Chapter 8 - The Demon King
The Queen’s beautiful face dissolved completely, revealing the horrific, rotting visage of a demonic shapeshifter.
Elara screamed, scrambling backward into the mud as the monstrous creature yanked the glass dagger from Kaelen’s chest.
Because of the Blood Oath, the moment Kaelen was stabbed, Elara felt a phantom blade pierce her own heart.
She clutched her chest in agony, coughing as the sympathetic pain threatened to tear her mind apart.
Kaelen roared in anger, refusing to die easily.
Drawing upon the new celestial magic coursing through his veins, he reached up and grabbed the shapeshifter by the throat.
His hands glowed with a blinding silver fire that immediately began to burn the demon’s rotting flesh.
The creature shrieked, dropping the dagger as it desperately clawed at Kaelen’s blazing grip.
With a brutal surge of strength, Kaelen crushed the demon's windpipe, turning the monster into a pile of black ash.
Kaelen collapsed back onto the ground, panting heavily as his magical wound slowly began to knit itself closed.
Elara gasped as the intense pain in her own chest simultaneously faded away.
"Are you alright?" Kaelen asked, struggling to his feet and offering her a bloodstained hand.
Elara took it, pulling herself up from the mud, her sturdy frame shaking violently.
"If he dies, I die," Elara realized aloud, the terrifying reality of the Blood Oath finally sinking in.
"Then we must ensure neither of us dies tonight," Kaelen said firmly, picking up the fallen glass dagger.
"The real King is still in the palace, and he is about to complete the ritual using the rejected brides."
They sprinted back through the Forbidden Forest, the celestial magic granting Kaelen incredible speed and endurance.
They reached the palace grounds just as the sun began to set, painting the sky in a bloody crimson hue.
Sneaking through the catacombs, they finally emerged into the grand throne room.
The sight before them was entirely apocalyptic.
King Roland stood before the wooden frame, which was now pulsing with a terrifying, dark purple energy.
Hundreds of terrified young women were chained to the walls, waiting to be tossed into the magical structure.
"Father!" Kaelen shouted, stepping into the center of the room with the glass dagger raised high.
The King turned, his eyes entirely black, and smiled a gruesome, unnatural smile.
"You are too late, my son," the King mocked, raising his hands toward the ceiling.
"The ritual is already complete, and the gates of hell are open."
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The floor beneath Elara began to crack open, revealing a bottomless pit of swirling fire.
A massive, shadowy hand reached out from the abyss, grabbing Kaelen by the ankle and dragging him downward.
