The Necromantress and the Blood Princess のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 21 - チャプター 30

Chapter 22: The Letter and the LeavingElias stands beneath the pines, Raven’s frail weight already transferred to the arms of the lead Valrosian agent. The woman’s ruby eyes meet his for a long moment—assessing, not unkind. She cradles the child carefully, one hand supporting the back of Raven’s head so it doesn’t loll too far. The girl’s breathing is thin, ragged; her swollen face presses against the dark cloak like a broken bird seeking shelter.He reaches into the inner pocket of his tunic with trembling fingers. Pulls out a folded scrap of parchment—creased from days of carrying it close to his heart. The ink is smudged in places from sweat and tears, but the words are still legible.He extends it toward the agent.“For her,” he rasps. “When she’s safe. When she can read again. Not before.”The agent takes the letter without question. Her gloved fingers close around it gently, as though it carries more weight than the child in her arms. She tucks it inside her cloak—next to her h

Chapter 24: The King’s Border PlansThe war council chamber lay deep within Castle Valros—below the throne room, behind three sets of rune-etched obsidian doors that only opened to royal blood. The air here was colder, heavier, scented with old iron and incense burned to mask the faint copper tang that always lingered in vampire strongholds. A long table of polished black granite dominated the center, its surface inlaid with a living map of the eastern borderlands: rivers of liquid shadow, mountains carved from amethyst, the demonkin frontier marked in pulsing crimson veins that shifted slowly, as though breathing.King Alaric stood at the head, hands braced on the table’s edge. His black-and-silver robes fell like spilled night around him; the thorn crown rested lightly on his brow, rubies catching the violet light from floating orbs above. Victoria stood to his right—armor traded for a high-collared gown of deep burgundy, auburn hair braided with obsidian beads. Raven stood to Victo

Chapter 26: The Uproar in Arcadia PrimeWord of King Alaric’s edict reached Arcadia Prime like wildfire through dry summer grass—first carried by shadow-couriers slipping past border wards, then shouted in market squares, whispered in taverns, nailed to every church door and garrison wall in crimson ink that bled into the parchment.**RAVEN WINTERSTAR – DECLARED PRINCESS CONSORT OF VALROS** **ANY HARM TO HER IS AN ACT OF WAR AGAINST VALROS** **BY ORDER OF KING ALARIC**The wanted posters—still clinging to stone in every major settlement—suddenly looked childish beside the new decree. A nine-year-old girl, once hunted for necromancy, now shielded by the full military might of a neighboring kingdom that had never bent knee to Arcadia’s Church or crown.The uproar began quietly.In the shattered halls of the old High Temple—where priests still argued over pyre doctrine—senior clerics read the scroll in stunned silence. Bishop Veyra, the same woman who had once signed Raven’s death wa

Chapter 28: The Hell RiftThe first tremor came at dawn—low, rolling, like the earth itself had drawn a ragged breath and held it. Alarms rang through Castle Valros before the sun cleared the horizon: deep bronze gongs struck in rapid succession, vibrations Raven felt in her bones long before servants burst into the tower room.Victoria was already on her feet—ruby eyes sharp, nightdress traded for armor in seconds. Raven sat up, heart hammering, and reached for the black tome she had finished only the night before. She slid it into her father’s old leather satchel—now worn soft from travel—alongside dried rations, a waterskin, and the small dagger Victoria had given her weeks ago. The satchel thumped against her hip as she laced her boots.They met King Alaric in the war room beneath the castle. The living map on the granite table had changed overnight: a jagged tear of molten crimson split the eastern border near the Widow’s Veil, pulsing like an open wound. Hell rift. The words hun

Chapter 30: The Closing GateThe hell-beast fell with a sound like mountains breaking.Raven’s final command—*End it*—had woven through every thrall on the field. The risen fiends, the reanimated knights, the war-hounds that had once torn Valrosian throats—all turned as one. They swarmed the towering horror in a tide of violet light and black smoke. Claws met bone armor. Blades sank into molten veins. The beast roared once more, a sound that cracked stone and made the rift itself flicker—then it collapsed, knees buckling, wings folding like shattered sails. The last of its summoned spawn died with it.Silence followed. Not the clean silence of victory, but the heavy, ringing aftermath of slaughter.Raven’s vision swam. She clung to Victoria’s waist, breathing hard through the slits in her helm. The cold place inside her was still roaring—too much power pulled too fast—but she forced it down, thread by thread, until the violet glow in her thralls’ eyes dimmed to nothing. One by one the