Realm of Power: Werewolf vs Vampire のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 131 - チャプター 140

Lyra POVThe moment Darius slammed into the far wall, the mountain seemed to flinch.Stone cracked. Dust rained from the ceiling. The blue mana whip dissolved from my grasp as my knees buckled, heat and cold tearing through my veins at once. The ring on my finger burned—not painfully, not yet—but with a warning pulse that made my vision blur at the edges.Scott stared at me like I’d just grown another head.“How did you do that?” he demanded, coughing as he spoke.I barely had the breath to roll my shoulder. “We went through basic spell forms and incantation structures in Spellcasting Theory. Did you ever pay attention?”He scoffed weakly. “Why would I learn something I’d never use? But—that’s not the issue.” His eyes narrowed. “You just used magic.”I lifted my hand before he could say anything else, letting the light catch the thin silver ring hugging my finger.“Master Veyron let me borrow it,” I said.Scott’s expression shifted instantly. “Wouldn’t those things kill you?”“Only if

Lyra POVThe mountain hadn’t stopped groaning since Death left. Low rumbles rolled through the stone like distant thunder trapped underground, as if the rock itself was trying to forget what had happened here. I couldn’t blame it.I sat slumped against a cracked pillar, legs splayed out in front of me like a broken doll. Every inch of me felt hollowed out. My veins were cold strings, my heart a sluggish drum that barely remembered how to beat. The borrowed ring on my finger had gone dark and cold hours ago. My mana almost drained. I hadn’t taken it off yet. I wasn’t sure I could lift my arm that high.Across the chamber, Scott lay on his back where he’d fallen. His chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven hitches. Blood had dried in dark streaks from the corner of his mouth down his neck, mixing with the dust that coated everything. The poison—benchedstone, was still working. I could smell it on him: sharp, metallic, like rust and ozone. His skin looked gray under the fractured blue lig

Julianna POVFour days.That was how long Lyra and Scott had been gone, and by the fourth morning, fear had stopped being loud. It settled instead—heavy, dull, and purple, like a bruise no one wanted to press.The academy felt wrong without them.People still trained. Bells still rang. But every corridor carried the same unspoken question: What if they don’t come back? No one said it out loud. Saying it felt like inviting it to be true.Lily hadn’t slept.I knew because she was still in the lower hall when the sun rose, chalk smudges on her hands, eyes rimmed red, strands of her hair slipping free from the tight braid she always wore when working magic. The floor beneath her was a web of glowing circles—layered, complex, carved so deeply into the stone that the runes pulsed even when she stepped away.“This one should work,” Lily said hoarsely, straightening. Her voice echoed through the hall, too loud in the quiet.Cameron leaned against a pillar, arms folded. “You said that about th

Chapter 137Julianna POVWhen I reached the iron gate—simple, black, no sign—I hesitated. This felt too private. Too raw.But I’d come this far. I pushed through.The plot was small. Six headstones in a loose semicircle, grass neatly kept, flowers replaced regularly even when no one was watching. Three names stood out: Seraphine Thane, Mara Thane, and Elowen Thane. Birth and death dates carved deep. The other three were older—grandparents, maybe an aunt. Quiet witnesses.Lily was there.She sat cross-legged in front of Mara’s stone, hands folded in her lap, eyes closed. Raindrops slid down her face; she didn’t wipe them away. Cameron and Caleb stood a few paces back, shoulders touching like they were holding each other up. Lila paced slowly along the edge, arms wrapped around herself. Kaid leaned against an oak, staring at nothing.No Scott.Lily opened her eyes when she heard my footsteps. F

Julianna POVThe walk back to the dorms felt longer than it should have. Rain had left the paths slick and reflective; every step echoed. Scott didn’t speak again after we left the burial ground. He just walked beside me—close enough that our arms brushed occasionally, far enough that I could still feel the distance he kept from everything and everyone.When we reached the suite, Lyra was waiting. She sat cross-legged on the common-room couch, a mug of something red and steaming in her hands. Her eyes flicked from me to Scott and back again. She didn’t ask questions. Just nodded once—like she already knew everything worth knowing.“Night, you two,” she said quietly. Then she stood, stretched, and disappeared into her room without another word.Scott lingered in the doorway of the room.“See you tomorrow,” he repeated.“Tomorrow,” I echoed.He closed the door softly.I