The Banished Shy Luna Chapter 177

The moment Mason’s signal hit—a sharp vibration through the stone—I grabbed Toren’s hand and we sprinted forward together.

The ward rippled like glass touched by wind.

And then—

we broke through.

The others were right behind us. Tyson and Douglas—disguised as guards—slipped through with eerie precision. The twins pulled up the rear, moving like trained shadows, not even a whisper of sound from their steps.

We were in.

The passage beyond the ward was narrow, carved straight into the bedrock with sharp angles and echoing lanternlight that seemed too dim, too cold. As we descended the winding staircase, something shifted in the air.

Heavy.

Oppressive.

Wrong.

It felt like walking into a storm that had already decided who it wanted to kill.

Even Toren, usually calm in danger, stiffened beside me. His hand tightened around mine.

“You feel it too, starlight?”

“Yeah,” I whispered. “Feels like the Chamber is holding its breath.”

Or mourning.

Or bracing for something worse.

Below us, muffled voices grew sharper—Council members arguing, irritated, impatient.

“…the Aura Seeker should be functioning by now—”

“…what do you mean it won’t activate?!”

“…Mason, stop stalling and fix it!”

Toren pulled me into the darkest pocket of shadow against the stone wall. The others pressed in tight around us, forming a protective wedge as we approached the final turn.

We could see the arched opening into the Council Chambers now—massive iron doors propped open as if the meeting had grown too heated to bother closing them.

Mason’s voice carried through the echoing hall.

“For the last time, Elder Halvar, the Aura Seeker cannot be recalibrated without a new power source!”

I peeked around the wall.

The Chambers were structured like an ancient courtroom—semicircle tiers rising upward, the Council’s elevated table at the head.

But then—

My breath froze.

Two chairs…

Two Council thrones…

Marked with giant black X’s.

Not empty.

Not waiting.

X’d out.

Toren saw it too. His entire body locked. “They’re dead.”

My heart hammered. “But… how? Who killed them?”

Talon whispered behind us, “The Elders don’t just die. Unless someone powerful killed them.”

Tyson muttered, “Or unless the packs they tried to slaughter fought back hard enough.”

Douglas shook his head slowly. “Or unless the other Elders turned on them.”

We all stared at the two black marks—harsh, dark, final.

One seat belonged to Elder Nyx.

The other… to Elder Varrick.

Two of the most vicious.

Two who had personally ordered entire packs wiped out.

Two who would have gladly gutted me for sport.

Gone?

Murdered?

Rebelled against?

“This isn’t good,” I whispered.

Toren leaned in close. “Explain.”

“Because if the Elders killed their own,” I murmured, “it means they’re afraid of something.”

He looked down at me.

“You.”

The weight of that hit like a punch.

But before I could respond—

Elder Thora slammed her hand on the Council table.

The sound cracked through the chamber like a gunshot.

“ENOUGH!” she roared. “Mason, if you do not fix the Aura Seeker this instant, we will find someone who CAN!”

Mason didn’t flinch. “Feel free to try. None of your other assassins-slash-secretaries have my qualifications.”

A few Council members actually flinched.

Talon snorted under his breath. “Damn, Mason.”

But I was still staring at those black X’s.

Something felt… off.

The air around the marked seats pulsed faintly—as if the destruction of those Elders had torn open some kind of magical wound.

The hair on my arms stood up.

“Toren…” I whispered.

“Yeah?”

“I think whatever killed them… is still here.”

His jaw clenched. “Then we need to move fast.”

Footsteps echoed from the far side of the chamber.

Toren stiffened.

Two enforcers were approaching—getting close to where we hid.

Too close.

Tyson leaned forward slightly. “Tell me when.”

Douglas, disguised in armor, whispered, “Not yet…”

The enforcers passed us—so close I could smell the metallic tang of their weapons.

One paused.

Turned.

And looked straight toward our shadowed alcove.

My heart stopped.

He took one step forward.

Then another.

His hand lifted toward the hilt of his blade—

Douglas moved.

A silent blur.

He grabbed the guard, dragged him into the darkness, and knocked him unconscious before he even made a sound. Tyson caught the second, clamping a hand over his mouth until he slumped bonelessly to the floor.

The twins dragged the limp bodies behind a support column.

No alarms.

No screams.

No detection.

But the tension?

It doubled.

Tripled.

This wasn’t going to stay clean for long.

Toren touched my shoulder gently, pulling me closer, lowering his voice until only I could hear it.

“Starlight… whatever happened in this room—it’s not over. And if the Elders didn’t kill each other…”

He looked at the marked seats again.

“…then something is hunting them.”

A chill ran down my spine.

“…What if it was the creature I released?” I whispered.

The twins froze behind us.

Douglas’s head snapped toward me.

Talon went rigid.

Tyson slowly turned from his position by the fallen guards, brows drawn low, voice dark:

“What creature?”

I swallowed. “The one the Elders chained underground. The one that begged for mercy. The one that said it would kill them for me.”

You could have heard a grain of dust hit the floor.

Toren stared at me like I had just admitted to freeing a nuclear weapon.

“You didn’t tell us it made a vow,” he whispered sharply.

“I—didn’t think it mattered in that moment,” I hissed back. “Toren, you were dying. I didn’t have time to think about the fine print!”

Talon scrubbed a hand over his face. “Firefly… you unbound a creature forged by Elder magic. Of course it mattered.”

Toren muttered, “Of course the thing pledged itself to her. Why wouldn’t an ancient death monster decide to become her emotional support demon?”

The twins looked between all of us like they were about to pass out.

Marianne whispered, “So… you think that thing killed two Elders?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered back.

But deep down—

I absolutely did know.

Because the moment I unlocked it, the creature had looked at me with hollow, ancient eyes and said:

“I will return with the Elders’ blood.”

And now…

two Elders were dead.

Marked.

Crossed out.

Wiped from existence.

My heart pounded.

“If it kept its word,” I murmured, “then it’s hunting the others right now.”

Douglas froze mid-step. “So you’re saying we’re walking into a Council Chamber where an enraged execution-beast might pop out of the floor at any second?”

“Maybe.”