1. The Fallen

"I will never fall!"

One hand gripped her staff. Her mantle was torn, and her long silver hair fell messily as she stood facing the figure before her.

How long had it been?

How many times had the werewolves attacked her clan?

It was supposed to be like the many other days of those wars. But tonight was different.

She was the only one left standing. The rest of her clansmen... her family...

Her fingers trembled around the handle.

All she ever wanted was to have a home. A home for dark witches who were despised by both races.

Her forehead wrinkled deeply. They had to pay!

Pain spread through her body whenever she breathed, each wound reminding her how close she was to her limit.

Her lips trembled. "Who the hell are you?"

She had fought and slaughtered countless werewolves to care about their names, but not this one... He was still standing even after everything she threw at him.

His brow rose slightly, as though he was caught off guard. "Menelyck?"

He went silent, then curiously asked, "Does it change anything?"

Black smoke began to envelop her staff as she gathered what remained of her magic. "The more you must die."

He sighed. "Unfortunate."

They both stood at the center of the hall, most of which was covered in fire.

She could feel the intense heat that made her hair damp, and pieces of the ceiling and pillars continued to crash down, yet neither paid attention to any of it.

Their focus remained on the person standing before them.

The dark energy surrounded the colorless crystal at the tip of her magic weapon until a deep red glow flared from it.

Each pulse of dark energy drained what little strength she had left.

"You will regret ever stepping in my territory!" she said, not hiding her barely contained anger.

After all, this man was the one who led the army of beasts to attack her. Not only that, the army wasn't only made up of werewolves; it had those who possessed elements just like him.

Her gaze hardened as she swung her staff toward him, releasing the spell.

"Infinity Split!"

A sharp red glow cut through the air at high speed, giving a violent whistle as it flew toward him. Before the first attack could reach him, she released another, and then another, becoming three blows.

The first went straight toward him, while the other two attacked from different angles.

The glows tore through everything in their path, cleanly cutting through the house stands, followed by rumbles as the building crumbled further.

Menelyck drifted aside with his superior speed, almost vanishing as he let the first blow miss him.

Twisting his body, he jumped high to avoid the second slash.

But the third was already there.

The slash raked across his chest, leaving a line through it.

Yet just as quickly as he was wounded, the injury began sealing itself.

The wound had barely healed when Menelyck closed the distance between them.

The force of his movement struck her hard, sending her stumbling backward a couple of steps.

She had barely steadied herself when Menelyck was already in front of her, his claws driving into her stomach.

A low sound escaped her as her breath caught. She lowered her wide gaze to her stomach.

Then she turned to his deep red eyes. They were empty, his face remaining neutral just like it had been from the start.

Everything she had heard about him wasn't exaggerated.

He was a monster.

Her body refused to respond to her, too weak to even stand. Yet she still tried to move her staff and attack now that he was closer.

Menelyck withdrew his claws and stepped back, and just watched her.

That sudden pull sent unbearable pain through her, and it halted whatever she tried to do.

Her weapon fell and clattered to the ground.

The one thing that had never left her side. Her hand reached for it, but her whole body went down.

She remained lying there.

Above her, the roof was gone after it had crumbled, allowing her to stare at the dark sky. Through the smoke, she could barely see the stars. The air around her hall was now too thick with blood and smoke.

So this was where it ended.

After everything she had done was it really going to end here?

Menelyck stepped closer and crouched beside her on one knee. She shifted her eyes toward him.

The Alpha's son of the Eon Pack.

Despite the taste of blood growing stronger in her mouth, the corner of her lips lifted slightly.

Their strongest wolf.

At least it had taken him to bring her down.

But there was still one spell she had never dared to cast because of its price.

It demanded a life in exchange.

Now, lying in her blood with her own life hanging by a thread, the price no longer mattered.

She forced the words, barely more than a whisper. “Soul... Wish.”

Hearing those words, Menelyck only blinked. "Is that a curse?"

---

For a moment, Menelyck remained crouching, watching her defiant eyes, now frozen yet still directed at him.

He exhaled deeply.

When was the last time he had encountered such an interesting opponent from another race?

Maybe he should have let the fight last a little longer?

Unfortunately, the task remained unchanged. She had to die.

His fingers passed over her eyelids, closing them.

Beside her lay her staff. He picked it up and examined it briefly as he remembered how she had used it during their fight.

The red glow from earlier was gone, leaving only the shining crystal at its tip.

He glanced at the queen's body again.

He extended his hand, and deep red flames emitted from it before spreading across her body and putting her into the fire.

Carrying her staff, he turned to the exit while behind him, the flames continued to spread to what remained of the hall.