The palace erupted into pure chaos.
Servants ran through the halls in a frenzy, their footsteps pounding against the marble as they screamed about an impending catastrophe. Guards barked orders, reinforcing the walls with layers of protective enchantments that probably wouldn't help.
And the nobles?
The nobles, in a display of peak survival instincts, had already decided their fate.
"If it comes down to a choice," one of them announced, wiping the sweat from his brow, "I would rather be devoured by a hellspawn than be murdered by Her Majesty."
The others nodded solemnly.
"At least the monster won't make us suffer before it kills us," another mumbled.
"Her Majesty might revive us just to kill us again," a third whispered.
I pinched the bridge of my nose.
Truly, democracy was thriving in Velmoria.
The ground trembled again, a deep, unnatural groan reverberating through the foundation of the palace. The air grew thick, charged with a magic so dense it was almost suffocating.
Verania's golden eyes burned.
She turned to me immediately. "You are leaving. Now."
I crossed my arms. "I am perfectly capable of—"
She grabbed me.
Lifted me effortlessly.
And carried me under her arm like a stolen artifact.
"Mother—!"
"No arguing."
I squirmed as she strode down the hall, her grip ironclad. The terrified nobles scrambled out of her way, practically flattening themselves against the walls.
"Mother, I have legs," I hissed.
She ignored me.
Sylvithra appeared from the opposite hall, her silver robes flowing behind her as she walked with her usual calm menace.
Her violet eyes took in the scene the nobles praying for death, the lingering scent of burnt furniture, Verania carrying me like a sack of gold and sighed deeply.
"I leave for one hour," she said. "One."
Verania grinned. "Welcome back, darling."
Sylvithra's gaze flicked to me. "She is safe?"
"She is currently being relocated."
I scowled. "I am not an artifact to be relocated."
"You are our artifact," Verania said smoothly.
Sylvithra ignored my glare and placed a hand on my forehead, scanning me quickly. After a moment, she nodded. "No injuries."
"Yet," I muttered.
Sylvithra lifted a delicate eyebrow. "Do you want injuries?"
"…No."
"Then stay where we put you."
I huffed.
The palace trembled again, this time with a force so violent that several paintings crashed to the floor.
Verania tightened her grip on me.
Sylvithra's eyes darkened. "It is close."
A low, inhuman growl echoed from beneath us, vibrating through the palace walls.
The nobles immediately began writing their wills.
Verania grinned wider. "I was hoping for some excitement today."
Sylvithra sighed. "You blew up the council chamber forty minutes ago."
"Yes, and? That was different."
"It was not."
"Less talking, more killing," Verania declared.
Sylvithra rubbed her temples. "You are insufferable."
"And yet, you married me."
Before I could watch them flirt in the middle of an apocalyptic event, Sylvithra snapped her fingers.
A wave of silver mist coiled around me.
I jerked. "Wait—"
A moment later, I was somewhere else.
The silver mist faded, revealing a large, heavily fortified chamber.
Glowing runes lined the walls, pulsing with protective enchantments. A handful of palace staff, mostly scholars and healers, stood inside, looking just as confused as I felt.
I scowled.
"Did they just teleport me out of the action?"
A young scholar, no older than fifteen, blinked at me. "You… were resisting being teleported?"
I turned toward the heavy iron-reinforced doors, considering my options.
The moment I stepped forward, three layers of magic barriers flared to life.
I sighed.
They had locked me in.
"Unbelievable," I muttered.
The palace trembled again, and this time, a deep, bone-rattling roar shook the very air.
I turned toward the barriered doors, my eyes narrowing.
"Fine," I murmured. "If I can't fight, I'll watch."
There was a small, enchanted viewing crystal on the far wall, glowing faintly. A monitoring system, meant for security purposes.
I approached it, pressed a hand against the surface , and the image flickered to life.
The palace courtyard was in ruins.
Black cracks split through the earth, glowing with a sickly, pulsing energy. The sky above the palace had darkened, thick storm clouds swirling overhead.
And in the center of it all the thing emerging from beneath the palace was grotesque.
A hulking, multi-limbed beast with a twisting, shadowed form that barely seemed solid. Its body pulsed with an unnatural energy, its jagged limbs stretching as if they weren't meant to exist in this world.
Its eyes—glowing, hollow voids—snapped toward my mothers.
It roared.
Verania rolled her shoulders. "Finally."
Sylvithra lifted a hand. A thousand silver threads unfurled behind her, each one gleaming with magic.
The air crackled.
The nobles, who had bravely chosen to remain instead of fleeing, immediately reconsidered their life choices.
Verania vanished.
One second, she was standing on the cracked stone.
The next, she was directly in front of the beast, her fist colliding with its skull.
The impact was thunderous.
The monster reeled back, screeching, its entire form shuddering from the force of her blow.
Sylvithra raised a hand. Silver threads coiled around the creature's limbs, wrapping tightly before she snapped her fingers.
The threads ignited, pulsing with pure energy as they sliced through the beast's body like molten steel.
The creature shrieked, flailing violently, its limbs regenerating as quickly as they were destroyed.
Verania grinned. "Oh, this one's sturdy."
Sylvithra sighed. "Annoyingly so."
The monster lunged.
They moved as one.
Verania, a blazing storm of golden fire, her movements fast, brutal, overwhelming.
Sylvithra, a lethal wraith of silver magic, her strikes precise, methodical, absolute.
Together, they were terrifying.
I leaned against the crystal screen, watching in awe.
This was the first time I had ever seen them fight seriously.
And it was magnificent .
But the battle wasn't over.
The monster though wounded wasn't weakening.
Something felt wrong.
I could feel it.
Deep in my bones.
Something was coming.
Something worse.