The Devil's Son and His Fated Bride
Chapter 94: Dragon fire

Chapter 94: Dragon fire

Snapping back to his senses, Rail saw the Lord shit casually striding toward the shattered carriage, as if the battlefield were his stage. Then, he caught it. That scent. That familiar innocent scent of hers.

With a growl rumbling from deep within, Rail swung his sword and leaped, landing hard between the vampire and the carriage.

"She’s mine to protect," he said, voice low and venom-laced.

Behind him, the carriage’s hanging door gave way with a sharp crack. Gloria stumbled out, cradling Dave tightly against her chest, fearing the surge of vampires to them. Her eyes were wide with terror, her face smeared with blood from a cut on her forehead.

Org arrived just in time, placing his broad body between them and the threat. His fur bristled, and his eyes glowed like dying embers.

"Well, well," the vampire drawled, amused. "How brave. I thought wolves hate humans."

He raised his blood-slicked sword. His pale blue eyes gleamed with an unnatural light, crackling with hunger, madness, and a sick thrill. The sweet scent of Gloria’s blood, fresh and warm, made his lips twitch. He was salivating, consumed by the ecstasy of the hunt.

He smirked and then lunged.

Rail met him head-on, steel clashing with steel in a fury of sparks. The vampire laughed, genuinely delighted, as he parried and spun, his movements sinuous and graceful. This wasn’t just a fight to him. It was a game.

But Rail was done playing.

With a guttural roar, he feinted, then struck hard. His blade hit the vampire square in the chest, launching him back. The creature smashed into a jagged boulder, and the stone cracked with a thunderous groan, splitting into three massive chunks. The vampire’s sword flew from his grasp, spinning into the mud with a dull thud.

For a heartbeat, he lay still.

Then, slowly, his lips curled into a smirk.

His red hair hung messily over his eyes, blood dripping down his cheek. He lifted his head, and as the strands shifted, something caught Rail’s eye, his ears.

Pointed ears!?

His pupils pulsed. And his canines... grew longer.

’A Fae?’ Rail told himself, stunned.

No. Not just a Fae.

A Fae Vampire.

The revelation stunned Rail for a heartbeat too long, and it was all the vampire needed.

With a sneer, the Fae Vampire surged forward and landed a crushing punch to Rail’s jaw, sending him flying into another jagged rock. Stone bit into flesh and a sharp pulsing pain lit up his nerves like lava, but he gritted his teeth and sprang back to his feet. But it was too slow compared to the monster.

The vampire had already retrieved his sword. With an insane speed, he darted in and slammed the hilt into Rail’s face, right across the bridge of his nose. Agony exploded behind Rail’s eyes. His head spun. His feet gave out beneath him.

"Hmm," the vampire mused, stepping over him with a cruel smile. "Done playing. His Highness wants you alive, so... time to sleep."

He raised his blade’s hilt, poised to strike... But fangs found flesh.

Coran lunged in from the flank, his powerful jaws clamping down on the vampire’s arm. With a savage twist, he hurled the creature aside and planted himself between Rail and more threats coming closer.

"Get up, idiot!" Coran snapped, blood streaking his snout, eyes blazing. Then he turned to the chaos behind him. "Org, get them out, NOW!"

Org didn’t hesitate. Vampires were closing in like vultures, their eyes locked on Gloria. The maiden was trembling, her knees buckling with every step, Dave still clutched in her arms. She stumbled and nearly fell.

Orgeve shifted mid-stride, his form rippling from fur to flesh, and caught her in his arms. "Hold tight," he whispered.

And with one powerful leap, he vanished from that area, carrying both her and the child away from the blood-soaked madness.

Rail groaned, dragging himself upright, his head still spinning. The strike was so heavy. He could taste copper on his tongue but shame burned hotter than pain.

If his godfather ever heard about this, about how he hesitated, how he failed, he’d never hear the end of it. Luther had entirely distracted him and Kamin’s death shattered him. This battle broke him.

"Kill him," Coran commanded, his voice cold steel.

Rail surged forward once more, fury sharpening every strike. Blades clashed once again steel scrubbed against steel in a storm of sparks.

Then...

A deafening roar split the sky.

The clouds above churned like boiling ink before parting, as if the heavens themselves had been cleaved open. Blinding sunlight spilled through the breach, golden and pure, cutting across the battlefield like a divine blade.

The sun’s rays struck the vampire horde, and they screamed, burning. Shrieks of agony and fury echoed as their flesh sizzled under the holy light. Smoke curled from their skins. The foul stench of burning blood and rotting magic flooded the air.

The Lord Vampire snarled, shielding his face with his hood as his form began to burn. With a final curse, he dissolved into a swirl of dark shadow and mist, fleeing toward the last open portal as it began to grow small until it vanished.

But it wasn’t over. From the sky descended salvation, and vengeance.

A golden dragon, vast and glorious, burst through the clouds. Its wings unfurled wide, casting light brighter than dawn. Each scale shimmered like stardust, reflecting the sun’s full might.

"Retreat!" Coran bellowed to his soldiers. They didn’t hesitate. They knew what was coming.

Sunkiath.

The Sun-Bringer, the legendary dragon of Alvonia and it wasn’t alone.

Upon its back rode the Dragon Rider King, armored in black and regal, his blade drawn once more to defend this realm and his daughter.

When the portals snapped shut behind the fleeing invaders. Goblins screeched, vampires scattered, and the remaining wounded giant turned to flee with them, but the forest denied them escape. The Cursed Garden came alive.

Its ancient roots and twisted thorny branches lashed out like godly whips, dragging the enemies back, slamming them to the ground, binding them to their fate. Sunkiath’s throat bulged and then fire erupted from his jaws.

A torrent of flame cascaded across the battlefield, devouring everything in its path. The plain before the bridge was bathed in gold and death. Screams were swallowed by the inferno.

Vampires who tried to flee disintegrated beneath the last rays of sunlight. Dawn was coming. Thegara owed this survival to the King of Alvonia. Had it not been for the human king, their casualties would have been catastrophic.

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