, trembled slightly as he watched the energy spiral upward, coiling around Elizabeth like a serpent of flame and shadow. He could almost hear the whispers of long-forgotten ancestors murmuring in awe and warning.
Both clan leaders, proud and stoic in their jeweled robes, felt a flicker of fear they had not known before. Their eyes widened, and their carefully maintained composure faltered as they were drawn into the spell of her presence. The banners behind them rustled though there was no wind, shadows twisting unnaturally as the stones beneath them throbbed with the rhythm of some ancient, awakening power.
Elizabeth's own heart pounded like a war drum, yet her face held a serenity that belied the chaos around her. For the first time, she stood tall—not as a pawn of fate, nor a victim of the machinations of the Eternal Blood Oath—but as its true heir. Her gaze swept across the gathering, commanding without a word, her aura blazing with authority and destiny entwined.
The glow from the stones intensified, bathing the entire hall in an ethereal radiance. Silken shadows danced along the walls, echoing the power that now surged from her veins. She felt the weight of countless ancestors, their hopes and warnings mingling with her own resolve. And in that singular, electric moment, Elizabeth understood: the era had shifted. She was no longer a girl bound by fear—she was the embodiment of the covenant itself.