What In The Seven Hells Are You?!!

"You? You are just a human." The general scoffed, his gaze sharp and accusing. "I don't know how you spirited her away right under our noses, but I can sense it – not a single drop of life essence flows within you." He let out a heavy sigh, the sound laced with a grudging acknowledgement. "Perhaps, Boco made a grave error in allowing himself to be felled by you."

"I did not kill Boco," Draven replied, a slow, knowing smile curving his lips.

"Oh?" The general's brow furrowed, his voice laced with authority. "Then who did? Boco was my subordinate. I demand to know!"

Draven's smile widened as he glanced down at Alexandra, still cradled in his arms. With a subtle flick of his wrist, a vast, shadowy cloak materialized, and in a swift, fluid motion, he draped it over her naked form, concealing her vulnerability. With another wave of his hand, the blood on her face lifted, swirling towards him before dissolving into his being.

"Hmm," he murmured, licking his lips, his gaze intense. "Your blood is as sweet as you are."

The general, Krakens, and Alexandra all frowned at his peculiar act and pronouncement.

"As for your question," Draven continued, his eyes now fixed on the general, "my woman killed him."

"Woman?" Confusion etched the general's features. "Isn't she your woman?!" He gestured towards Alexandra.

"Well... That isn't yet a settled matter," Draven said with a low chuckle, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

'Not settled? So Alice is his woman because he slept with her... Then I am not fully his woman?' Alexandra's gaze drifted to her body, a wave of complex emotions washing over her. 'If becoming his woman grants me the strength to avenge Mother, then I will do it. What do I truly have to lose? I must be true to my own desires.' Her gaze softened as it settled on Draven's sharp profile.

'He might be shameless at times, but there's a caring side to him,' she mused, a fleeting image of Draven tenderly embracing the sleeping Atticus flashing through her mind.

Alexandra sighed, her thoughts returning to her mother. 'I lose the last vestige of my original family... But I will not allow anything to harm those I now consider mine. I should simply acknowledge my feelings, rather than suffer the pangs of jealousy seeing other women around him. This man... he clearly values pleasure and his women. By becoming one, I will secure his protection and the time I need to grow stronger. Only then can I finally exact my revenge upon the invaders.'

She inhaled deeply, then exhaled, a newfound resolve hardening her gaze. 'This is my vow to you, Mum... I will not rest until every last invader is either slain or driven from our world.'

"Alice? You speak of the demon-eye human Boco took in?" The general leaned back against his throne, a flicker of understanding in his eyes:

"I always sensed that girl would prove troublesome." He paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.

"One thing eludes me, though. Why would she abandon Boco to follow a mere human? Even if she is human, you cannot possibly offer her any real protection." His tone was laced with condescension.

Draven's smirk widened.

"I can offer her both protection and pleasure, a feat neither you nor Boco could ever dream of achieving."

"You... You bedded her?" The general's shock was palpable.

"Don't sound so surprised," Draven retorted, his smirk deepening. "We are here today to kill you all and claim this castle for ourselves."

"We?" Alexandra whispered, her eyes widening in surprise.

"ATTACK!!!"

A roar echoed through the hall, and Alexandra whirled around to see the thirty villagers surging into the hall, weapons raised, their eyes burning with a fierce blend of determination and bloodlust.

'When did they become so powerful?' she wondered.

The general watched the villagers advance, his expression a mixture of disdain and disbelief as they flowed past Alexandra and the still-smirking Draven.

"Do you truly believe I am intimidated by these pathetic weaklings?" The dark-skinned general shook his head dismissively. "Kill them all."

At his command, the fifty Krakens within the hall lunged forward, a wave of monstrous forms crashing towards the advancing villagers.

"These creatures will make a satisfying feast."

The general stretched out a hand towards the onrushing villagers, a dark energy beginning to coalesce around his palm. But before he could unleash his power, his face contorted in agony, turning an alarming shade of pale.

"What is happening?!" he gasped, clutching at his chest as a torrent of viscous black blood erupted from his mouth.

'What in the abyss is happening?!'

His gaze shot upwards, his eyes locking onto a single, crimson eye embedded within the surface of a sword that seemed to hang suspended in the air. Its eerie gaze was fixed directly upon him.

'This?! What unholy thing is this?!'

The cacophony of battle began to fade, the vibrant hall dissolving into an oppressive, all-encompassing darkness. Only the solitary red eye remained, a malevolent beacon high above, its gaze piercing him.

'All this time... you were prolonging the conversation, so this abomination could drain my energy?! That's why you kept the villagers outside, and why that elf remained beyond its reach! All this while, you were silently siphoning away the life essence of me and my soldiers!'

He stared up at the cyclopean eye, his voice a strangled cry of disbelief and terror. "WHAT IN THE SEVEN HELLS ARE YOU?!!!"

He clenched his fists, his knuckles bone-white from the force of his grip.

"No! I will not die here...! I am the fifth general! Those spineless cowards couldn't even scratch me, how can you?! A mere human!!!"

He roared, and a dense, pulsating wave of life essence erupted from his body, shattering the oppressive illusion.

The general blinked, his vision swimming, and found himself back in the blood-soaked hall. His gaze darted around, his blood running cold as he registered the horrifying scene: half of his soldiers lay lifeless on the ground, their bodies drained and withered.

'I escaped the illusion... but only for a few precious seconds. I must get out of this sword's range.'

Before anyone could react, the general vanished from his ornate throne, leaving behind only the lingering scent of ozone.