Sons of a devil-Chapter 116: The rise of ash and blood

"She melted the nursery door and left a trail of flames all the way to the eastern border."

Cain paled. "Oh no."

"She said she was going to help her cousins," Leo added, voice cracking. "She said, 'I'm going to burn the bad ones too, just like Azrael and Caelan.'"

The battlefield was already a scorched wasteland.

Rebel forces had begun to retreat in fear. Not because of armies—but because of the three children who walked like gods.

Azrael Jr. stood in the center, eyes glowing gold, flames swirling around his fists. Caelan stood beside him, silent, obsidian shadows coiled around his legs like serpents. Between them walked Rina, barefoot in the ash, her red curls wild, her tiny dress blackened with soot and magic.

Her laughter echoed unnaturally.

She clapped her hands—and a wave of flame rolled down the valley, turning trees and men alike to nothing but smoke.

"I like the fire," she giggled, skipping through the chaos.

"Good girl," Caelan muttered, eyes never leaving the fleeing rebels.

Azrael Jr. smirked. "She learns fast."

In the distance, a rebel captain screamed, "They're children! Stop them!"

One soldier dared charge forward.

Rina blinked once—and the man caught fire from within, glowing bright before disintegrating into cinders.

The battlefield turned silent.

Then Azrael Jr. raised his hands. "Let this be a lesson. You killed our grandparents. You shattered our peace."

Caelan's voice followed like thunder. "Now we are your vengeance."

And the three walked forward together, fire, shadow, and chaos trailing in their wake.

Back at the palace, Zara collapsed in Leo's arms.

"She's going to get hurt," she sobbed. "She's just a child—she doesn't know right from wrong!"

Leo clenched his jaw. "No. She knows exactly what she's doing. She saw what they did to our parents. She saw what Azrael and Caelan became."

Selene stood by the window, her heart heavy. "They're not lost yet. But if we don't stop this..."

Cain looked up. "Then the next war won't be between kingdoms. It'll be between generations."

He turned toward the court, eyes blazing.

"We find them. We bring them home. Before the ashes bury everything."

The sun had begun its descent, casting a haunting glow over the battlefield. The once vibrant earth, now charred and scorched, seemed to bow under the weight of the children's fury. Azrael Jr., Caelan, and Rina stood at the edge of the destroyed land, their eyes glowing with untold power, their presence radiating an air of pure destruction.

The rebel forces, broken and disorganized, could only stare in disbelief at the children standing before them. These were not mere children—they were harbingers of the end.

Azrael Jr. raised his hand, and the ground trembled. The flames surrounding him flickered wildly, roaring like a beast unleashed.

"Run!" a voice shouted from the ranks, but it was too late. The ground beneath them cracked open, fire spilling out from the rifts, swallowing anything in its path.

Caelan's shadow powers expanded, casting an unnatural darkness over the battlefield. The rebels, once armed with weapons of steel and stone, now faced an enemy far more formidable—powers beyond comprehension, powers forged in rage and grief.

"You're no match for us," Caelan whispered, his voice low and venomous. With a single flick of his wrist, shadows twisted and reached out, pulling soldiers to the ground, consuming them in a suffocating black void.

Rina, standing just behind her older cousins, raised her hands high into the air. Her small form was engulfed by flames, and in an instant, she became a storm of fire, her laughter dancing over the crackle of the flames.

"Fire! Fire everywhere!" she squealed with joy, sending a wave of intense heat toward the retreating soldiers. The flames split and spread like a wildfire, chasing after anyone foolish enough to run. Her tiny hands waved through the air, and entire squads were consumed, leaving nothing but ashes and smoke.

"We should make them pay," Azrael Jr. muttered, his golden eyes narrowing as another line of soldiers broke formation and tried to flee into the woods. "They think they can escape us?"

He snapped his fingers, and a fiery tornado formed at his feet. The wind howled as flames spiraled upward, rising into a towering inferno. The rebels, no longer able to comprehend what was happening, screamed in terror as they ran, but there was no escape. The children were everywhere, faster than any mortal, more powerful than any army.

Azrael Jr. grinned as he watched the flames consume another group. "Let them burn."

Meanwhile, Rina danced through the chaos, her fiery trail leaving behind a scorched earth, her laughter ringing out with a maddening joy. "Look! Look at all the fire!" she cheered, bouncing around as if playing a game. "We'll make the world so warm! Won't that be nice?"

But despite her childlike enthusiasm, there was an undeniable darkness in her powers. Everything she touched was consumed in an instant. The land, the trees, the soldiers—all of them turned to nothing as if they had never existed.

Caelan, his eyes glowing black as night, stood near the center of the battlefield, a quiet observer of the destruction unfolding before him. His gaze was cold, calculating, but there was no denying the enjoyment he found in seeing their enemies crumble. With a swipe of his hand, more shadows emerged, snaking their way across the ground and swallowing the remnants of the rebel forces whole.

The soldiers had no chance. They had no strategy. They had no hope.

Only chaos, fire, and darkness followed in the wake of the three children.

One by one, the rebels fell, their bodies turning to ash or being pulled into the black abyss of Caelan's shadows. Azrael Jr. set fire to the remaining camp, and the sounds of crackling flames replaced the screams of men who once believed they could overthrow a kingdom. Now, they were nothing but memories.

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It was then that a lone figure emerged from the distance, his face pale with terror. The rebel general, leader of the soldiers who had dared to challenge the royal family, looked on at the devastation before him.

He had heard the stories—the children with the power to destroy entire villages, the children of kings and queens, now turned into weapons of vengeance. But he had never truly believed it. Not until now.

His hand trembled as he raised a sword, though his resolve faltered. His troops were scattered, broken, and all that remained was the overpowering presence of the three children.

"I—" The general's voice shook. "I surrender! Please! I beg you! We meant no harm!"

Azrael Jr. tilted his head, watching him with an unreadable expression. His flames flickered, but they didn't grow, merely simmering with intensity.

"Your pleas are meaningless," he said coldly, his voice carrying the weight of every death that had come before. "You have killed our parents. And now, you will face the consequences."

With a gesture, Azrael Jr. flared the fire, sending an arc of heat toward the general. The flames circled him, taunting, daring him to try and escape. But there was no way out.

Caelan's voice, dark and haunting, came from behind. "You had your chance. Now, you will burn with the rest."

The general dropped to his knees, bowing before the children. He had no more words to offer. His fate had been sealed the moment he ordered his men to attack.

The flames closed in around him, and with a final scream, the general was consumed.

The battlefield was silent once again. The only sound was the crackling of fire and the faint sobs of Rina, who had stopped playing to watch the end of the general.

Azrael Jr. turned to his cousins, his expression softening for a moment. "Is it over?" he asked, almost too quietly.

Rina nodded, her hands still tingling with the warmth of her powers. "I like the fire. It feels nice," she said, her voice innocent yet eerily detached from the destruction she had caused.

Caelan, never one to show emotion, allowed a faint smile to curl on his lips. "Yes. It's over. For now."

But as the fire dimmed, as the shadows withdrew, there was a deep sense of something shifting in the world. The children had unleashed their powers in the name of vengeance, but it was clear now that there was no going back. They had crossed the point of no return.

And no one—no one—could stop the storm they had become.