The tracker’s scraping voice vibrated through the stone walls of the underground cavern like a physical curse, making the children wail and the mothers press their hands over their ears.
I sat frozen, my palm slammed against my burning shoulder where the royal crest felt like an iron branding rod fresh from the forge.
On the surface, the lead tracker didn’t get to enjoy his twisted victory for long.
Before he could push past the inner wall, a massive shadow dropped from the upper battlements.
Vance hit the snow-covered ground with a thunderous boom, the impact fracturing the stone tiles beneath his boots.
His silver eyes were completely bloodshot, his fangs fully extended, and his massive broadsword was already sweeping in a lethal, blinding arc.
“Step back from the wall, filth,” Vance growled, his voice deeper and more monstrous than any rogue I had ever encountered.
The tracker leader barely managed to bring up his black-veined hands, channeling a dense shield of purple miasma to block the blow.
Clang!
The collision sounded like a lightning strike.
The sheer force of Vance’s physical strength sent a shockwave through the courtyard, blowing back the thick mountain fog for fifty yards.
The tracker leader was thrown backward, his leather boots digging deep trenches into the snow as he struggled to maintain his footing.
For the first time, the tracker’s twisted smile vanished.
Vance didn’t give him room to breathe.
He moved with a terrifying, predator-level speed that defied his massive frame.
His blade became a blur of silver light, hacking through the dark energy shields, forcing the apex hunter of the Dark Alchemist into a desperate, frantic defense.
The villagers watching from the upper slits realized a fundamental truth: Vance wasn’t just a guard commander.
He was a monster-level alpha warrior who had survived the bloodiest wars in history.
But while Vance held the leader at bay, the other two trackers were wreaking havoc across the inner courtyard.
They didn’t fight like honorable wolves.
They used forbidden blood magic, turning the fallen bodies of the outer guards into exploding traps of corrupted bone and ash.
Three senior Astravian warriors charged the second tracker, their shields locked in perfect formation, but a single wave of the tracker’s hand sent a volley of decaying black needles through the iron links of their armor.
The warriors collapsed, their skin turning an ashen gray within seconds as the poison dissolved their lungs.
“Hold the line!” an officer screamed, his voice cut short as a black arrow pierced his chest.
Despite Vance’s individual brilliance, the sanctuary was rapidly losing ground.
The ancient defenders were outnumbered by the sheer lethal versatility of the Alchemist’s corruption.
Every minute that passed, the scent of fresh blood grew thicker on the snow, suffocating the clean mountain air.
Deep underground, the silence of the hidden chamber had been completely swallowed by the terrifying echoes of the slaughter above.
But for me, the loudest sound was still that scraping voice echoing in my mind: “We can already smell your blood.” The silver crest on my shoulder was burning so hot now that the fabric of my shirt began to singe, a faint wisp of white smoke rising from the skin.
The twins were thrashing within me, their mixed gifts creating a violent tempest in my core.
The fierce twin wanted to rip through my skin to join the bloodbath above, while the calm twin was pulling so hard on the remaining magical threads that the air in the underground chamber began to hum with a high-pitched vibration.
Corin dropped to his knees in front of me, his old eyes wide with absolute panic as he watched the glowing crest shape itself perfectly on my skin.
“They are drawing it out,” Corin whispered, his hands shaking as he tried to press a stabilizing rune against my temple.
“The battle…
the scent of blood and Astravian magic on the surface is acting like a catalyst.
The twins are responding to the violence, Aria.
They are forcing your dormant lineage to fully awaken.” “I can’t stop it, Corin!” I cried out, tears of pain and frustration spilling over my cheeks.
“It burns…
it feels like it’s tearing me apart!” Corin looked up toward the ceiling, hearing the distant walls crumbling, then looked back at my glowing shoulder with absolute dread.
“If the Silver Crest awakens tonight, the entire mountain will know where you are,” Corin revealed, his voice dropping into a terrifying whisper.
“The pulse of a fully awakened royal crest will cut through the fog like a beacon.
It won’t just be the trackers who see us.
Every pack within a hundred miles will feel your birthright.” Before I could even process the horror of his words, a second alarm bell began to ring from the upper levels.
This wasn’t the rhythmic warning bell.
This was a frantic, broken tolling—the signal for total defeat.
A heavy iron bolt shot back, and the massive stone door of the hidden chamber was slammed open.
A young guard tumbled inside, his silver armor completely shattered across the chest, dark blood pooling from a massive gash on his shoulder.
He fell to his knees, gasping for air as he looked at Corin and me with hollow, terrified eyes.
“Commander…” the guard choked out, his voice trembling before he collapsed face-first onto the cold dirt floor.
“Commander Vance has fallen!” The chamber went dead silent.
The last wall protecting us had just crumbled.
[END OF CHAPTER 25]