Princess's Revenge: Slave to the Soulbound King Chapter 138

Carl

I walked slowly back to my laboratory, the echoes of polite applause still ringing in my ears. The corridor felt longer than usual, each step weighted with growing certainty that something fundamental had shifted in Lycandor Keep.

*When did we start applauding administrative reports like royal proclamations?*

I paused at my laboratory door, keys trembling in my aging hands. The urgent matter of the Wolf King's condition still demanded attention, but the council's dismissive attitude suggested I was fighting a losing battle.

The flickering candlelight cast shadows across my laboratory as I hunched over the blood samples I'd extracted from Cressida hours earlier. Perhaps concrete evidence would force the council to listen.

Three hours of analysis confirmed my worst fears. The crimson liquid writhed with unnatural movement, black tendrils weaving through it like living smoke. I'd seen this corruption before, in texts so ancient most believed them myths. Vampire black magic—the same foul sorcery that had poisoned our ancestors thirteen centuries ago.

"Impossible," I whispered, adjusting my spectacles. But the evidence was irrefutable. The dark essence pulsed with malevolent purpose, designed to corrupt whatever it touched.

My hands trembled as I reached for the dusty tome I'd discovered earlier. The leather binding cracked as I opened it, releasing musty scents of forgotten knowledge. There, illuminated by golden ink, was the passage that made my blood run cold:

*"Only the pure blood of the Moon Bride, blessed by Selene herself, can cleanse the corruption that flows from shadow's embrace. She who bears the mark of the crimson moon shall be the salvation of the beast-king, though the path be fraught with sacrifice beyond measure."*

Adelaide. The true Moon Bride, bearer of the blood moon mark, the only hope for our king's salvation. And we had sent her away.

I slammed the tome shut. Lycanthar wasn't merely succumbing to bestial madness—he was being systematically poisoned, and I was the only one who knew the truth.

*I must tell Draven immediately.*

I hurried toward Draven's chambers, gathering my evidence. The halls felt charged with an undercurrent of menace I couldn't place.

His door stood open. The room was empty. Completely, utterly empty.

Where Draven's personal effects had once resided—weapons, books, clothes—nothing remained but bare stone and dust motes dancing in moonlight.

"Excuse me," I stopped a passing guard. "Where is Commander Draven?"

The young werewolf's eyes shifted nervously. "Master Carl, Commander Draven has been... relocated to Moonclaw Citadel for extended rest. Commander Garrick felt the change would benefit his mental state."

"When?"

"Just now, sir. Commander Garrick's direct orders."

My stomach dropped. Draven had been removed while I was focused on research. "And Commander Vespera?"

"Still at Grimstone Vale, sir."

I retreated to my chambers, mind racing. Garrick was systematically removing potential threats. Armed with knowledge that could expose his conspiracy, I was likely next.

"Elara!" I called to my most trusted apprentice.

She appeared within moments, noting my agitation. "Master, what's wrong?"

"Prepare two fast horses and travel provisions. We leave tonight."

"Leave? But Master—"

"No questions. Trust me." I began gathering crucial evidence—blood samples in protective vials, copies of the ancient prophecy, treatment formulas. "Something terrible is happening to our king."

As Elara prepared our escape materials, I noticed shadows moving past my windows. Garrick's watchers, no doubt.

I created a complex illusion spell, weaving flame magic and conjured apparitions. If we were to escape, I needed a substantial distraction.

"Elara, listen carefully," I said, sealing evidence in an enchanted leather satchel. "If anything happens to me, you must reach Princess Adelaide in Eldoria. Tell her the Wolf King's true condition. She is the only one who can save him."

Her face paled, but she nodded with determination. "I understand, Master."

I activated the illusion spell. My laboratory erupted in apparent chaos—false flames, conjured screams, smoke pouring from doors. To any observer, it would appear a magical experiment had gone catastrophically wrong.

In the confusion, we slipped through a secret passage connecting the tower to the stables.

We mounted horses and rode hard toward the Eldorian border. For the first hours, I hoped we might escape unnoticed. But as dawn approached, thunder of hoofbeats behind us shattered that illusion.

"Riders approaching fast!" Elara called.

Six mounted werewolves in Garrick's colors pursued us, their enhanced forms pushing steeds to supernatural speeds. They'd seen through my deception.

The pursuit became magical combat. Enemy riders hurled crackling energy that scorched earth around us. I countered with barriers and diversionary spells, but my aging body couldn't sustain such expenditure.

An attack caught Elara's mount, sending both tumbling. I wheeled around as she struggled to rise, blood streaming from her forehead.

"Master, leave me!" she gasped.

"Never." I helped her up, pressing the satchel into her hands. "But I can't maintain shields and help you escape simultaneously."

The pursuing riders closed fast, their leader raising a curved blade.

I made my choice.

Pushing Elara toward trees that would provide cover, I turned to face our pursuers. Drawing upon every reserve of magical energy, I began weaving the most powerful barrier spell I'd ever attempted.

"Go!" I shouted. "Remember what I told you!"

She hesitated, tears streaming, then disappeared into the forest.

The magical barrier erupted in a dome of crackling silver light, stopping the riders so abruptly their horses reared. The lieutenant dismounted, approaching with obvious respect for the barrier's power.

"Master Carl," he called. "Commander Garrick offers clemency if you surrender peacefully."

I laughed bitterly. "Tell Garrick that a true scholar serves truth, not tyrants."

The barrier was draining my life force. I felt strength ebbing with each second, my heart laboring under magical strain. But it would hold long enough.

"You're killing yourself for nothing, old man. We'll find the girl eventually."

"Perhaps," I admitted, feeling my knees buckle. "But you won't find her today. And that might be enough."

As darkness crept from the edges of my vision, my thoughts turned to Adelaide—the brave princess who'd sacrificed so much for both peoples. She represented hope for a future where werewolves and humans might find peace, where our king might be saved.

The barrier collapsed as my heart stopped, but by then Elara was beyond pursuit, carrying knowledge that might yet save us all.

My last thought was a prayer to the Moon Goddess: *Let this sacrifice mean something. Let there still be time.*

The lieutenant approached my still form, checking for signs of life before shaking his head. "Spread out. Find the apprentice."

But the forest had swallowed her trail, and soon they would return empty-handed to face Garrick's wrath. The old mage had won this final gambit, though the cost had been everything he had to give.