The Damned Demon

Chapter 770: An Alternative Solution



Ceti trudged through the ruined streets of the Bloodburn Kingdom, her dark blue eyes scanning the desolation that stretched endlessly before her while still trying to process Silvan's betrayal.

The cries of battle echoed in her ears, mingling with the anguished screams of citizens who had been caught in the chaos. Smoke billowed up into the crimson sky, the air thick with ash and the stench of blood. Her heart clenched at the state of her kingdom, each step feeling heavier than the last.

As she moved closer to the central parts of the kingdom, her dismay deepened. Draconian soldiers were pressing hard against the kingdom's defenses, their blood-red eyes gleaming with sadistic glee as they overpowered the Bloodburn soldiers.

The once-proud defenders of the kingdom were being cut down one by one, their cries of defiance turning into guttural screams as they fell under the relentless assault.

Most of the powerful Houses like House Alleister, its nobles along with the commoners serving them were cut down, and their men and women slaughtered or worse. Even their grand mansions were reduced to ashes, and the lands scorched.

Ceti's fists clenched tightly at her sides, her nails digging into her palms. She wanted to charge forward, to do something, anything, to turn the tide. But she knew that this wasn't just a battle; it was a slaughter. The draconians weren't just fighting to win-they were fighting to annihilate.

They weren't even showing any mercy to the unarmed and powerless citizens, butchering the elderly and the men who were begging for mercy while raping the women and taking away the children to be used as slaves.

She wanted to stop them all, but with a heavy heart, she knew she still had her duty to fulfill. If she didn't, even worse things would happen, even if everything seemed hopeless.

As she continued to hurry back to reach her post, she reached a hill overlooking the city's heart, her steps faltering. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw something that made her blood run cold.

In the distance, Flaralis, the mighty dragon who had long stood as a symbol of the kingdom's strength, let out a deep, spine-chilling groan.

Its massive body trembled as its legs buckled beneath it, crashing into the blood-soaked ground with a resounding thud. The ground shook under the weight of its fall, sending a shockwave of despair through the defenders who still stood.

Flaralis's once-magnificent dark golden scales were marred with deep gashes, its blood pooling beneath its colossal form.

"No..." Ceti whispered, her voice trembling as her eyes darted toward Rowena and Isola, who stood near the fallen dragon.

Rowena, her whip in hand, was bleeding heavily, her movements slower and more labored than Ceti had ever seen.

Her crimson flames flickered weakly, as if struggling to stay alight while her face looked devastated upon seeing the fall of her dragon.

Rowena felt as if a part of her heart was ripped away as she looked at Flaralis' crimson eyes softly looking at her despite the life within them ebbing away.

"Flaralis..." Rowena called out in a voice that barely escaped her throat, knowing she wouldn't have fallen like this if not for enduring so many attacks from Drakar and his men to protect her.

Some think of this dragon as just a beast companion, but to her, this noble and wise dragon was more like a silent mother who guarded and protected her ever since she was born.

Beside her, Isola fought valiantly with her staff, her illusions of blood-red roses swirling in a futile attempt to keep the draconians at bay and to let Rowena have a moment to grieve the loss of her dragon.

But even her powers seemed to falter, her movements less graceful and more desperate.

Rowena wiped the blood trickling off her lips as she heard Isola's breaths become sluggish, realizing she couldn't afford to drown in pain...not yet. And with strength stemming from her grief and pain, she raised her whip once more to fight alongisde Isola.

However, Ceti, who was observing all this, could see that the Umbralfiends that had come with Isola were all cut down except for just a few dozen.

What shook Ceti further was the sight of the four Bloodborn Guards, warriors sworn to protect their queen, fighting alongside Rowena and Isola.

They wielded their dark weapons with deadly precision, their faces grim as they formed a protective line around the two women.

For them to abandon their post inside the castle, despite Rowena's orders to stay and guard the key, could only mean one thing: they knew their queen would die without their intervention.

Ceti's heart sank as she realized how dire the situation had become. Rowena's strength was faltering, likely due to the growing child in her womb-a secret few knew but one that Ceti couldn't ignore. It was a vulnerability, and one that was now threatening to bring down the kingdom. If Drakar learns about it, he might even plan sinister things.

The draconian soldiers encircled them like vultures, their numbers overwhelming. The Bloodborn Guards were powerful, but she could see that even they were beginning to falter under the relentless assault. She could see it in the way their stances wavered, in the way their attacks grew slower. They wouldn't last much longer.

Her mind raced as a sense of helplessness clawed at her. She was strong but not strong enough. but even she knew that charging into that fray would only add another body to the

pile.

If only the truly powerful werewolf sleeping inside her would wake up then she could probably help Rowena and Isola.

'Luna...why aren't you waking up in a moment like this? How many times should I beg you to help us?' Ceti once again pleaded to the hidden powerhouse in her body, desperately hoping Luna would heed her desperate requests. But even after trying to reach her hundreds of times, Luna wasn't coming out, and maybe she couldn't. Ceti still had no idea why Luna was forced to hide in her body.

Her fists trembled as she struggled to make a choice. Isola was her sister, and Rowena was not only her queen but another sister as well, a woman she had sworn to protect with her life. But how could she protect them against such impossible odds?

A memory of Asher flickered in her mind-his presence, his strength, the way he could inspire hope even in the darkest of times. He was the only one who might have the power to turn the tide of this battle...only if he was here. The thought was maddening; he had left the kingdom without a word, and she couldn't find out why from Rowena. Why was he still not here??

But right now, she couldn't afford to waste time thinking about the unknown. She needed an alternative solution.

Taking a deep breath, Ceti clenched her fists tightly, the resolve in her eyes hardening. She had made her choice. Pulling a small, curved whistle from her belt, she brought it to her lips and blew. The sound was shrill and piercing, cutting through the chaos of battle. Moments later, the sky above her darkened as her flying beast descended, its massive wings stirring the air with powerful gusts. The creature's dark silver scales shimmered faintly, and its piercing dark yellow eyes looked down at her with intelligence and loyalty.

Ceti wasted no time, climbing onto its back and gripping the reins tightly, "Take us out of here," she commanded, her voice firm despite the storm of emotions raging within her, "Fly as fast as you can."

The beast let out a low growl of acknowledgment before launching into the air, its powerful

wings carrying them above the battlefield. The winds rushed past her face, and she looked down at the kingdom below, her heart aching at the sight. Fires raged unchecked, the streets were littered with corpses, and the once-proud walls of the castle were crumbling under the

relentless assault.

Her eyes darted back to the hill where Rowena, Isola, and the Bloodborn Guards stood. Her whip lashed out weakly, her body swaying slightly as she fought to stay upright. Isola's staff glowed faintly, her illusions faltering as the draconian soldiers pressed closer. The guards were barely holding the line, their breaths labored and their stances desperate. "Hold on, Rowena," Ceti whispered under her breath, her eyes shimmering with a mix of guilt and determination, "I will make sure to come back with help."n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Her beast let out a guttural roar as it surged forward, carrying her away from the chaos and

toward the one person who she never expected she would seek. She clenched her jaw, her thoughts swirling with urgency and hope.

Time was running out, but she refused to let despair consume her. She would head to that place and meet that man if she hated him.

The wind howled as Ceti's flying beast continued to soar through the sky, its powerful wings

cutting through the crisp air.

Her eyes scanned the land below, her instincts heightened. Suddenly, she felt it-a collective, overwhelming aura rising from the ground like an oppressive wave. Her heart skipped a beat, her instincts screaming that she had finally come

upon them.

Without hesitation, she urged her beast downward. The massive creature let out a guttural growl, folding its wings and diving gracefully toward the ground. As the land came into view, Ceti's brows raised in astonishment.

Below her stretched an endless sea of werewolves, tens of thousands strong, their fur gleaming in hues of silver, gray, and black under the dim light of the crimson moon.

All the werewolf clans in the world had come together...a sight she never thought she would see in her life, and of course, it wouldn't be possible without that old man.

At the forefront marched the Moonbinder Clan, their white fur and blood-red eyes standing out like ghostly phantoms amidst the tide of fur and fangs.

The synchronized movement of the werewolves, their disciplined silence, sent a chill down her spine. They were marching in the direction of the Bloodburn Kingdom-and they were an army unlike any she had seen before.

Her gaze shifted to the figure leading the legion. He was not in his werewolf form but appeared in his base form, though everything about him was anything but ordinary.

His skin was a deep, unsettling red, veins bulging like the roots of an ancient, forbidden tree.

His thick, white hair and mustache framed a face that carried the weight of centuries. His eyes, gleaming blood-red, were sharp and focused.

The old man's physique was imposing, his white chiton doing little to hide the bulging

muscles beneath. His body seemed to pulse with a volatile energy, his presence exuding a terrifying mix of authority and raw power.

He walked with a grace that belied his massive frame, each step commanding silent

obedience from the legions behind him.

Suddenly, the old man stopped in his tracks. The entire army halted instantly, their

movement synchronized as if they shared one mind.

His head tilted upward, his piercing gaze locking onto Ceti as she descended, "So you finally

came..." He mumbled in a low voice, his lips curving ever so slightly.