All Chapters of Pact of Blood : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

The heavy iron gate of the subterranean vault seemed to pulse with a dark, suffocating energy. Laura stood frozen on the stone landing, her hands clamped over her mouth to trap the choked gasp threatening to tear from her throat. Her eyes, wide with sheer disbelief, locked onto the horrifying scene below. Dave—the man she had trusted with her life, the warrior who had held her hand through every trial—stood amidst pools of fresh blood, his eyes burning with an unholy predator’s hunger as he harvested the life essence of the terrified villagers. The cold realization hit her with paralyzing force. Dave was not the noble protector she believed him to be. He was a monster wearing a familiar face, utilizing deception and brutal sacrifices behind a facade of honor. Panic surged through her veins, cold and sharp. A single misstep, a single heavy breath, and he would hear her. Moving with absolute, agonizing caution, Laura forced her trembling legs to back away from the threshold. She ret

​The air in the outer courtyard grew thick with a freezing, suffocating tension. Dave stood blocking the heavy iron gates, his amber eyes reflecting the cold moonlight with absolute calm. But that calm shattered the second Lorenzo stepped forward, placing himself squarely between Dave and Laura. ​"Step aside, Dave," Lorenzo commanded, his voice ringing with lethal authority as his silver blade cleared its scabbard with a sharp hiss of steel. "The game is over. You hold no power over us here." ​Dave did not flinch. Instead, a dangerous, dark edge crept into his posture. "You think you can just walk away from what has been built here, Lorenzo? You know nothing of the blood required to keep this realm alive." ​Without another word, Lorenzo lunged forward. His blade flashed in the dark, cutting through the heavy air with blistering speed aimed directly at Dave's shoulder. Dave moved with terrifying, unnatural quickness, sidestepping the strike by a fraction of an inch and counter

​The upper service gallery was a labyrinth of shadows, cold stone, and ancient dust. Laura moved swiftly through the narrow corridor, her boots clicking softly against the flagstones, while Lorenzo secured the perimeter a few paces ahead. The distant roars of combat echoed from the lower levels, a brutal reminder that the fortress was bleeding. Every muscle in Laura's body was coiled tight, her mind racing to process the chaos that had erupted around them. The man she had trusted, the man who had hidden unspeakable horrors in the dark vaults, was currently fighting alone down below to buy them time. It was a cruel, twisted paradox that she could neither accept nor erase from her memory. ​Suddenly, the stone wall to their left exploded inward with a deafening roar. ​A massive shockwave of dark arcane energy tore through the masonry, sending jagged shards of stone flying like deadly shrapnel. Before Laura could even draw breath, three towering figures clad in obsidian armor and ho

​The air inside the Central Throne Hall vibrated with a lethal, suffocating pressure. High above the polished marble floor, the commander of the First Masters raised his massive greatsword, channeling a torrential vortex of corrupted violet magic that hissed like dying embers. The dark surge coiled around the blade, swelling into a devastating sphere of destructive energy aimed squarely at Dave. ​Time seemed to fracture and slow to an agonizing crawl. ​From her position near the obsidian pillars, Laura saw the deadly arcane storm gathering. Without a fraction of a second given to hesitation, without a single thought for her own safety, her feet moved. She sprinted directly into the open expanse of the hall, her heart hammering against her ribs as she aimed to throw herself between Dave and the incoming cataclysmic strike. ​"Laura, no!" Dave roared, his amber eyes widening in stark, unadulterated terror as he struggled violently against the two elite shield-bearers pinning him

​The air inside the underground tunnel was thick, damp, and freezing. The heavy emergency stone door had slammed shut behind them with a final, echoing crash, cutting off the deafening roars of the crumbling. Throne Hall and the maddening laughter of Lord Cassian For several grueling minutes, the only sound that filled the pitch-black corridor was the ragged, desperate breathing of the three survivors as they stumbled deeper into the subterranean unknown. ​Dave led the way, his broadsword dimmed to a faint, pulsing golden glow that cast long, erratic shadows against the jagged stone walls. Behind him, Laura walked with measured steps, her hands still faintly humming with the lingering residue of dual-toned magic, while Lorenzo brought up the rear, his silver blade drawn and ready for any threat lurking in the blackness. ​After traversing a winding maze of descending rock-hewn steps, the tunnel finally opened up into a wider, natural cavern. The jagged ceiling arched high above th