Free Web NovelChapter 181: The Queen And The Sword (2)
Kestrel grappled with her emotions. She had witnessed pieces of his past, understood the traumas he faced, and the depths of his despair. The weight of his pain made her think that maybe finding peace in death was kinder for him.
But then she considered the lake around her. This verdant haven, alive with the dance of fireflies and butterflies, was lovingly etched in his memories. It was a testament to the cherished moments he had shared with his twin in their younger days. This place made it evident that Brandon still had ties to the world, bonds that he was not ready to sever.
Kneeling by the moist edge of the lake, Kestrel stretched out her hand towards the sinking Brandon, urging him, "Come on, rise up. Let me help you out."
Then, a delicate blue butterfly gently alighted on her shoulder. Alongside Kestrel’s hand, a ghostly male arm reached out, both beckoning.
"Return to us, Brandon."
"Please, come back, big brother."
In that moment, both Kestrel’s voice and that of a gentle young boy resonated, their pleas merging as one.
Tendrils sliced through the shadows, plunging into the cold lake waters and coiling around the dimming firefly. Slowly but firmly, they hoisted him out from the thick muck of the lake and placed him on the damp, grassy bank.
Brandon lay sprawled on the grass, his drenched wings and body clumped together, seemingly lifeless. He looked as though he had been ravaged by an intense psychic force, much like the butterfly.
"You’ve got to hang in there. Your friends are inside the Tower, trying to save you. Don’t let them down," urged Kestrel, squatting close to him on the grassy patch.
"And don’t leave him without his rightful place." By "him," she meant the frail butterfly resting on her shoulder. Although its wings were ragged and it appeared worn out, it kept fluttering weakly, almost as if cheering someone on.
From where he lay, Brandon’s eyes fixed on those faint blue wings, and a spark of hope slowly reignited in his once listless gaze.
Under Kestrel, an expanse of massive tendrils spread outwards in every direction.
A soft drizzle began to fall, bringing comfort to this battle-worn realm, seemingly healing the pain and wounds of the world.
...
The regal Queen gracefully descended the vast white staircase, flanked by Luther and an entourage of elite royal guard alphas. This impressive group made its way directly to the concealed academy situated beneath the palace.
Such was the scale of the Queen’s psychic prowess that it felt like she enveloped the entirety of the Tower. She was attuned to every minor psychic disturbance within its confines.
Recently, she had picked up on an unfamiliar psychic wave coming from deep within the academy.
The Queen felt a presence, elusive but still faintly perceivable, hiding in that very location. It irked her that someone had managed to sneak in right under her watchful eyes. ƒrēewebnovel.com
Any other area in the Tower might have been dismissible, but that specific spot held immense significance to her. freewёbn૦νeɭ.com
In the midst of the parade, the Queen moved with her usual elegance, her face hidden behind a veil, emanating an aura of calm. However, an inexplicable chill seemed to permeate the air, and the alphas tailing her felt its icy grip.
The Queen’s intimidating presence was palpable and freezing, leaving the trailing alphas trembling in its wake, gripped by an unsettling unease.
"Just who has had the audacity to rile up our usually composed Queen like this?" the alphas whispered among themselves.
"Having trapped themselves like this, they’re surely doomed, aren’t they?" Annoyed by the sudden upheaval, the alphas speculated about the intruder’s impending doom.
The royal procession had now encircled the spot where the trespasser was believed to be hiding. No matter how skilled or powerful this intruder was, there was no escaping the Queen’s grasp now.
Using their enhanced alpha hearing, they could just about hear voices coming from the heart of the academy.
It looked like the little intruder didn’t realize they were completely boxed in.
A team, weapons drawn and ready to go, moved forward silently and with caution. But when they stormed the untouched courtyard all at once, they were met with emptiness.
Standing alone in this untainted white space was a single black longsword. This wasn’t just any sword – it was decorated with lots of eyes, big and small, and they were humming a soft melody. Every now and then, faint psychic waves would come off the sword, feeling so much like real human emotions that it seemed even more alive than some actual people.
Seeing the sudden crowd, the sword playfully let out a clear whistle. "Hey there!"
Luther walked up and yanked the black sword out of the ground, questioning, "Where’s the one who wields you?"
Most of the eyes on the sword shut tight, except one that looked over at him with a hint of mischief, "Why would I spill that?"
Luther knew that these talking weapons were born under special conditions in the Polluted Zone and were super rare finds. Every single one of them had its own quirky and sometimes mischievous personality and preferred staying in the Polluted Zone. Only those brave enough to venture into that zone multiple times might have the luck to find one.
He remembered one of his alphas, Ren Sloan, who had this red blade that seemed kind of evil. Once that weapon got a taste of blood, it was unstoppable, making a lot of warriors super jealous.
"What do you want in exchange?" The Queen’s voice, cold as ice, rang out.
The sword replied sassily, "You? Nope, not interested. I’ve got a thing for beautiful people."
"I especially like the innocent, untouched ones. Seeing someone so loyal get a little messy? That’s the real treat. Why would I want to hang with a pieced-together creature like you?"
Without hesitation, the Queen reached out with her chilly, pale hand, firmly holding the sword’s handle.
"Hey! What do you think you’re doing? Don’t lay a hand on me! We’re not even from the same universe; you’ll never get me," the sword shouted in protest.
But as the Queen’s grip tightened, the once unyielding sword began to flex under her gentle touch, as if it might break any second.
"Look out, everybody! The stitched-up monster’s losing her cool!"
"Someone! Quick, ughhhh, this is murder!" It cried out in a panic.
As the sword was bent to the max, every single eye on it burst open.
"You think you’re scaring me?" Multiple voices echoed, filling the courtyard. "Sure, you’re powerful, but you can’t break me. Because deep down, I’m pliable, I’m the most flexible thing in this world..."
In a shocking twist, the sword, which was as solid as metal moments before, melted into a puddle of black goo, slipping through the gaps in the Queen’s flawless fingers.
The inky liquid splattered onto the flawless floor, darting everywhere. Drops, both tiny and large, wasted no time in finding their way to the floor’s various drainage openings.
The very next moment, the Queen unleashed her mighty psychic power. It felt like the sudden rush of ice-cold glaciers, a snowstorm consuming everything in sight. This force was so intense, it felt like mountains tumbling down, filling every corner of the area. Yet, by this time, those little black drops had joined the waste water in the underground drains. They hid their scattered thoughts, flowing with the water, making it impossible to track them down.
"That was a close one, way too close for comfort."
"She’s seriously no joke."
"Lucky for us, we made our escape just in time, without leaving a trace."
"Ren definitely owes us one after this."
"Do you think he managed to pull it off?"
"What amusing challenge should we set for him when we get back?"
