The Hidden King's Stolen Wife
Chapter 152: Carnage

Chapter 152: Carnage

Everyone present stiffened in shock, and while the soldiers and Nessa’s faces were filled with nothing but confusion, Soleia’s eyes glistened with relief. She was near crying out in sheer joy when she noticed the familiar, macabre tendril that danced in the air as though it was a snake dancing to the snakecharmer’s tune.

Her lips parted as she took in a deep breath.

"What is that―"

Before the question could completely leave the soldier’s lips, the tendrils of blood shot forward. They were aimed straight for the soldiers, swiftly piercing the necks of several of the men in front, while swiping at the feet of some of the others, causing them to topple like dominos.

Nessa jumped back in fright, plastering her back as closely to the wall as possible so that she was out of the way, but she needn’t worry at all. The blood trails were not at all targeted towards her and she was treated as though she was nothing more than thin air.

Seeing their brothers in arms fall like matchsticks, the soldiers unsheathed their weapons and sliced at the blood tendrils, only for them to separate and reform its shape as though nothing had happened. No weapon was useful against them, and no man was an equal.

Further into the dungeons, locked behind the iron bars, the men who fought under Orion’s command slowly veered their heads to look. Most of them were too weak to even move, but those who could, peeped out of their cells only to come face to face with a familiar sight they had seen hundreds of times before.

Only, instead of beasts and foreign invaders falling to the cursed blood, it was the King’s cavalry.

"It’s the lieutenant general!" one of the men gasped weakly, his eyes suddenly filled with life and hope. "He came back for us!"

Among the sound of clanking metal and fallen bodies, a man strolled down the stairs. The sound of his footsteps echoed down the stairwell, and he could be heard before he was even seen.

Soleia slowly turned, her heart thudding along the beat of each of his footsteps. When the man’s figure slowly emerged from the shadows and into the light of the torches, she let out a shaky breath.

"Ralph..." she said, her lips trembling.

Sir Ralph was alive and well, standing proudly tall. His back was straight, his hands were leisurely tucked in his pockets, and the carnelian pendant that rested on his chest was pulsing with each movement of the blood tendrils.

Most of the men had already fallen, either knocked unconscious or straight-up slaughtered. By the time Ralph appeared, there were only a handful of them left standing. His cold gaze swept across the room, landing on the leader of the King’s men, Sir Penrose.

He had a bloodied nose and multiple scratches across his face. As one of the King’s elite guards, he held up well against Ralph’s attacks. But it wasn’t enough for him to come out entirely unscathed. The ordinary human stamina could not compare to the extensive reserve of magic in practitioners, and soon enough, his actions turned sloppy, and his injuries grew.

One misstep was all it took for the blood tendril to knock the sword out of Sir Penrose’s hands. He was the only one left, and with everyone else dead, their bodies providing more blood for Ralph to use, Sir Penrose was quickly bound together in a rope of blood. His hands were tied to his sides, and his feet were bound together, lifting him up into the air.

A particularly sharp tendril came forward, its pointed tip edging closer and closer towards Sir Penrose’s face. The man struggled but to no avail. With every movement, the rope of blood merely got tighter and tighter, until eventually, it was difficult for him to even breathe.

"Wait!" Soleia said, coming forward to hold Ralph’s hand before he could walk too close to Sir Penrose. "Please, spare him."

Ralph said nothing and merely looked at Soleia with one eyebrow raised. His expression was so much sterner than she was used to, and Soleia swallowed her saliva, wetting her lips.

"He’s been taking care of Reitan for years," Soleia said, her voice getting smaller and smaller. "For all it’s worth, he’s been doing a decent job."

"I... don’t need... a traitor’s... pity," Sir Penrose choked out. Blood slowly trickled from his nostril, coating his upper lip.

Then, before anyone else could react, his lips pursed and there came a sharp cracking noise. His body started to convulse, and foam began to build in his mouth. Soleia gasped, wanting to reach forward to help, but it was too late. Sir Penrose’s head slumped forward and his body went limp.

Dead.

Ralph slowly exhaled before withdrawing the layers of blood wrapped around him. Without the tendrils to support his body, Sir Penrose’s corpse fell to the ground with a thump, joining the others.

Instinctively, Soleia moved back, nearly falling due to her shock. Ralph’s hand wrapped around her upper arm before she could trip over any of the bodies, holding her upright.

"T-Thanks," she said, stammering. She looked down from over her shoulder and immediately regretted it, shutting her eyes as she took in a deep breath to calm herself. There were bodies everywhere, and no patch of the ground was left unstained.

"Allow me," Ralph said, his voice slightly hoarser than usual. He reached down and all too easily picked Soleia up in his arms, bridal-style, her arms looped around his neck to steady herself.

"Close your eyes," he muttered, and Soleia buried her face into his shoulder. Instantly, the familiar scent that clung to his body filled her senses, paired with the subtle coppery smell of blood that lingered in the air.

With her in his arms, he crossed the room and returned to Princess Nessa’s side, who watched with eyes wide with terror. The moment Soleia was placed back on the floor, she all but pounced on her, snatching her from Ralph’s arms as she checked her through.

Once she was sure that Soleia was unharmed, her bangles began to glow as she pushed Soleia behind her. Nessa stood in front of Soleia, every hair in her body prickling with alarm as she glared at Ralph.

She asked, her voice low, "Who are you?"

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