The Alpha's Blind Fate
Chapter 387: The Cryptic Message (II)

Chapter 387: The Cryptic Message (II)

Three Hours Ago

DAEMON

"And how will she destroy an army of them?" Daemon asked, pacing about his room while the Mage looked around as if considering how to word his next words lest his head followed.

"Well, this staff seems to be tied to her life. Should it be destroyed alongside the oak tree where the Deformed use as a nesting place, then they will be defeated for sure."

Daemon had chuckled darkly, "Is that so? And what about my mate? What happens to her should I manage to destroy both this staff and the ancient oak tree you speak of?"

The Mage glanced around uncomfortably, head cowering. "Umm.... I suppose her majesty would die for real."

Lightning fast, Daemon had his collar in a grip, slamming his body against the walls. "And what makes you think that I care more about defeating the deformed than finding my mate?"

The man’s eyes bulged as Daemon choked him ever slightly. Hurriedly, he began to explain,

"With the staff connected to her lifeline, she ordinarily possesses the power of resurrection. However, that power can only be accessed during the Waxing Crescent as you’ve just said so yourself. But once the staff is destroyed, she can no longer be able to resurrect and I fear that she might loose her life as well."

Heavens knew why Daemon hated superstitions and such. Completely devoid of logic and sureness, it was the most useless thing in life. And it was why he stuck to books and actual logic.

But ever since he met Zina, that had changed. With her power to see visions, Daemon had found himself accepting that aspect of the world. But now, he found himself utterly despising it because it was the only thing he could turn to.

The books he read had no answer to rescuing Zina, nor did his wolf chess table provide for the next move he should make. Yet, listening to the seemingly sound ramblings of the mage threatened to drive him to the ages of insanity.

"So in that case I cannot afford to destroy the staff nor this oak tree you speak of," Daemon drawled, releasing the Mage until he landed on his butt.

"Your majesty, it is all uncertain. Like I said before, I truly do not understand the true nature of this spell that has been tied to her... she might not loose her life. But if you do not destroy the staff, you might not be able to defeat the deformed."

While it was true that his wolf chess table did not hold the key to the next move he must make, it still shed some light to him and provided some insights, so Daemon found himself gravitating towards the table.

He might take a gamble for every other thing, but Zina’s life? Absolutely not.

Making his move, his thought swirled about him. There was a duty in his part to protect his people, and there was his duty to protect his mate.

"You seem ti have forgotten there’s another way to kill the Deformed," Daemon drawled, "living in obscurity has made you disconnected from common knowledge," he said.

"You mean ripping their heart off?" The mage said in disbelief, "but that is near impossible, your majesty. The deformed stand quite tall and that is what makes them impossible to fight against."

Daemon smiled shrewdly, "It won’t be impossible if I’ve an army of Lycan Shifters." He said, making a move for black.

To protect his people, Daemon must fight hard. To protect Zina, he must make sure he drawed out the war for the twelve days until the Waxing Crescent.

Destroying the staff and the oak tree was simply out of the question. During the great purge, history also made it clear that the Deformed were banished in that same way by destroying what was called the Elder Tree.

If not for Zina’s staff, they would never have realized that so called Elder Tree was in fact, an oak tree that was rumored to be a nesting place. But all of that didn’t matter because once again, a tryrant had risen and the Deformed was back.

Simply banishing them the same cowardly way they had been banished during the time of the Great Purge was not an option as far as he was concerned. Only if they fought with them head on would the world understand that they can only ever be one wolf above every other wolves—

—and that wolf could only ever be Shifters and not some monstrosity created out from greed and selfishness.

So his decision to fight the Deformed head on wasn’t just for Zina, it was also a way to set the world straight on the only one true way of the wolf that can ever exist.

But he wasn’t going to fight that war with Zina being on their side. He intended to in fact, rescue her way before that twelve day mark elapsed.

It didn’t matter what it would take him—he would surely rescue her. And that was the hidden, almsot nonexistent message that was also sewn in the word ’tweleve’.

The fact that he would rescue her way before the Waxing Crescent. They would win this victory together—side by side.

Yaren and Marcus entered his office where the Mage still cowered at a corner, and they were both bearing identical messages.

"The Declaration of War has reached the West," Yaren said. As letters had, of course, not been sent there, Daemon could only rely on Rowan’s secret allies among the packs in other regions to secretly convey the letter to him.

"Is that so? What pack sent it to him?" He asked Yaren.

"The WolfKnights." Yaren said causing a smile to tug at Daemon’s lips. He was glad that they remained a traitor to the end. At least, he would finally avenge Zina for all the wrongs they did to her back when she was a member of their Pack.

"The rumors of your marriage to Norima Talga has been tactfully spread. It has long reached the west hours ago through out spy network," Marcus announced while Daemon nodded.

Just like that, his message was complete. All that now remained was for him to make his move.

"Mobilize the armies. Our old plan stays as it is. For each army, twenty Lycan shifters must take the front."

"Understood." They said while Marcus left. Yaren remained behind though.

"Are you truly leaving?" He asked hesitantly, dark brown eyes staring at Daemon.

Daemon smiled grimly, staring at the staff that was lying on his table. "Are you disobeying my command by remaining here, Yaren."

"I wouldn’t dare," the man bowed his head, "but you infiltrating the West alone... I fear for you."

"Do you doubt my strength? Have I given you any reason to doubt my commands?"

"Of course not, Your Majesty." Yaren muttered, his head still turned to the ground.

"I’ve assigned you to the Army that will press to the West precisely because I wanted you to be at ease. But I see you are still not at ease."

"It will take two days before we can get there, your majesty. Two days is a long time. Long enough that anything could happen to you... or your wife."

Daemon stood from his table, approaching him. Clasping him on the shoulders, he spoke,

"Brother, trust me this time when I say I truly cannot bear to be apart from Zina. She’s my wife, and you’ve seen it for your self how much pain and torture the past twenty-fours have been."

Yaren looked up at him, and the endearment of being referred to as his brother and not just a subordinate set his tongue loose.

"You’ve stayed admirably put in these last few hours precisely because you wanted to make sure you tied every loose end." He started, expression set in stone,

"You’ve been scheming, plotting, planning on a rescue... but we haven’t yet found a foolproof plan. Hell, even now your plan now has just twenty percent chance of success. And the cost would be your life. At least if you would risk yourself, then allow me to fight with you."

Daemon smiled, precisely because there was no point in his life when Yaren had never not trusted him, or been by his side. At every turbulent time, at every way, he had always been there.

But this journey was one that he must take alone.

"At least tell me that you trust in my strength... tell me that you’ve faith in me." Daemon said easily.

Yaren balled his fingers into a fist, then grimly he answered. "I trust in your strength, Daemon. I also have faith in you."

"Good." Daemon said curtly, his expression blanking out at that, "now go ahead. I shall meet you and Alpha Kairos in two days."

On cue, Malik Zorch entered the room. Bending the knee, she clasped her hands in front of her. "We are ready to depart, your majesty. News coming to me is that Melwyn has been sighted. Our spies in the West have her captured."

A different kind of smile tugged on his lips. One that promised death as he left the room, Malik on his tail.

At last, he was making one more visit to the West. And it would surely be his last.

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