My stepsisters are sexy demons, and I must protect them
Chapter 63: The Eye of the Fallen One

Chapter 63: The Eye of the Fallen One

Hakuto, Chantal, and Rika remain outside the house, ready in case more threats show up.

Rika is exhausted, while Hakuto and Chantal still have some strength left.

Meanwhile, inside, Yuzu and Kagura are doing their best—with what little energy they have left—to try healing Shin, who shows no reaction, except for a slow, faint breath.

With the undead army no longer blocking the view, Velune, Zhurvak, and the cloaked brute are now fully visible to them.

«She must be the necromancer. And that one... a yoghral,» murmurs Chantal, narrowing her eyes at the blue, mummy-like creature with glowing yellow eyes.

«Yoghral...?» Hakuto repeats.

Chantal snorts.

«And they have the nerve to say HESPARC Academy is useless...» she grumbles. «Yoghrals are amphibious demons. They gain magic by killing their own kind and implanting their eyes onto their body. By consuming an eye, they can use the peculiar spells of their race. The more eyes they have, the stronger and longer they live. But luckily, they’re cowards. Their spells are focused on survival, so they’re not really dangerous.»

A wicked grin spreads across Chantal’s face.

«A necromancer and a yoghral—neither is a threat. And if that steroid monk wannabe is on their level... then I’ll kill them all on the spot!»

Her pink flame sword ignites once more in her hand.

«Get ready to be torn to pieces!»

She dashes toward them.

Hakuto and Rika stay behind to protect the house but remain ready to assist.

Velune and Zhurvak hold their ground. Drakhul charges.

In an instant, he closes the distance.

Chantal finds him right in front of her before she even sees him move.

«What the—?!»

A fuchsia glow flashes under Drakhul’s hood. The same light wraps around his hand.

That’s the last thing Chantal sees before his punch hits her square in the face.

She crashes to the ground, flat on her back, landing in a pool of blood spilling from what’s left of her face—bruised, jaw and nose shattered, spine broken from the impact.

The pain is so intense that Chantal’s nerves shut down completely. Her body refuses to feel it—because her mind couldn’t possibly endure it.

Rika stands frozen.

So does Hakuto.

~That monster... he took down Chantal with a single hit...?! No, he didn’t just knock her out... If she didn’t have vampire blood in her veins, that would’ve killed her!~

«Did you see that, Zhurvak? Did you see how powerful my beloved Drakhul is?!»

Velune’s voice rings out, bursting with renewed excitement.

Her bodyguard’s display of strength wipes away all her frustration over losing the undead army.

«M-Miss Velune, I don’t mean to say ’I told you so’, but... I told you so...» Zhurvak mutters. «If we had let Drakhul fight from the start, we’d already have captured the hybrids and your undead army would still be intact.»

Velune scowls at him, her gaze sending chills down his spine.

«How the hell was I supposed to know they were that weak?! I wasn’t about to risk being incinerated by the Sacred Flame over a stupid miscalculation! And besides, my army managed to take down Shin Tendo—the strongest of them—and wore out the others! They cleared the path for Drakhul!» she snaps, trying to justify herself rather than admit Zhurvak was right.

Chantal lies collapsed on the ground.

She’s motionless.

Yuzu and Kagura have drained their very last reserves of strength to heal Shin just enough to keep him alive, though he remains unconscious.

Rika can barely stand.

A crushing wave of despair and helplessness washes over Hakuto.

He’s now the only one left standing against an enemy beyond imagination.

Diamond armor covers his chest and arms. He grips his massive sword tightly, aiming it at Drakhul.

«Rika, get back inside! It’s too dangerous for you!» shouts Hakuto, on guard.

«Not a chance! You’re my brother and I won’t leave you alone to face that monster!» she yells, fists clenched.

«Don’t be stupid! In this state, you’ll get yourself killed in a second!»

«Then I’ll die fighting at your side!»

Rika’s firm and determined voice makes Hakuto give up arguing.

Drakhul turns his focus toward them.

His body radiates that same intense fuchsia energy Chantal saw earlier.

It swirls around him like flames, just like the Sacred Flame—but a different color.

An eye of that same shade glow under his hood.

Then...

...he vanishes.

Disappears before Hakuto and Rika’s stunned eyes.

A moment later, he reappears right in front of Hakuto.

The air displacement alone from his lightning-fast charge knocks Hakuto off balance.

His guard breaks for a split second.

Hakuto immediately unleashes a burst of Sacred Flame, exploding in all directions.

—BOOM!

Drakhul’s punch slams into Hakuto’s chest, right over his heart.

He’s launched backward like a cannonball.

His body bounces and scrapes across the ground, then slams to a stop.

Blood gushes from his mouth.

He lies collapsed, ribs broken, chest gripped by unbearable pain.

He writhes in agony—but somehow, he’s still alive.

At the last second, he focused his diamond armor around his heart.

That’s what saved him.

Barely.

~One punch shattered my armor... Not even my father, in his prime and with both arms, could do that. And still... why didn’t the Sacred Flame even scratch him? That brute obeys that necromancer’s orders—he must be undead! None of this makes any sense... damn it!~

«Excellent, Drakhul!»

Velune’s voice echoes across the steppe.

«Now kill that brat too—and everyone hiding inside the house! But make sure you don’t damage it too much!»

«Why that request...?» Zhurvak asks, confused.

«Are you an idiot?! See any other houses around?!»

Zhurvak shakes his head.

«Exactly! Neither do I! So where am I supposed to watch TV if this one gets destroyed?!»

«S-Sorry, Miss Velune, I didn’t think of that...»

«Of course you didn’t. That’s why I’m the brain of the group!»

Now, Rika is in Drakhul’s sights.

The mist of red and purple particles around her thickens.

Tiny points of energy form at the tips of her index fingers.

As soon as Drakhul vanishes again—rushing at her with such speed he’s nearly invisible—she slashes two violet arcs forward.

They don’t hit a clear target—she’s firing blind.

And for a moment, she sees him.

Just a fraction of a second.

The arcs collide with him and disintegrate instantly.

They don’t do damage, but they tear through his brown cloak.

It slows him down—just enough to be seen.

Just enough for someone to act.

Drakhul is forced to stop mid-charge.

A pink energy blast passes right by his face—grazing the tip of his nose.

Chantal, still in pain and with a battered face slowly regenerating.

With his brown cloak torn away, Drakhul’s terrifying undead form is fully revealed.

His body is massive, and—considering how long he’s been dead—surprisingly well-preserved.

He was buried long ago, sealed with the most powerful preservation spells.

His thick muscles and skin show the wear of five thousand years.

Rotten, wrinkled flesh has peeled off in several places, exposing bone and sinew.

His long hair is dry and gray.

But it’s his eyes that shock everyone.

The left one, with a red iris, clearly marks him as a vampire.

But the right... even Chantal has never heard of anything like it at the Academy.

The iris glows fuchsia, and the white pupil is elongated both vertically and horizontally—forming a cross.

«What... what kind of creature is that...?» Chantal whispers, horrified.

«He’s definitely a vampire—I can smell the faint trace in his rotting stench. But that energy... that eye... That’s not a vampire.

What the hell are we fighting?!»

♡♡♡

«The Eye of the Fallen One...?!» Itsu asks, voice uncertain. «And what’s that supposed to be?»

Akashi shakes his head with a sigh.

«Apparently, your knowledge of ancient history has a few gaps...» he replies with light sarcasm, echoing his brother’s earlier tone.

«Five thousand years ago, a violent war shattered the balance of N’Raeth, to the point of redrawing even the maps.

It was fought between the newborn vampire kingdom—Mildelar, united under Drakhul Volkom—and the dark emissaries who ruled the land at the time, led by Lucypher—the Fallen One. He was once the right hand of the God of Light and the strongest of his kind. The final act of that decades-long war was the duel between Lucypher and Drakhul, which ended with Drakhul’s victory. As a sign of surrender—but also of admiration for the one who defeated him—Lucypher gifted Drakhul his right eye. With that gesture, he gave Drakhul half of his powers and knowledge, making him the mortal being closest to a god. I hope you now understand what kind of threat looms over your precious friends, little brother. I’ll ask you one last time—tell me where they are!»

♡♡♡

Drakhul shifts his gaze away from Rika—back to Chantal.

She’s standing again, regenerated just enough to keep fighting.

He bends slightly at the knees, ready to charge.

But stops.

Something has caught his attention.

Something falling from the sky, not far from where they stand.

Rose petals.

Blood-red.