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My mind races. If they forcibly recast the vow, everything we did is lost. I dodge the demon lord’s second strike, my ankles sliding on the slick floor.I need to break their focus or free Malphas.Another slash from the demon lord nearly takes my head off. I duck, heart hammering. “Malphas,” I shout, “hold on!”

He roars in defiance, illusions surging, but the monarchy’s wards glow in the mosaic. The chain around his ankles spreads, creeping up his calves. Blood seeps from his leg wounds. The vow’s flicker intensifies, though not fully restored yet. He looks at me, anguish blazing in his red eyes.He can’t fight them alone.

I grit my teeth. Time to unleash the power I swore to master without losing my life. The monarchy’s attempts to rebind Malphas must be interrupted. I can’t sever the vow with half measures. A swirl of dark energy slithers in my veins, reminiscent of the day I first discovered my lineage. My father’s blood, the Abyssborn strain, calls me to let go of mortal constraints. Black runes flicker across my arms, lines of liquid darkness that swirl around my wrists.Yes.

A jolt of dread hits me. The prophecy warns that channeling the Abyss might devour my soul if I’m not strong enough. But I have no choice. “Malphas!” I scream, letting that primal energy surge through my limbs. The black runes intensify, flaring across my chest and jaw. My vision tinges with shades of obsidian and amethyst, the entire temple cast in swirling fractals of shadow.

The rival demon lord sees the shift in me. Its eyes widen. It lunges again, collar crackling. I thrust my sword, but now the black runes across my arms feed my strike. The blade crackles with abyssal energy, slicing through the demon’s scale hide more easily. It shrieks, staggering. The monarchy lords stiffen in alarm, realizing something unstoppable stirs within me.

Arcane lines swirl around my feet, where the mosaic tries to trap me too. But the runes on my skin glow with an alien brilliance, negating the mosaic’s hold. My entire body trembles with power.I must focus. I can’t let it claim me.

I channel that torrent, aiming it at the monarchy lords who cluster near Malphas. “Let him go!” I hiss, voice resonant with an echo that doesn’t sound like me. My arm snaps out, a wave of inky black force ripping across the floor. The mosaic cracks, sending shards of basalt flying. Two lords are hurled back, slamming into pillars with bone-crunching force. The staff-wielding elf curses, frantically weaving a protective ward.

Malphas, pinned by the chain, growls in agony. But the wards flicker under my assault. He fights to stand, illusions roiling around his horns. The staff-wielding elf tries to restore the chain, chanting faster, but I stride forward, black runes swirling across my skin in a dizzying dance. My sword glints with abyssal flame.

The staff-wielding elf reels, raising his arms to conjure a protective barrier. I channel a second wave of that Abyss power. It tears through his ward, knocking him flat. A final slash of my blade disarms him—literally. He howls, blood spraying. Anotherlord scrambles away, wide-eyed, while the demon lord tries again to intercept me. Despite its collar, it roars in terrified fury, perhaps forced by commands it cannot disobey.

The runes on my body burn, threatening to devour my lifeforce. My chest feels hollow, like something is carving out my essence. I taste iron, my vision darkening at the edges. But I cling to my vow—I will not die for them. I direct the torrent outward. If the prophecy demands blood, let it feed on the monarchy’s wards.

With a savage cry, I pivot to face the demon lord. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, seeing the tortured gleam in its eyes. Then I slash with my sword, augmented by the black runes flaring across my skin. The collar cracks, blasting arcane sparks. Freed from direct control, the demon lord shudders, confusion sweeping its features. It staggers backward, reeling from centuries of forced servitude. I pray it doesn’t turn on me, but if it does, I’ll endure.

The monarchy lords who remain upright gather near Malphas, redoubling their chain binding. He’s half collapsed, illusions flickering under the vow’s partial resurgence. “Kill the mortal!” one lord shrieks. “She’s channeling something unnatural—shatter her essence!”

I can’t let them recast the vow. My eyes lock on Malphas, his horns trembling from the chain’s grip. “Hold on!” I shout, pushing through the swirling black haze. Wards flicker all around us, but my power—the Abyss—eats away at their structure.

The nearest lord tries to shape a controlling hex, but the runes on my arms intensify. I thrust my palm out, unleashing a black torrent that consumes his hex midair, leaving him gasping. My entire body shakes, pain blossoming behind my skull.Too much.The prophecy’s dire cost hovers in my mind. If I push harder, I might burn out my soul.But I must.

I ignore the pounding in my veins and leap onto the dais. Malphas is pinned to a crumbling dais pillar, arcane chains wrapping his legs and waist. He stares at me through half-lidded eyes, illusions sputtering around him. “Valentina,” he gasps, voice shredded. “Don’t—hurt yourself?—”

I press a shaking hand to his chest. “No. We do this together. We end them.” My sword glows with the same black flames swirling over my arms. I hack at the chain, forcing the Abyss’s energy into the links. The monarchy’s wards shriek in protest. Each link cracks, releasing bursts of arcane sparks. The vow stabs me with a final wave of agony, as if furious that I’m undermining it. I nearly collapse from the onslaught, but Malphas grips my shoulder, steadying me.A silent encouragement.

The chain shatters under the combined might of illusions and Abyss power, unleashing a shockwave that hurls us backward. We tumble across the dais, landing in a heap. Malphas coughs, illusions swirling again, free from the chain’s final hold. The monarchy’s vantage is undone—the vow can’t be recast while these wards crumble.

Dark elf lords shriek in panic. Some scramble to regroup, chanting with frantic speed to salvage the meltdown. The entire hall trembles, columns cracking under the arcane blowback. Dust and chunks of obsidian rain from the ceiling. Torch flames gutter, plunging sections of the chamber into half-darkness.

I rise on unsteady legs, breath ragged. The black runes still slither across my skin, but they’re dimmer now, like a dying ember. My body screams from the strain, each nerve raw. “Malphas,” I choke out, reaching for him. “We… we have to finish this.”

He staggers upright, horns scraping a low-hanging beam. His wings spread, illusions flaring around him like a storm. “Agreed.The monarchy isn’t done. We must neutralize them or they’ll keep hunting us.”

The remaining lords gather near the altar at the far end, arcs of twisted energy swirling as they form a defensive phalanx. Three stand, battered but determined, chanting in perfect unison. The swirl of their combined magic conjures a serpent of pure arcane force. It lunges across the dais, fangs wide, aiming at Malphas. He tries to disperse it with illusions, but they collide in a brilliant flash, sending him stumbling.

I grit my teeth, stepping forward. My arm twitches from the Abyss’s aftermath, black runes flickering like a dying candle.I have one final push.Another arc of power roils in my core, threatening to sear me from the inside. But I refuse to balk. The monarchy can’t recast the vow if they’re incapacitated.

Growling, I raise my sword. The serpent of arcane force darts for me now, the lords’ chanting rising to a crescendo. I pour the last of the black runes into my blade, swinging with everything I have. The serpent collides with the blade in a thunderous crash. My knees buckle, the floor cracking beneath me. But I hold, letting the Abyss devour the serpent’s essence. The swirl of runic power dissolves in a burst of sparks. I collapse to one knee, gasping, vision swimming.That might be all I have left.

Malphas seizes the opening. He lunges at the lords, illusions forging half a dozen clones that converge in a single pincer. The lords try to respond, but their wards are in disarray from the vow meltdown. Arcs of illusions shred their defenses. Malphas roars, unleashing black flame from his horns in a final wave. The lords are overwhelmed, flung backward in a hail of obsidian shards. Two lie motionless, the third crawls away, choking.

An eerie silence drapes the hall, broken only by chunks of ceiling crashing to the floor. The swirling wards overhead flicker like snuffed candles. The vow’s presence no longer pulses at the dais—they can’t recast it. My chest heaves, limbs trembling withthe last vestiges of the Abyss power receding. I feel painfully mortal, battered and drained. Yet a wave of triumph surges in me.

Malphas stands among the wreckage, illusions sparking around his horns. He’s hunched, panting, arms streaked with blood. Smoke wafts from the battered wings draped behind him. “We did it,” he whispers, almost disbelieving.

I swallow, tears stinging my eyes. “No vow remains… you’re free.” The words feel foreign on my tongue. My heart clenches with joy and a strange hollowness—I truly found a way to break those chains without surrendering my life. At least for this moment.

He crosses the broken floor in two strides, ignoring the swirling dust. I can see raw wonder in his molten gaze. “Valentina…” His voice catches.

I manage a shaky grin, dropping my sword with a clang. “You said you’d rather fight than kneel, right? We made it happen.”

He pulls me into a fierce embrace, ignoring the battered spines of his horns and the scorching illusions that still crackle around him. I sag against his chest, relief spilling through me. My legs threaten to give out, but his arms hold me upright. The monarchy’s grand ritual site stands in ruins, wards undone, lords broken or dead.We did the impossible.