La Guerrera Capitulo 67 Mga Nobela at Kwento

the captain said, his voice trembling. Closer now, the chanting rose, a wave of sound that shook the ground itself. “Guerrero Valanti! Guerrero Valanti! All hail Guerrero Valanti!” The cries echoed off walls and rooftops, reverberating through the city. The earth quaked beneath their feet. Lucia stepped back, clutching the railing. “Oh no… he survived,” she whispered. “This… this cannot be real.” She turned to her soldiers. “Arm yourselves! Prepare! He must not enter the gates!”

The grip on me loosened instantly, and I heard a pained curse as the man behind me stumbled back. Seizing the moment, I darted away from my captor, and Hunter quickly pulled me to his side, shielding me. Turning back, I saw the source of the disruption. Rhea, despite her own injuries, had managed to strike the captor with a bigger flower vase, her fiery eyes shining even as she clutched her side in pain.

The Guardian's arm bent the wrong way. The second soldier attacked immediately. Luca sidestepped. Grabbed the man's shoulder. Used his momentum against him. And slammed him headfirst into a tree. The impact sounded painful. Extremely painful. The third Guardian hesitated. Just for a second. Just long enough. Luca drove an elbow into his throat. The armored soldier collapsed instantly. Three Guardians. Less than ten seconds. Done. Yet Luca wasn't smiling. Wasn't relieved. Because something felt wrong. Very wrong.

Hunter’s eyes shifted from the gun to Guiller, his fists clenching at his sides. "I don’t have time to kill you right now—I’ve got bigger things to deal with. But if you still want to end it all, go ahead," Guiller said before turning and walking out with Antonio’s men. Hunter stood there, frozen, watching Guiller’s back as he disappeared through the door. “How’d it go?” Don Antonio asked when Guiller got into the car where the elder was waiting. “He’ll come around," Guiller said confidently. “Any updates on Lady Aleah?” he asked, shifting the conversation.

A new secret I hadn’t yet shared with Lucian. The timing couldn’t be worse. But hope was growing again—fragile and fierce—right in the middle of war. **End of Chapter 61** --- (Word count: 2,805) --- Ready for **Chapter 62: The Enemy’s Son** at ~2800 words? Let me know if you'd like any adjustments before we continue! 🔥 **Chapter 61: Old Friend, New Doubts**

At the corner of her eye, she saw Leni pointing on her direction and the Reapers and Badbloods dashed towards her. Then she turned back to Rila. Her sister was looking at her and she was smiling. Tears smeared down on her bloody cheeks. She mouthed the words in her lips. "I'm sorry. I love you." "Rila!" Serra called helplessly. Then Roque brought his ax down on her sister. "NOOOOOO!" She cried. Serra then burst into a golden flame. Heavenly fire burst out from her chest and her sword blazed on her hand. Then she was suspended in the air like the sun.

The only thing on Summers Hartley’s mind was revenge. Being a half-breed, she was born extremely weak and completely incapable of protecting herself or anyone, and that cost her. Her family was slaughtered, and her pack was reduced to ashes. As the Alpha heir to Silverguard pack, she swore to destroy the monsters responsible: the Bloodmoon pack. When the perfect chance for revenge arrives, she hides behind a new identity as the dying Alpha’s personal healer and enters the Bloodmoon pack. Every day she heals the pack, she has promised to destroy. Sworn to pay back the same hand, her mission is simple: poison the Alpha who murdered her people and, together with her uncle, destroy eve

All she felt was Alessio’s grip, Gabriel’s stare. Her heart broke and burned at once. She opened her mouth. “I choose—” A gunshot cracked, so close it deafened her. The capo standing beside Ferrero crumpled, blood spraying across the table. The shield of men faltered, chaos breaking their line. Gabriel surged forward, Alessio pulling Elena with him. The war swallowed the hall whole. ⸻

Another came swinging a machete; she met him with a bullet in the chest and a knife in the gut. The men hesitated. Some cursed her name La Reina de Sangre the Blood Queen. The title spread as fast This wasn’t survival anymore. This was war. Across the chaos, she saw Raffaele. Standing tall atop the catwalk, his grin sharp as a wolf’s. He raised a hand, directing his soldiers like an orchestra of death. And then her gaze snapped left. El Cuervo himself strode through the haze, his raven tattoos catching the flicker of gunfire, a machete in one hand, pistol in the other. His men followed like shadows, cutting down Romano soldiers with ruthless precision.

“You don’t understand. The Labyrinth—” “I understand enough,” Rivera snapped, her tone cutting steel. “We’ve seen Athens. We’ve seen the fires. You think you’re running toward salvation? You’re walking into a myth-induced death trap.” Dr. Voss edged forward, raising her voice to cut through the soldiers’ tense silence. “And your plan is what? Kill the Guardian? Cage the only creature tied to stopping the Chimera?” The soldiers shifted at the word Guardian. Rivera’s gaze locked with Cerebus — truly seeing him now. All three heads stared back. Not savage. Not wild. Something older. Something resolute.