CRASH!

The sound of the Great Barrier shattering wasn't just a noise; it was a physical blow to the soul of every elf in the city.

Shards of green mana rained down from the sky like broken glass, dissolving into motes of light before they hit the ground.

Unfortunately, the purple fire raining down behind them didn't dissolve.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The outer districts of the Elven Capital instantly turned into a sea of flames.

"Go!" Damien shouted, his voice cutting through the panic in the Throne Room. "Lyra, Leona! You have your orders! Don't let them reach the World Tree!"

"On it!" Lyra didn't look back. She sprinted toward the spiral stairs leading to the high canopy, her mana bow already forming in her hand.

"I will be the wall!" Leona roared, slamming her helmet visor down. She charged toward the main entrance, her massive shield glowing with aura.

Damien turned to Isabelle. She was staring at the crumbling sky, her pupils trembling. The chaotic mixture of Holy magic from the Twilight Association and the dark, abyssal mana beginning to leak from the portals was overwhelming her senses.

"Isabelle! Eyes on me!" Damien grabbed her shoulder.

She gasped, snapping out of her trance. "Young Master… the air… it tastes like blood."

"It's about to get worse. Stay focused. We are the last line of defense."

Saying this, Damien dragged her toward the inner sanctum.

........................

[The Queen's Bedchamber]

The room was a masterpiece of nature magic, walls woven from living vines, glowing flowers providing soft light, and a massive bed made of white wood.

But right now, it smelled of sweat, fear, and iron.

Queen Aelinor lay on the bed, writhing in pain.

Her golden hair was matted to her forehead. Three high-ranking elven healers were hovering over her, their hands glowing green, trying to stabilize her erratic life force.

"The baby… the mana is too strong!" one healer cried out.

"It's rejecting our healing! The child is siphoning the Queen's life force to protect itself!"

"Hold her down!" the Head Healer shouted.

Damien kicked the door shut behind him and Isabelle. He quickly scanned the room.

'One door. Two windows overlooking the city. Five healers. The Queen.'

"Isabelle," Damien said calmly, ignoring the screams from the bed.

"Stand by the window. If anything tries to come in, bird, bat, or shadow, you burn it."

"Yes, Young Master." Isabelle took her position, her hands igniting with crimson fire.

Damien walked to the center of the room. He closed his eyes and expanded his Mana Sense, pushing it to the limit with his Midnight Tome.

'The barrier is gone. The city is in chaos. The Twilight Association will use this confusion to send in their elite assassins. They won't fight Leona at the front gate. They'll teleport directly here.'

He didn't have to wait long.

Fwip.

A nearly silent sound, like cloth tearing.

From the shadows cast by the healers, three figures emerged. They wore the sleek, black bodysuits of the Twilight Assassins, their daggers glowing with the sickly green of anti-regeneration poison.

"Die, abomination spawn," the lead assassin hissed, lunging for the Queen's exposed stomach.

The healers screamed, too slow to react.

But Damien had been waiting.

"Dual-Art: Golden Shadow Bind."

He didn't move his feet. He simply stomped.

CLANG!

Golden chains, forged from his aura, erupted from the floor, wrapping around the assassins' legs. Simultaneously, black spikes shot out from their own shadows, impaling their arms.

"Argh!" The assassins froze mid-lunge, trapped.

"You called her an abomination," Damien said, walking up to the lead assassin. His right eye glowed gold, his left eye void-black.

"But you're the ones trying to kill an unborn baby."

He placed his hand on the assassin's head.

"Gravity… Crush."

Isabelle didn't even need to turn around. She snapped her fingers from the window.

SQUELCH.

The three assassins were instantly flattened into the floorboards, their bones pulverized by a sudden, localized gravity field.

Damien kicked the remains aside. He looked at the terrified healers.

"Focus on the Queen," he ordered coldly. "I'll handle the trash."

...........................

[Twenty Minutes Later]

The room was quiet again, except for the Queen's labored breathing. The initial wave of assassins had been dealt with.

Damien leaned against the doorframe, wiping blood off his sword. He looked over at Isabelle. She was still staring out the window at the burning city, her back stiff.

"Isabelle," Damien said softly.

She didn't turn. "Young Master… am I making it worse?"

"What do you mean?"

"The Queen," she whispered.

"She's in pain because the baby is reacting to the dark mana in the air. My mana. Even though I'm suppressing it… I'm a half-demon. Just being in this room… am I hurting the princess?"

She turned to him, tears welling up in her ruby-red eyes.

"Maybe I should go outside. Maybe Leona should be here. I'm… I'm poison to them."

Damien walked over to her. He stood beside her at the window, looking out at the apocalypse unfolding below.

"Do you see that fire out there?" Damien pointed to the purple flames of the Twilight Army. "That's 'Holy' fire. It's burning the elves alive."

He pointed to the black smoke rising from the lower districts where the Demon Cult was summoning undead. "That's 'Abyssal' magic. It's rotting the trees."

"Looking closely, although they claim to be pure, but aren't the demonic cults and the twilight army attacking together?"

"However, that's not what I wanted to show you, look!"

He turned to Isabelle and took her hand. Her skin was hot to the touch, buzzing with energy.

"Power isn't good or evil, Isabelle. It's just a tool. Yes, you have demon blood. Yes, your aura is terrifying."

He squeezed her hand.

"But right now, your terrifying aura is the only thing keeping the real monsters away. You aren't poison. You're the antidote."

Isabelle looked at him, her lip quivering. "The antidote?"

"You're the only one strong enough to scare them," Damien smiled.

"So stop doubting yourself. Stand tall. When that Demon General gets here, I need you to look him in the eye and show him who the real monster is."

Isabelle sniffled, then wiped her eyes. She took a deep breath. The red glow in her eyes stabilized, burning with a fierce resolve instead of fear.

"Yes, Young Master. I… I will be the monster you need."

WOOOOOOOOOOOM.

Suddenly, the air pressure in the room dropped. The sound of the battle outside vanished, replaced by a suffocating silence.

The healers stopped moving. The Queen gasped, her eyes snapping open wide.

"It's… here…" Aelinor wheezed.

Damien spun around. He looked out the window.

The moon, which had been hidden by smoke, suddenly broke through the clouds.

But it wasn't white. It wasn't even the pale yellow of the harvest moon.

It was Blood Red.

And standing in the center of the blood-red moon, floating high above the city like a god of death, was a figure draped in tattered grey robes, holding a staff made of a dragon's spine.

Charron the Undying.

"He's here," Damien said, his grip on his sword tightening until his knuckles turned white.

[System Alert!] [Major Plot Event Detected: The Descent of the 12th General.] [Warning: Enemy Power Level - Peak 7th Order / Pseudo-8th Order.] [Survival Chance: 5%.]

Damien smirked.

"Five percent? I like those odds."

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