The Destructive Adventures of the Lovers-Chapter 60: He Owns This World

Ella sat by the arched window of the Lavera Castle, her gaze lost in the snow-choked horizon. The cold light of the storm flickered against the stained glass, casting fractured hues across her face. She had refused to join the others, the weight of her choice settling like a stone in her chest.

Xyrille approached, her soft footsteps echoing through the empty hall. The princess's silver hair flowed behind her, catching the light like a ghostly river. She leaned against the stone pillar beside Ella, her violet eyes sharp yet unreadable.

"You chose to stay," Xyrille said, her voice low. "Why?"

Ella's jaw tightened. She traced a faint crack in the glass with her fingertip. "I have my reasons."

"Afraid?"

Ella's eyes flashed, but she forced herself to breathe, to remain calm. She thought of the icy wastelands, the countless lives lost, and the creeping fear that twisted in her gut whenever she closed her eyes. "Not afraid. Just... wary."

Xyrille studied her for a long moment, then looked out over the kingdom, where the snowstorm twisted like a living thing, its icy tendrils reaching hungrily toward the Holy Land. "You asked me about the five masked ones."

Ella's head snapped up, her fingers curling into the windowsill. "Yes. Who are they?"

King Jacob entered, his long, regal strides echoing against the marble floor. His sword, the one that moved on its own, hovered behind him like a loyal shadow, its blade faintly glowing with blue fire. He paused, his stern face framed by a crown of twisted iron and polished gemstones.

"The Dead Clan," he said, his deep voice resonating through the hall. "Or, as we call them, the Evil Clan."

Ella felt a chill creep into her bones, colder than the storm outside. She had heard whispers, old stories meant to scare children into obedience. But the reality of their existence struck her like a blade to the heart.

"Who are they?" she whispered, her breath fogging the glass.

King Jacob's eyes darkened. "They are a clan created by Vaneshka. Once, they thrived in Simbaku, but their lust for chaos made them a threat to the very kingdom they served. Even King Vesh, his own brother, cast them out when their darkness became too much to bear."

He stepped closer, his shadow stretching over Ella and Xyrille like a shroud. "Vaneshka, their leader. A master of blood manipulation. He can control life itself, bending flesh and veins to his will."

Ella's heart raced, her mind flashing back to the masked figure in her nightmares. The one with the scythe, the one that seemed to stare straight into her soul.

"Aror," Jacob continued. "A warrior who was killed by King Vesh himself but clawed his way back to life through sheer force of will. He cannot be truly destroyed."

Xyrille's eyes narrowed, her fingers flexing at her side. "Lydia," she whispered, her tone bitter. "Once the Magician of Simbaku. Her magic twisted and corrupted, a shadow of what it once was."

"Phill," Jacob added, his jaw tightening. "A brute of unimaginable strength, his body nearly indestructible. They call him the giant of the Dead Clan."

Ella felt her pulse quicken, her palms damp with sweat despite the cold. She swallowed, the knot in her throat tightening.

"And then there's Atlas," Jacob's voice dropped to a whisper, as if speaking the name alone might summon the creature. "He can stop time, move between shadows, and teleport. A silent, deadly force."

Ella took a step back, her heart thundering in her chest. She had faced horrors before, but this... this was something darker, more ancient, like a nightmare that refused to die.

Back in the Holy Land, chaos reigned. Gabriel shoved Owen aside as a stone platform shot upward, lifting him into the air. He barely had time to catch his breath before Raven's twisted hand flicked, and the platform shattered beneath his feet, sending him crashing into the dark forest below. He hit the ground with a bone-crunching thud, his vision swimming.

Matt's body erupted in flames, his roar echoing through the frozen landscape as he hurled a massive fireball toward Raven. The flames reflected in Raven's cold, unblinking eyes as he waved a hand, the fireball splintering into a thousand pieces, each fragment bursting into icy shards as it struck the ground.

The surface of the Holy Land twisted and warped, stone spikes ripping from the earth, tearing through flesh and bone. Lila and Margo moved as one, their blades flashing in the storm-dimmed light, cutting down the advancing ice knights as they swarmed through the shattered gates.

"Hold them back!" Margo screamed, her voice hoarse, her sword cutting through a knight's chest, the creature crumbling into a pile of frost and shattered armor.

Lila's eyes burned, her movements a blur as she spun through the fray, her strikes precise and lethal, her every step leaving a trail of shattered ice in her wake.

Raven watched from above, his dark cloak billowing like wings, his cold smile stretching across his face as the Holy Land collapsed beneath him. He spread his arms wide, the storm swirling around him like a living thing, feeding on the chaos, the destruction.

"This world will know true fear," he whispered, his voice lost in the howling wind.

The storm howled through the fractured castle walls, shaking the crumbling stones with every icy breath. The snow, thick and unrelenting, clawed at the sky like the hands of lost souls, drawn to the chaos unfolding below.

Margo stumbled back, her eyes wide with horror as the figure before her collapsed into the snow. It was her guardian, the one who had once shielded her from every shadow, now lifeless at her feet. She choked on a scream, her voice lost in the wind's hungry roar.

"No... no..." she whispered, her fingers trembling around the hilt of her sword, the metal slick with blood and frost. She staggered back, her heartbeat echoing in her ears, drowning out the distant screams of the fleeing villagers. The storm seemed to respond, swirling with greater fury, the dark clouds pressing in like a tightening noose.

From the distant walls of Lavera, King Jacob stood tall, his cloak snapping like a flag of war, his eyes narrowed as he watched the storm creep closer. He gripped his sword, the blade humming with its own life, a ghostly blue light whispering along its edge. His voice cut through the wind. "Prepare the gates! Arm every knight! Do not let the storm take this kingdom!"

Margo stumbled, her vision blurred by the icy wind and the blood dripping from her side. She turned, her breaths shallow and quick, watching the villagers scramble toward Lavera's distant lights. She raised her arm, her fingers stiff with cold. "Go! Keep moving! Don't stop until you reach the gates!"

A sharp pain tore through her side. She gasped, her body folding as the blade twisted between her ribs, cold as the grave. She turned her head, eyes locking onto the twisted grin of the ice knight behind her.

"Weak," he snarled, his eyes glowing like the heart of a glacier. "Pathetic human."

Margo gritted her teeth, blood flecking her lips as she forced her arm to move. She raised her sword, plunging it into his skull, the blade slicing through bone and frozen flesh. The ice knight shuddered, his body collapsing in a crackling heap, steam hissing from the wound as his soul escaped into the storm.

Gabriel staggered to his feet nearby, his own blade flashing through the air, cutting down two more knights that charged him. Blood streaked his face, his breaths coming in short, ragged bursts as he fought his way toward her.

"Margo!" he shouted, his voice raw, cutting through the storm's wail.

Matt's fists erupted in flames, the fire reflecting in his wild eyes. He thrust his hands forward, sending a blazing orb hurtling toward the dark figure hovering above the shattered castle. Raven. The sorcerer laughed, his cloak whipping around him as he extended a hand, the castle's shattered stones rising at his command. He flung them back at Matt, the air shattering with the sound of stone against fire.

Martha emerged from the collapsing hall, her eyes cold as the frozen world around them. She raised her hand, shards of ice swirling around her, each one glinting like a blade. She hurled them at Raven, her lips curled in a snarl. "You think you can twist my mind? You think I fear you?"

Raven smiled, his teeth bared, his shadow spreading across the snow. His voice cut through the storm, sharp and taunting. "You're in my world."

The ice knights hesitated, their glacial bodies flickering like dying embers. Their courage cracked, their frozen hearts splintered. They turned, retreating into the storm as it swallowed their forms, their metallic screams echoing against the broken walls.

Margo clutched her side, her blood staining the snow. She forced herself to stand, her breath a thin mist in the freezing air. Lila ran to her, her hands glowing with soft, golden light as she placed them against Margo's wound.

"Stay with me," Lila whispered, her voice trembling. "We're not done yet."

Below them, King Vesh stirred, his chest heaving as Lila's power flowed into him. He pushed himself up, his eyes burning with rage and resolve. He grasped his fallen sword, his grip tightening as he staggered to his feet. He looked up at Raven, his voice a low, deadly growl. "Your world? I'll shatter it."

As the last of the ice knights fled, Raven remained, his dark figure hovering like a nightmare above the broken castle. The storm closed in, its voice a twisted chorus of screams and cracking ice. Their breath hung in the air, mingling with the ashes and snow.

Now, only Raven stood between them and the end of all things.