I Got Married to a Yandere Queen
Chapter 38 - 37 - The Horde’s Demise

Chapter 38: Chapter 37 - The Horde’s Demise

Riven fought the bear with all his might.

Crysthalis rose again, slicing through the air with a swift swing—but once more, it only left a shallow scratch on the creature’s hide. Every strike was met with claws and a body that launched like a bullet. Riven stepped back, leapt to the side, then attacked from another angle. But there were no openings. No weak spots. The creature’s flesh was like living steel, and its strength seemed endless.

The bones in his legs ached each time he pushed his body to dash and pivot. His breath shortened, pain radiated from his ribs to his shoulder, but he didn’t stop.

"Don’t stop..."

Slash.

Evade.

Turn.

Counterattack.

But all of it felt like cutting mist. Achieving nothing but exhaustion. His body began to scream. The wound on his thigh tore wider. Blood dripped down, blurring his vision. But still, he pushed forward.

Until finally—

One strike missed.

The bear’s claw struck his left side—not a full hit, but enough to send Riven crashing to the ground.

THUD!!

His back slammed into the dirt, air knocked out of his lungs. For a moment, the world spun. His vision blurred. The taste of metal filled his mouth.

The bear roared, then began approaching slowly. Its claws dragged against the earth, and each step sounded like the toll of fading time.

Riven gritted his teeth. He forced his body upright, leaning on Crysthalis, which was now buried crookedly in the ground. His left hand trembled. His right felt numb.

"Get up..." he thought—not to his body, but to his soul.

He tried to stand fully. His knees trembled, but he forced them.

The bear was now only a few meters away. Its breath came heavy, like fog in the night.

But Riven didn’t retreat.

Even as his body threatened to collapse, something in his eyes lit up again—a small flame, but stubborn. A flame that refused to die just because it failed.

He stared straight into the bear’s eyes. No longer with confusion, but with resolve.

"If I can’t recall that clarity," he murmured, "then I’ll find it again through blood and what breath remains."

Crysthalis rose again.

Shaking.

And Riven charged once more.

Driven by sheer survival instinct, he grabbed a dagger from beneath his cloak—a small weapon, but sharp enough to make a difference.

Without hesitation, he hurled it straight at the bear’s face.

The dagger flew through the air, grazing the creature’s head—narrowly missing its eye. A thin trail of blood followed, but it wasn’t a serious wound.

Yet it was enough.

The bear snarled, its head flinching slightly from the sudden pain. For a fraction of a second, its focus broke.

And Riven moved.

His body surged forward—at full speed, no longer dodging but charging head-on. Like an arrow loosed without the intent to return.

The bear realized it and, with a furious roar, raised a claw, ready to shred the small creature that dared come so close.

But Riven had accounted for that.

In the final second, he twisted in midair—a half-turn, not perfect, but just enough to alter his angle. He angled his chest, letting the claw tear into the right side of his torso. Blood burst out. Heat scorched through him like a whip of fire lashing his chest.

But at that exact moment—

His left hand—still gripping Crysthalis—drove straight into the bear’s neck.

CRASSHH!!

The silver blade pierced thick flesh.

The creature howled louder than ever—a sound of rage and pain that shook the night.

Riven’s body slammed into the ground. He hit hard, rolled several times, and every inch of his right side felt shattered. His breath caught. His vision darkened. But he saw—

The bear staggered back two steps, blood gushing from the wound in its neck.

Its claw rose one last time, as if to strike again... but it never came down.

The massive body collapsed to the earth with a thundering crash, kicking up a cloud of dust.

THUD!!

And then—silence.

Riven lay on the ground, chest torn, breath ragged. Blood poured from his wounds, from the edge of his lips, from the hand still gripping his sword’s hilt.

But amidst the searing pain, he knew one thing—

The bear was down.

And he was still alive.

But it seemed the world wouldn’t let him rest.

The night sky was once again filled with the sound of wingbeats and a deep rumble approaching from afar. Riven, still lying on the ground, heard wild footsteps pounding the earth. The vibrations reached his bones. He forced his head to turn—and that’s when he saw it.

A horde.

Wild beasts emerged from the trees and thickets—first one, then dozens, then hundreds.

They came in all shapes and sizes: deer with broken antlers, wolves with glowing red eyes, forest horses with wild stares, and unfamiliar creatures—half-burned, half-scaled. Their breaths were heavy, eyes frantic.

Some of them looked panicked and ran past, ignoring Riven as if he were nothing more than a shadow caught in something greater.

But not all of them.

Some—those with long fangs, stealthy steps, and hungry eyes—stopped.

They looked at him.

Riven.

The human half-collapsed, his chest torn open, hand trembling around his sword.

He saw their dripping fangs.

He felt their hungry gazes pierce his skin, as if they knew... he wouldn’t be able to rise again.

With breath caught and blood pouring from his wounds, Riven clenched the hilt of Crysthalis. Pain scorched through his chest like embers, but he refused to close his eyes. His gaze stayed open—ready for whatever came.

Then, one of the wolves growled.

And lunged.

But before the wolf could reach him—

BRAGHHHH!!!

The air around them trembled violently, as if pierced by an unseen force. In an instant, the night sky was painted with blood and shredded flesh—hot, sharp, and absolute.

The entire horde that had poised to attack Riven—wolves, beasts, and shadowed monsters—exploded all at once.

No warning.

No spell.

Their bodies tore apart, scattered into red mist and chunks of flesh that rained around Riven like a storm of meat. The blast echoed through the air, rattling the bones, then slowly faded... leaving only silence.

Riven could only stare.

His body trembled, one knee to the ground, blood still seeping from his chest. Crysthalis dangled weakly in his left hand, nearly slipping. But his eyes—

Wide.

Staring blankly ahead, at where the final wolf had nearly pounced—now reduced to a pool of blood and a dismembered claw flung far away.

"...What," he whispered.

His breath came fast—not just from exhaustion, but from shock. Confusion. Incomprehension.

He looked up at the sky, then around him.

Silence.

As if the world itself had stopped to witness the power that had just descended. No voices. No footsteps approaching. Only the scent of fresh blood choking the night air, and the bitter weight pressing down on Riven’s chest.

Something... or someone, had saved him.

But who?

And why?