Princess's Revenge: Slave to the Soulbound King Chapter 78

Thalia

As my incantation reached its crescendo, the four sacred relics responded to my call, rising gracefully from the altar's surface to suspend themselves in the air above me. Their individual lights began to interweave, forming a brilliant pillar of pure white radiance that stretched toward the heavens. The energy was intoxicating, filling every fiber of my being with warmth and purpose.

But then something went wrong.

A tendril of inky blackness began to seep from the Moonlight Flower's silver glow, like poison dripped into pure water. The corruption spread with alarming speed, its dark tendrils writhing with malevolent life as they invaded the pristine magical field. I felt the wrongness of it immediately—this was no natural interference, but something deliberately crafted to sabotage our ritual.

"Thalia!" Draven's voice cut through the mystical atmosphere as he leaped onto the altar platform in three swift bounds. His face was tight with alarm as he witnessed the white light gradually darkening to an ominous gray-black. "What's happening? The light is turning dark!"

I opened my eyes, feeling beads of perspiration forming on my brow as I struggled to maintain control over the rapidly deteriorating spell matrix. "There's a powerful dark magic interfering with the ritual," I said, my voice hoarse from the strain of controlling the relics. "It's hidden within the relics themselves... I've never encountered such complex dark sorcery."

Chief Mage Carl, his weathered face grave with concern, approached the altar with his rune-covered staff raised to analyze the twisted energy field. After a moment of intense concentration, he turned to Draven, his voice heavy with dire implications.

"The situation is catastrophic, Commander. The dark energy is consuming the purification magic. At this rate, not only will the ritual fail, but our precious relics will be completely corrupted, transformed into instruments of evil." His ancient eyes flickered with fear and helplessness. "Our magic is utterly powerless against this."

Draven's fists clenched until his knuckles went white, his eyes burning with desperate determination. "The wolf clan cannot wait any longer! The infestation spreads with each passing day, claiming more lives." He stared directly into Carl's eyes, his voice low and urgent. "There must be a way. Are we to stand here and watch our only hope crumble to nothing?"

Carl shook his head, his aged face etched with defeat. "I'm deeply sorry, Commander. This dark magic's intensity far exceeds our calculations... it appears to be specifically designed to target this ritual. We are... powerless."

I stood there, watching the pure light being devoured inch by inch, feeling the weight of impossible choices crushing down upon me. Deep in my heart, I knew there was still one path—the summoning arts passed down through generations of human High Priests. I could invoke the Purification God directly, a power potent enough to overwhelm any darkness and ensure the ritual's success. But using it would mean completely exposing my true identity.

If I failed to act... I looked at Draven's tense profile, thought of Adelaide fighting on the distant borders, imagined the wolf clan sliding toward destruction. I closed my eyes, drew a deep breath, and felt my resolve crystallize into diamond-hard determination.

"Draven, Master Carl, please take everyone and retreat," I said, my voice suddenly calm with absolute conviction, my eyes shining with resolute light. "I need to complete this ritual alone."

Draven stared at me in shock. "Thalia, this is far too dangerous! You've already expended so much magical energy..."

I moved closer to him, gently grasping his hands and offering him a reassuring smile. "Trust me, I know what I must do." My eyes held too many unspoken words, as if silently bidding farewell to something precious.

Under Draven's command, all personnel withdrew from the altar's central area. I stood alone on the platform now shrouded in dark energy, closed my eyes, raised my hands, and began chanting in an ancient language no werewolf had ever heard—the sacred tongue of human High Priests, passed down through millennia. The summoning arts that had been secret for countless generations.

As the incantation flowed from my lips, my body began to emit a gentle golden radiance that pushed back the surrounding darkness. Above the altar, the sky suddenly split open with a crack of brilliant light, and pure, powerful white radiance poured down like a waterfall, instantly dispersing the black energy and restoring the four relics to their blazing glory, their combined light piercing the heavens themselves.

---

Draven

"This... this is impossible..." Chief Mage Carl stood at the base of the altar, staring up at the miracle unfolding above us with eyes wide as saucers, his voice trembling with shock. "This kind of power..."

I caught the abnormality in the old mage's tone immediately and turned to him sharply. "Master Carl, you recognize this magic?"

Carl seemed to snap back to reality, glancing cautiously around us before lowering his voice to a whisper. "Commander, that is the 'Divine Summoning'—the highest level of spell craft that only human High Priests can master. I've read descriptions in ancient texts, but never... never witnessed it myself." His eyes flickered with disbelief and awe. "According to legend, only those with special bloodline inheritance and lifelong training as human High Priests can perform such magic. This means..."

My expression became complex and heavy as my mind raced, connecting fragments that had puzzled me for months. Thalia's uncanny knowledge of ancient incantations, her familiarity with human history, the wisdom that sometimes seemed to transcend her years—suddenly everything made perfect sense.

I clenched my fists as conflicting emotions churned in my chest. She had been concealing her true identity all along. But why? What was her true purpose for coming to Silverhowl?

"Carl," I said, my voice low and commanding, brooking no argument. "What you have seen and heard tonight must never be spoken to another soul. This is a military order."

The old mage nodded knowingly. "I understand, Commander."

On the altar above, as the final ray of light shot toward the heavens, the ritual reached its completion. The four sacred relics' energies fused perfectly, creating an enormous purification array that spread in all directions. The cleansing light enveloped all of Silverhowl, and every black beetle that touched it instantly crumbled to ash.

However, Thalia's body finally succumbed to the massive magical expenditure, her golden hair falling limply as she collapsed backward like a marionette with severed strings.

I moved with predatory speed, leaping onto the altar and catching her in my arms just as she fell. I could feel her weak breathing and gradually cooling skin, my heart a tempest of conflicting emotions. "Send word immediately to the Wolf King," I commanded my lieutenant, my voice barely concealing my exhaustion and worry. "Tell him the ritual succeeded."

"And investigate the source of that dark magic," I added grimly. "Someone deliberately corrupted the relics. I want answers."

Moonlight bathed Thalia's peaceful face in my arms, making her appear both fragile and beautiful. I gazed down at her and gently brushed the strands of hair from her forehead, countless questions and an indefinable emotion welling up in my heart.

In this moment, I didn't know how I should face her—as a werewolf commander confronting a potential enemy, or as a man holding the woman he loved deeply.