The Damned Demon

Chapter 756  The Hidden Blade

Beneath the faint bloody moonlight, Silvan stood at the Southern Gates, his tall frame rigid and poised like a man carved from stone. A legion of Crimson Army remained in perfect formation behind him, their armor glinting in the flickering torchlight, unaware of the shadows pooling in Silvan's expression. His dark red gaze shifted toward a handful of lords gathered near the barracks. They weren't speaking, yet their eyes held the weight of a secret unspoken.

Silvan gave the faintest nod. The lords exchanged a similar, silent gesture before slipping away, their movements swift and measured, shadows swallowing them as they vanished into the darkness. Silvan, his face unreadable, turned on his heel, his dark cape whispering against the stones as he left his post. The murmurs of his soldiers faded behind him, blending into the dead quiet of the night.

At a heavily guarded building shrouded in mist and overgrowth, dark energy thrummed faintly in the air, as though the very earth here carried an unnatural pulse.

Silvan moved with purpose, his black cloak trailing behind him like a flowing shadow. His steps were soundless, but the weight of his presence stirred attention among the guards stationed nearby.

As he neared the main entrance, a guard stepped forward, bowing deeply, "Is there anything you might need, Your Highness?"

Silvan offered a faint, almost cordial smile, "Yes. Please unlock the door. I have to check if our defensive arrays within the kingdom are functioning well."

The guard hesitated, his brows pinching together, "Forgive us, Your Highness, but we have strict orders from Her Majesty. No one is to enter this building without her presence or permission."

Silvan stilled, his gaze cool but unthreatening as he nodded slowly, "Oh, of course. I understand completely." His voice was genuine, measured, "But I couldn't reach the queen. She appears to be in an important meeting. You're welcome to try contacting her if you like, or… you could accompany me. I only need five minutes to check if everything is in order."

The guard's face grew taut with conflict. Disturbing the queen during a critical meeting was not a risk he wanted to take. If the prince couldn't reach her, it must be that important.

And if he wanted to check the arrays, it had to be something very important for him to come all the way here personally, probably related to protecting their very kingdom.

But to let him in without letting the queen know...the guard felt quite troubled. Then it struck him.

Prince Silvan Drake was not just anyone—more than being an honorable prince, he commanded the respect of the Crimson Army, and his loyalty to the crown was unshakable. It should be fine to let him in under supervision.

"It's alright, Your Highness," the guard finally said, his voice laced with trust and confidence, "I can show you in if it's only for five minutes. We wouldn't want to disturb the queen if she's engaged in important matters."

"Thank you," Silvan replied softly, the faintest smile tugging at his lips while the guard gestured at his fellow guards.

At the guard's signal, the others moved wordlessly, thick iron bolts clanking as they unsealed the doors. A low, groaning creak echoed through the air as the heavy wooden doors swung open, revealing the dimly lit interior. Silvan stepped inside, the guard trailing close behind, both of them alone as the door closed behind.

The hall they entered was vast and silent, its heart beating with raw power. The walls were inscribed with intricate, glowing arrays that pulsed in a rhythmic crimson light, bathing the room in a surreal, blood-like glow. The very air vibrated with dormant energy, as if the building itself was alive, watching them with unseen eyes.

"Everything seems to be fin—" The guard's words were cut off by the sharp gasp that never fully escaped his throat.

Silvan moved faster than a shadow. His blade whispered through the air, piercing the guard's neck in a clean, horizontal arc. A muffled gurgle escaped as Silvan's free hand clamped tightly over the man's mouth, silencing him. The guard's eyes, wide with confusion and betrayal, locked with Silvan's.

"I am sorry," Silvan murmured softly, his voice laced with quiet sorrow. He watched as the light in the man's eyes dimmed, then faded entirely. Gently, he lowered the lifeless body to the floor, placing it in a careful repose—as if to honor the man's final moments.

Silence descended once more, but now it felt colder.

Straightening, Silvan turned his attention to the heart of the room: the Mother Array. A sprawling, intricate network of symbols etched into the stone, it thrummed with power, its crimson glow pulsing like a heartbeat. Silvan approached it, the hum of magic vibrating through his fingertips as he placed his hand upon its core.

The array flickered.

Silvan's expression was steady, his brow furrowing only slightly as he worked, his hands moving deftly to alter the runes. The glow of the array dimmed briefly, then returned—except now it pulsed with a darker, more sinister hue. A twisted red light, like dried blood, spread from the Mother Array, lines of dark red mana crawling across the stone floor like veins. The energy bled into the earth, vanishing into unseen depths.

A moment later, the ground trembled faintly.

Across the kingdom, the darkness was shattered by dark red pillars erupting into the sky—one after another. Like scars being burned onto the land, they illuminated the horizon with their ominous glow.

In towns, villages, and outposts, identical pillars of dark red light erupted from the earth, streaking up into the skies like unnatural obelisks. Their sudden appearance left citizens frozen in their tracks, heads tilted back in awe and confusion.

The people murmured as they stared at the pillar of red light that had erupted before them, shimmering like an otherworldly beacon. Mothers pulled their children close, merchants froze mid-transaction, and soldiers whispered nervously.

"What is that?" one man called out, his voice tinged with unease.

"It just appeared out of nowhere!" another exclaimed. Nôv(el)B\\jnn

In one crowded town square, the crowd watched in stunned silence as the crimson light hummed ominously. A small child tugged on his mother's sleeve with wide eyes, "Mother… what is that?"

Before she could answer, the light pulsed violently—and twisted.

*SCREECHK!*

A portal split open at the base of the pillar, swirling like a vortex of shadows and fire. And then they came.

*RAWWWWRR!!*

A horde of armored draconians erupted from the portal, their bloodthirsty roars shattering the stillness of the square and their dark, twisted wings causing the air to bellow in fear.

The first draconian, clad in jagged black armor, lunged forward with a snarl. The mother who was with her son froze, her eyes wide with terror as the draconian soldier's blade tore through her chest and split her apart into two with sickening ease, throwing away her mutilated remains in different directions.

Her warm blood splattered in every direction, falling upon the terrified faces of those who witnessed this up close, including her son, who had every fiber of his being frozen in horror and shock as he looked at his mother's bloody remains with reddened eyes. But before he could even process what just happened, his fragile and small body exploded into a blood of mist as a stray attack of a draconian guard swept over his body.

"AAAHHHH!!!"

Horrifying screams tore through the air as people tried to run, but the draconians blades tore into their bodies, a sickening crunch echoing as blood splattered onto the ground.

Screams erupted like wildfire as the townspeople scattered, their faces pale with terror. More draconians surged from the portal, swords slashing and ripping through flesh with unrelenting savagery.

"Run!" someone shrieked. "The draconians are here! They're inside the kingdom!"

Chaos engulfed the streets. The elderly and the women clutched their children, the men scrambled to raise arms, and bodies fell like broken dolls as the draconian horde tore through the town.

The nightmare spread like wildfire, and the entire kingdom fell into chaos within a matter of seconds.

From the highest towers to the smallest villages, identical portals pulsed with an unholy red light. Draconian soldiers poured out in numbers that seemed endless, their roars echoing like the cries of hell itself. Homes burned as terrified citizens fled for their lives, streets choked with smoke and blood. Soldiers of the kingdom scrambled to form defenses, but the attack was too sudden, too coordinated.

It was a storm of ruin.

None of them ever expected to get attacked from within…the very places they considered most safe.

From the depths of one of the portals, a figure emerged, his presence eclipsing even the most fearsome draconians that spilled forth behind him, especially the nineteen Dragonblood Knights.

The very air seemed to shudder as he stepped onto the bloodstained earth, the unnatural glow of the portal framing him like a silhouette of doom.

He stood tall—commanding—a force of raw power and dominance that seemed almost too great for the horrified citizens of this kingdom upon recognizing who he was—the king of the draconians, Drakar!

His armor, a masterpiece of terror, was forged from a dark, blood-red alloy, its surface jagged and lined with cruel spikes that seemed eager to pierce flesh. Every plate reflected the faint dark red glow of the portals, making him appear as though he were bathed in the light of carnage itself.

His face was carved from stone, sharp aristocratic features accentuating his menacing presence. A pronounced jawline formed the base of his visage, and his lips curved into a cruel, malevolent smile—a smile that promised only pain and ruin.

Atop his head, a mane of pitch-black hair cascaded to the nape of his neck, thick and wild like the beast that lay within him. A dark beard traced the strong lines of his jaw, meticulously trimmed but untamed enough to radiate authority, a warrior king in his prime.

And then there were his wings. Leathery, vast, and dark as a moonless night, they unfurled slowly behind him, blotting out the glow of the portals. "HAHAHAH!!" A monstrous roar of laughter erupted from his chest, deep and resonant, echoing across the shattered streets and broken buildings like the tolling of a death knell.

"Go!" he bellowed, his voice booming with unrelenting authority as he spread his arms wide, the wicked smile on his face stretching further, "Slaughter these Bloodburn dogs! Let me see their precious lands flow with their blood. Our ancestors have been waiting for this moment for thousands of years, and I get to fulfill it!"

The Dragonblood Knights and the soldiers behind them grunted in response, their bloodthirsty cries vibrating the very ground as they surged forward, weapons raised high. Screams echoed in the distance, growing louder as the tide of death swept through the streets.

But as the last echo of his laughter lingered, Drakar's expression shifted, the cruel mirth vanishing from his face. A dark, chilling light glinted in his fiery eyes as his smile narrowed to something far more calculating—far more dangerous.

Beside him, Commander Zulgi, his stoic second-in-command clad in dark-scaled armor, stood rigid, awaiting orders.

Without shifting his gaze from the horizon, Drakar's voice dropped into a low, sinister growl. "You…" he said, pointing a finger toward Zulgi, "go and find where that alien dog and his queen are hiding. I can't wait…" he murmured, his tone dripping with vicious anticipation and a cruel smile on his lips, "…to make them my slaves and see them begging for mercy under my feet."