The Devil's Son and His Fated Bride
Chapter 225: A new beast on the battlefield.

Chapter 225: A new beast on the battlefield.

Just moments ago, he’d been deep in conversation with one of his commanders, but now his eyes were locked on them. Watching and measuring her conduct.

"Are you going to the king’s tent?" Rail asked.

Gloria didn’t answer right away. She was still aware of Karon’s gaze, of the way even the smallest moment could be twisted into court gossip or worse, used as leverage.

Rail’s eyes dimmed slightly. Was this cold distance all he got after so long? But he masked the flicker of hurt. He wasn’t here to argue. He understood the weight she now carried.

"Yes," she said finally, her voice even. "Is the wizard with him?"

Rail nodded. "Hmm. Come."

He tried to sound casual, but the air between them still trembled with things left unsaid.

Tonight, Ice Land was uncharacteristically still. The skies were clear, with no bone-cracking winds, and no iron-gray clouds. Just the full moon, casting silver light on the snow, and delicate veils of auroras shimmering like painted fire across the heavens. Looking beautifully Silent. Too silent. It felt like the breathless hush before a great storm.

"What is happening to your hair?" Rail asked, his eyes on the path.

"I don’t know, since the blood bond, my hair has been changing color. Does it look bad?"

"Nope, it looks good on you. You look like the moon."

Gloria smiled, happy with the praise.

They approached the king’s tent and stepped inside, bowing their heads in unison. The warmth within couldn’t erase the tension that followed them.

"Your Majesty, I’m here," Gloria announced, her voice calm but alert.

The king nodded without looking up. "Good. You arrived on time. Come, Sigaros has important news."

Gloria stepped forward, coming to stand beside him. A large map was spread across the war table, weighed down at the corners by polished stones. Colored markings and notes cluttered the parchment, tracing alliances, threats, and the slow spread of war.

"Any news of Phoria?" she asked, her voice tightening slightly.

"Yes," the wizard replied, his grin wicked and unrepentant. "She’s made a move, one that caused a serious rift between her and the other high sorcerers. Frankly, I saw it coming."

His tone was smug as if betrayal was a game he’d already won in his mind.

Gloria stiffened. She didn’t like where this was going. Every time Nimoieth was involved, the air grew colder in her lungs. She braced herself, hoping for something new, something clean that didn’t bring that brutal soul back to the world.

But the first words out of Sigaros’s mouth made her heart sink.

"She attempted to offer her own body to Nimoieth, to become her host," Sigaros reported darkly. "My informant said, other high sorcerers interrupted the ceremony midway. They all crave that power, but none of them are willing to risk their own skin."

The king’s brow furrowed in thought, his fingers pressing into the table’s edge. So it had begun, sorcerers turning on each other for the promise of godlike might. It was only a matter of time before one of them succeeded.

"We need a real solution to this," he muttered. "Wait until Kaisun arrives. As long as Nimoieth’s realm remains obscured, danger will always hover above us. That soul is hiding somewhere close."

His gaze slid toward Gloria.

She hadn’t said a word, but her eyes had dimmed, and her breath trembled ever so slightly. The memory of what had nearly happened still haunted her, the chase, the trap, the blade too close to her throat. Zaira’s wrath and her will to kill them, it was still in her mind, fresh.

"Don’t worry, Princess Gloria," the king said gently, his voice firm yet fatherly. "I won’t let them come near my daughter again."

She nodded out of respect, but deep down, the promise rang hollow. They had vowed to protect them once before, and yet Luther had nearly caught them. Zaira had been just one heartbeat away from ending everything.

Some threats didn’t just live in the dark.

"If the high sorcerers can’t even trust one another, how are they still maintaining any cooperation with the vampire lords?" Gloria asked, her eyes narrowed as she pieced together the unstable alliance. If they were so desperate that they’d sacrifice their own bodies for power, then surely there must be cracks forming in their partnership. Perhaps the lords had scattered.

"Good point," Rail said, his tone sharpening. "From what we’ve observed during the recent attacks, only that giant vampire lord and one younger male were commanding the armies. But where are Acelieth and Victor Keleemont? Why haven’t they surfaced?"

He leaned closer to the map, tracing the blood-red markings. "Three vampire lords are confirmed dead. Three more have been identified. But six remain unaccounted for. Either they’re from distant, alien islands or they’ve risen from the ranks of commoners. Sigaros noted that two of them are women. Who? We don’t know."

The king turned toward the young wizard, his stare intense. "Are you sure you’ve never seen their faces?"

Sigaros shook his head. "They always wore masks. Their presence was... eerie, but their identities were always hidden. I believe they are the strongest."

A tense silence passed.

"Then perhaps it’s time we draw them out," Gloria offered quietly, though her voice carried conviction. "What if we summoned them all, and called for a meeting? I’m curious to know what else they want now that Luther is gone. He wanted Nimoieth, but what do they want?"

...

Present~

Human camps...

As soon as the portal sealed behind them, Ren lifted her eyes to the sky and squinted. "It’s sunny!" she said with surprise.

"Yes... strange." Kai followed her gaze, but his attention soon shifted to her lips. "Ah, wife, you look too cute when you’re startled."

Ren blushed and immediately composed herself. He was shameless, bold enough to kiss her in front of others just to make her flustered.

Kai dismounted from Viva’s back, handing the reins to Orgeve before embracing Ren in one fluid motion.

"I’m a rider, I can get down on my own," she murmured.

"I know," he said, grinning as he patted her head, "but I wanted to because you’re my little pregnant wife."

He turned toward Orgeve and Arkilla. "Keep Ogain and Viva safe."

"Yes, Your Highness," they responded in unison, bowing slightly before leading the two sleek black beasts to a designated open space where Sunkiath was.

Ogain drew every eye.

Majestic and massive, the griffin moved with slow, deliberate grace, enjoying it, each step a quiet assertion of his power. His blue eyes scanned the camp with unsettling intelligence. The human soldiers around them stood frozen at first, their hands instinctively resting on their weapons, unsure whether to defend or marvel. Admiration and hope shimmered in their gazes, but it was laced with fear, a primal wariness that was normal and sane. They had never seen a creature like this.

This content is taken from fr(e)ewebn(o)vel.𝓬𝓸𝓶