THE GENERAL'S DISGRACED HEIR

The air in the grand hall crackled with a tense silence after David and Number 4 vanished as if dissolved into crumbling sand. The scene left everyone in a stunned stupor, their forms frozen mid-action. Mariana's widened eyes betrayed the shock that coursed through her.

The presence that had declared itself as the Monarch of Light and its sudden disappearance gnawed at her, a bewildering enigma hanging in the air.

Breaking the silence, Mariana stumbled forward toward her sister. Her hands trembled as she reached for her, the curse tightening its grip, forcing Elara into another fit of agonized coughing. "Elara," Mariana whispered, desperation edging her voice. She felt powerless, her will to protect her sister straining against the oppressive weight of the curse.

Sir Richard, ever steadfast, picked his sword. His gaze flickered from the fading particles of sand where David had stood to the imposing figures of Numbers 3 and 8. "The Monarch of Light…" he muttered under his breath, questioning its nature. Was it an ally sent to save them or a harbinger of something far darker? Regardless, his focus remained unbroken—his duty was to safeguard the Archon at all costs.

Number 8 sidled up beside Number 3, her excitement barely contained. "I could feel it," she murmured, her lips curving into an eager smile. "Number 4's blessing—it's like a tingling sensation. Amazing." Her eyes sparkled with delight as she turned to Number 3, her companion.

Number 3 offered her a measured glance, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "In due time," he replied cryptically. "If you prove yourself worthy here, Number 1 may make an exception for you."

The prospect filled Number 8 with glee. Her heart fluttered as if spurred by the promise of ascension. She turned her attention to Sir Richard, the sole guardian standing between them and the Archon. "You're brave," she said mockingly, her voice laced with malice, "but bravery won't save you. Close your eyes now, and I might just spare you."

Richard's grip on his sword tightened. "I won't take such a repulsive option," he spat. His steely resolve burned in his eyes, unwavering in the face of death.

"End this quickly," Number 3 ordered Number 8, his tone cold and authoritative.

"With pleasure," Number 8 purred, stepping forward. But before she could strike, the space around them began to fracture. Cracks splintered the air, glowing with an otherworldly light that hummed with an ominous resonance. Number 3's smirk deepened. "Ah, it seems Number 4 has dealt with the anomaly," he mused.

Yet, as the fracture widened and finally shattered completely, the emerging figure stunned both Number 3 and Number 8. It wasn't Number 4 standing before them.

It was the Monarch of Light, His masked face was darker than the night, and the slits for his eyes flared with magenta fury., his presence commanding and unyielding.

The sight of him sent shockwaves through the room. The surprise painted across Number 3 and Number 8's faces underneath their make was almost comical, but the weight of his arrival was anything but amusing.

Sir Richard's breath caught as the figure before them exuded a palpable force that seemed to shake the very foundation of the hall. A chilling silence followed, the battle yet to resume but the tension now unbearable.

The silence that followed the appearance of the Monarch of Light was shattered by Number 8's enraged scream. "What have you done with Number 4?" her voice rang out, filled with both fury and desperation, echoing through the grand hall.

The Monarch's reply was a deep, resonating rumble that seemed to shake the very walls. "You'll find out soon enough," he said, his tone as cold as the void. His presence exuded an unshakable dominance, a beacon of power that made even the air feel heavier.

David, standing tall beneath the guise of the Monarch, spoke inwardly to Luna, "Get ready."

"Already contacted them," Luna replied with sharp readiness, her beastly instincts at their peak.

David's lips curled slightly, his voice edged with determination. "Then let the hunt begin."n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Without further warning, David blurred into motion, his figure vanishing from sight like a shadow merging into the darkness. Number 3 staggered back, his dark eyes behind his mask widening in shock as his instincts screamed at him.

Why can't I see him? he thought frantically. But it was already too late.

A clawed, darkened hand emerged from the shadows, seizing Number 3's face with an iron grip. The sheer force behind the attack sent him reeling backward. David drove forward without pause, propelling both himself and Number 3 toward the towering windows of the hall.

"No!" Number 8 cried, her hands raised to cast a spell, her fingers already weaving tendrils of chaotic mana. But before she could finish, Luna materialized from David's shadow with feral precision.

Her boot connected squarely with Number 8's face, sending her stumbling backward. "Your opponent is me!" Luna roared, her voice laced with an animalistic growl. Her aura surged, a wild and untamed force that made the air ripple around her.

Her beastly energy surged, the primal power almost tangible, forcing Number 8 to brace herself against the oppressive presence.

Behind Luna, David smashed through the stained-glass window, the shards glittering like falling stars as they plummeted through the night air. The sharp winds howled as David and Number 3 fell from the castle's upper levels.

Number 3 flailed in mid-air, trying to regain control, but David didn't relent. Shadows coiled around his form, pulsating with dark energy. They lashed out, binding Number 3's limbs as David drove him downward with relentless force. Below them, the castle grounds rushed closer, the faint glimmer of steel and stone illuminated by the crimson glow of the fractured sky. Experience new stories with empire

Luna, still inside the hall, cracked her knuckles as she faced a now disoriented Number 8. "I've been itching for a proper fight," she said, her grin revealing a row of sharp teeth. "Let's see if you're more than just talk."

Number 8 licked the blood from her lip, her expression twisting into one of sheer rage. "You'll regret this, beast!" she hissed, unleashing a torrent of chaotic mana.

Luna's claws gleamed under the dim light as she charged forward with unrelenting fury. Behind her, the sound of Number 3's body slamming into the ground resounded like thunder.