The first phase of Xylara's plan was complete. Melvin, the once-proud King of the Beastkin, now knelt before her—a mindless puppet, stripped of will and reason. Mia, standing beside her, trembled as she looked at her husband's empty blue eyes.
The weight of her decisions, her losses, and the horror she had just witnessed pressed down on her like an unbearable curse.
Xylara's violet eyes gleamed with malice as she ran her fingers through Melvin's snowy fur. "Good boy," she whispered, the satisfaction in her tone undeniable. Then, she turned to Mia, her voice sharp with command. "Now, let's move on to the next phase. We have a Vampire Lord to visit."
Mia clenched her fists but remained silent. Resistance was futile. She had seen what Xylara was capable of—her illusions weren't mere tricks but twisted realities that bent to her will. And now, with Melvin under her control, any defiance could mean his death—or worse.
Their journey to the undead kingdom was swift. The presence of a rampaging beastkin king would have drawn attention anywhere else, but in these lands of the undead, chaos and bloodshed were almost routine. Yet, when they arrived at the royal capital, there was still a sense of eerie stillness before the inevitable storm.
Xylara's lips curled into a wicked smile. "Melvin," she called sweetly, running a finger along his jawline. "Destroy the city."
Without hesitation, the massive wolf lunged forward, his once noble instincts twisted into mindless violence. Claws tore through stone, icy fangs clamped down on flesh.
Buildings collapsed under his sheer force, and the streets were soon painted crimson with the blood of those unfortunate enough to be caught in his path.
Screams erupted as the city's inhabitants realized that one of the strongest warrior of the Beastkin had become an unstoppable force of destruction. Undead creatures fought back, but Melvin's rampage was relentless. Ice spears rained upon them, shattering their bones, freezing them in grotesque displays of suffering.
In the midst of the chaos, Xylara and Mia slipped into the royal palace.
Mia's heart pounded in her chest, her mind racing. She had to find a way out of this madness, to free her husband from this nightmare. But Xylara was always two steps ahead, her eyes sharp, her plans meticulous.
The palace corridors were dark, lined with ancient candelabras that barely illuminated the path forward. The scent of aged parchment, decayed wood, and something metallic—blood—filled the air. But there was no sign of Tharros Infernox, the Vampire Lord.
Instead, standing at the center of the grand throne room, waiting for them, was a woman.
She was a vision of beauty and danger intertwined—ruby eyes that gleamed with untamed power, red velvet hair cascading over her shoulders, and a figure both slim and curvaceous.
But what truly caught Xylara's attention was the aura around her. Mana-infused blood swirled at her command, forming elegant but deadly shapes that hovered in the air like crimson serpents waiting to strike.
Xylara halted, a smirk playing on her lips. "Well, well," she purred, tilting her head. "You're not Tharros Infernox."
The woman's ruby gaze locked onto Xylara, unreadable yet filled with a quiet intensity. "You're correct," she said, her voice smooth but laced with an underlying threat. "My name is Lilith Infernox, First Princess of the Undead, heir to my father's throne."
Mia stiffened beside Xylara, gripping her trembling hands. She had heard of Lilith—the Blood Enchantress, a prodigy feared even among the vampire elite. And now, she was standing before them, her power radiating in waves that sent shivers down Mia's spine.
Xylara, however, was unbothered. Instead, she chuckled, stepping forward. "Oh? So the little princess is here to protect her father's throne? How adorable."
Lilith didn't react to the taunt. Instead, she extended her hand, the blood swirling around her condensing into needle-thin projectiles, aimed directly at Xylara.
"I don't care who you are or what your reasons may be," she stated coldly. "But you dare bring destruction to my city? You dare stand in my father's domain with ill intent?"
Xylara's violet eyes flashed with amusement. "I dare do a lot of things, little princess."
And with that, the battle began.
Lilith's blood needles shot forward with incredible speed, each infused with deadly precision. But Xylara was no ordinary foe.
With a flick of her wrist, an illusion formed—a perfect replica of herself standing in place while the real Xylara vanished into the shadows. The needles passed through the illusion harmlessly, embedding themselves into the stone behind.
Lilith's expression remained unreadable, but she wasted no time. The blood at her feet surged like a living entity, forming tendrils that lashed out, attempting to ensnare Xylara. But illusions weren't her only weapon—Xylara's mastery had reached new heights. As the tendrils closed in, the illusion dissipated, revealing a new, terrifying sight.
Xylara had become a shadowy figure, her entire form shifting like a mirage. She stepped through the blood like it was nothing, appearing behind Lilith with a whisper. "You'll have to do better than that, princess."
Lilith's instincts screamed danger. She twisted around, but Xylara was faster. With a snap of her fingers, reality bent—illusionary chains erupted from the ground, wrapping around Lilith's limbs, tightening with unnatural strength.
For the first time, Lilith's ruby eyes flickered with surprise.
Xylara leaned in close, her lips near Lilith's ear. "You see, I don't just create illusions anymore. I make them real."
Lilith's struggle intensified, but the chains refused to budge. Mia stood frozen, watching helplessly as Xylara's cruel grin widened.
Xylara stepped back, her eyes gleaming. "Now, let's see how much fun we can have with you."
Outside, Melvin's rampage continued, the once-great King of Beastkin nothing more than a tool of destruction. The undead capital trembled under the assault, and inside the throne room, a battle of wills had only just begun.
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