Chapter 24: The Rising Storm

The night stretched endlessly, a deep abyss swallowing the last remnants of warmth. The air carried the metallic tang of blood, mingling with the distant echoes of battle. My body still hummed with raw energy, the lingering remnants of the transformation refusing to fade. Every fiber of my being pulsed with an unfamiliar power—primal, relentless, and unyielding.

The battlefield before me was a twisted masterpiece of destruction. Shattered ground, scorched remains, and the scent of smoldering embers painted a grim picture. The dust hadn't even settled, yet the world already seemed to whisper warnings of what had just transpired.

I exhaled slowly, steadying my breath. The storm within me had yet to settle, but I couldn't afford to lose myself. Not now.

A presence stirred behind me.

"You…" The voice trembled, disbelief laced with fear.

I turned my gaze toward the source. A knight, clad in golden armor, stood frozen in place. His blade, once a beacon of righteousness, now quivered in his grasp. His eyes flickered between the devastation and me, as if struggling to reconcile the image before him.

"You're not human…" he whispered.

A strange sensation curled in my chest. Amusement? Pity? Perhaps both.

I took a step forward, and the knight flinched. His breath came in sharp, ragged gasps, his body locked in place. He was waiting—for an answer, a reason, or maybe just an end.

"I never was," I murmured.

His eyes widened, the truth settling deep into his bones. But before he could react, before he could scream or swing his blade, I vanished from his sight.

The next moment, I was behind him.

A single motion. Swift. Effortless.

His body stiffened, his sword slipping from his fingers before he collapsed to his knees. A crimson line traced his neck—a silent mark of inevitability.

For a moment, he remained upright, as if defying reality itself. Then, his body gave in, slumping forward onto the cold earth.

Silence followed.

I exhaled, wiping the blood from my hand.

The battle had only just begun.

---

A Reckoning Approaches

The kingdom would not ignore this night. They would not overlook the ruin left in my wake. No longer was I a forgotten remnant, a mere shadow lurking in the corners of history.

Tonight, they would know fear.

The mark upon my skin pulsed—no longer a burden, but a testament to what I had become. The transformation was still incomplete, but even now, I felt the difference. Strength coiled beneath my flesh, waiting to be unleashed.

A presence approached from the ruins ahead. This one, unlike the knight, did not tremble.

I recognized her immediately.

Golden hair, eyes like molten amber, and an aura that crackled with restrained power. The First Princess. A woman known for her unwavering strength and ruthless determination.

She stood amidst the wreckage, unshaken by the devastation. Her gaze locked onto me, unreadable yet piercing.

"You've changed." Her voice was steady, devoid of surprise or fear.

I smirked. "Not enough."

A gust of wind swept through the battlefield, carrying the scent of ash and blood between us.

She tilted her head slightly, studying me. "You should be dead."

"I should," I agreed. "But fate had other plans."

She remained silent for a moment before nodding. "I see."

No hesitation. No disbelief. She accepted the truth as it was, without the need for further explanation.

That alone made her dangerous.

I shifted slightly, the weight of the moment settling between us.

"You've made your choice, then?" she asked.

I met her gaze, unwavering. "I have."

She sighed, the faintest trace of regret flickering across her features. "Then there's no turning back."

I nodded. "There never was."

The tension between us thickened, an unspoken understanding passing in the space between words.

Then, without warning, she moved.

A flash of gold—a blade slicing through the night.

I barely had time to react.

Steel met steel, the impact reverberating through my bones. Sparks danced in the air, illuminating the space between us.

She was fast. Faster than I remembered.

But I was faster.

I twisted, redirecting her strike before countering with a devastating force. She barely evaded, pivoting with inhuman precision. Our battle had begun.

And neither of us intended to lose.

---

The Breaking Point

The clash of our blades sent shockwaves through the ruins. Each strike carried enough force to shatter stone, yet neither of us relented.

She fought with discipline, precision honed through years of mastery. Every movement calculated, every strike deliberate. But I was no longer the same opponent she once faced.

I felt it—the shift in the air, the moment she realized the gap between us had changed.

A flicker of hesitation.

I seized it.

My next attack shattered her guard, forcing her back. She landed several feet away, her breath coming in uneven gasps.

For the first time, uncertainty clouded her eyes.

"This power…" she murmured. "It's not just the curse, is it?"

I said nothing.

Because even I didn't fully understand it yet.

But I didn't need to.

All that mattered was that I would never be weak again.

I took a step forward, my presence pressing against her like an unseen force. She straightened, gripping her blade tighter.

Then—

A horn sounded in the distance.

Reinforcements.

She exhaled sharply, frustration flashing across her face. "This isn't over."

I smirked. "No, it isn't."

With a final glance, she turned and disappeared into the ruins.

I remained where I stood, listening to the approaching army.

A storm was coming.

And I was ready.

---

Author's Note:

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