ALL NOVEL Chapter 17.2 – The Ultimate Result
As the intense light from the sword's descent began to fade, the world came back into focus. Lilian regained her senses. There was a faint ringing echoed in her ears, and she could taste dust on her lips, as well as smell the scent of charred earth around her.
She blinked slowly at first, and then her eyelids fluttered rapidly. Her sight sharpened to reveal the aftermath of the destruction as she paused. She rubbed her eyes, questioning whether her vision was deceiving her.
She was confronted with a scene completely out of this world.
The once proud and bustling city of Lockdarn was now divided down the middle as if struck by a divine hand. The city was... cleaved... in two.
The titanic sword of light had left a scar upon the land, a canyon where buildings once stood and streets once bustled with life. The destruction was absolute, the sheer force of the attack having torn through everything in its path.
“Oh, Luphoran, give me strength…” Disbelief coursed through her veins.
As her eyes adjusted more, she saw him. The villain, the nightmare. The Vampiric Father, Azrath, as he lay crumpled on the ground, his left shoulder gone, barely missing his head.
He would have been split in two, like the city, if he was a millisecond slow. His body was a ruin of blood and torn flesh, the arrogant, untouchable figure now reduced to a mere shadow of himself, teetering on the edge of death.
But he wasn't dead yet.
Even after such a devastating technique, that bastard somehow still breathed.
Azrath’s eyes, filled with a mix of pain and disbelief, locked onto Iskandaar’s unmoving form. “You… demon…” he hissed, the words barely a whisper, laced with venom and fear.
Lilian's breath hitched when she followed his gaze, noticing Iskandaar’s form nearby, lying still on the ground. His body was limp, unresponsive, and for a terrifying moment, Lilian feared the worst. That man was their savior. She'd like to thank him, but what was this? Was he… was he dead? Had he sacrificed everything for that one final strike?
The idea made her gulp, and her heart pounded in her chest in worry.
She wanted to rush to him and check, but before she could do that, her attention was drawn to something else. A slow, deliberate crawl.
Despite her weaknesses, the Matriarch Vargathrian had forced herself onward.
Despite the destruction and damage that marred her body, she was not yet done.
“Grandma…” Lilian whispered, her voice trembling, unable to do anything but watch as the Matriarch reached Azrath. Her massive form loomed over the fallen Vampiric Father. She stared down in silence, her eyes burning with hate.
“Azrath…” she growled, her voice a mere rasp but carrying the weight of centuries of enmity. “A millennia ago, I’d have felt sad about what I’m about to do. I just want you to know that.”
Then, without hesitation, she bit down on his neck. Her jaws closed on his flesh with a sickening crunch as the Vampiric Father’s body jerked, a gurgling sound escaping his throat as his life force drained away.
Lilian stared in awe. Perhaps if it hadn't been for the Matriarch, that vampiric bastard would still be alive today despite the fact that everyone else in the field had died.
Against his arch-rival? He could only glare up at the world with his last breath, cursing everything and everyone before his body went still.
The silence that followed was loud. The vampires, who had been fighting Ralian and Amelia all throughout this time, stopped in their tracks. Their eyes were wide, their gazes filled with horror as they witnessed their leader, their father, getting bitten the life out of him.
"Father!" Val Obsidian's roar of fury cut through the chaos, his eyes blazing with rage. Without hesitation, he charged at the Matriarch, his hands glowing with blood mana, determined to tear her apart for what she had done. “I’ll kill you!”
The Matriarch, bloodied and broken, turned her head towards him. A wave of mana was passing through her, for she had leveled up. It didn't heal her completely, not like low-level people, but she could force herself to stand, her body trembling with the effort.
Yet, even in her weakened state, she met Val’s charge head-on, her claws clashing with his in a violent explosion of power.
“You’ll pay for what you’ve done!” Val barked, his strikes fueled by the despair of a father who lost his son – and a son who had just lost everything.
But the Matriarch stood like an impenetrable wall. Though weakened, she was far from defeated, especially now that she had leveled up a few times. She fought back with the strength she had left, her eyes burning with the willpower to end this once and for all.
Ralian rushed toward his back to stop him.
“Val, stop!” Munera’s voice rang out from above. She watched the battle unfold from her position in the sky, her heart torn between the urge to fight to death and the realization that they were outmatched. She knew this was a battle they could no longer win. “We have to leave! Now!”
Val hesitated, his eyes flicking to Munera, then back to the Matriarch. “But–”
Ralian closed up further. If the Matriarch and she teamed up, Val wouldn't even be able to flee. “There’s no time! If we stay, we die!” Munera’s order was firm, leaving no room for argument. Leaving the choice up to him, she swooped down, grabbing Velora by the arm. The younger vampire was frozen in shock, unable to tear her eyes away from the scene below. “We need to find Jacob. Then we leave this cursed city!”
Grumbling in frustration, Val finally pulled back, his gaze lingering on the Matriarch with hatred. “This isn’t over, wolf,” he spat before turning away, leaping into the air to follow his sister.
Munera, Val, and Velora fled through the sky, and Ralian and Amelia rushed behind them. Amelia's flaming wings flapped to carry her while Ralian streaked through the air.
“Damn it!” Munera cursed under her breath, pushing herself to fly faster, to escape the disaster that had befallen them.
The Matriarch watched them flee and then lowered herself to the ground. She looked at the spot that Lilian had been staring at in emotion. Her complete attention was on the lifeless body of the Vampiric Father, the very source of fear that had plagued her tribe since the day she was born.
He was a source of terror, a boogeyman. A figure of dread for the Lunewolves. But now, the shadow that had cast over her life was gone. She should have felt relief, but all she experienced was a sense of numbness. The impact on her tribe was too severe; too many lives were lost.
The conflict had ended, the horror was over, but the aftermath felt almost unbearable due to the extent of the devastation.
Some might find this a big stretch, but the technique does come with a very dangerous cost too—guess how many years he lost?
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