Sihtric Last Kingdom の小説・ストーリー

I am dwarfed by her sheer size and I am uncertain how to address the imposingly statuesque creature before me while her eyes find mine. “we are one, none dominant of the other, we are the same, we are Ulfhild.” She speaks in a deep, low transcendental voice. ** Sullivan Clan HQ ** “Can you explain to me why I’m hearing the wail of one of those monstrosities!?” Chief Marcus bellows. “I thought I gave you an order. Zap the vermin, make them yield, I wont tell you again! Violent winds rage outside, although the rain and thunder seems to have stopped, it still feels turbulent and this damn lunar eclipse makes it hard to see where I’m going.

In a mere second I see the vision of two werewolves jumping on me and Edward from our backs. “Edward, they are gonna attack from behind”, I warn him in our mind chain immediately. In next minute we hear the footsteps of the hairy beasts and we know that its them. “Leo!, Edward!”, my sister exclaims in horror seeing the sudden attack. In a blink of an eye I turn around and lunge on the beast with my hands gripping its thick neck. It tries to claw my back but it was too late as I snapped its neck in a second. “you should have thought twice before lunging on the world’s strongest vampire king”, I tell smirking at his dead body.

she explained with a pretentious cry. “Traitor’s daughter? What are you rumbling about?” The king demanded. “My name is Sierra and I’m the only daughter of late Hendrix, the late Alpha’s Beta” Sierra said with a scheming look. Everyone stepped back and the king sat up with shock evident on his face. “Did you say the Beta?” The king said and Sierra nodded. Bursting into a loud laugh, the king stood up from his seat and took giant steps towards Sierra on the floor. He crouch down to her level and raised her chin with just two of his large fingers.

The desolate expanse of the Icelands seemed to respond to his words, as if the very land itself trembled in acknowledgment of the gravity of his command. Sia, standing amidst the harrowing aftermath of a lycan's rampage, turned to face his sovereign, his heart heavy with dread. "Dead, my king?" His voice quivered, echoing the uncertainty that had gripped his people in the wake of this calamity. The king's gaze remained unyielding; his imposing figure silhouetted against the ghostly backdrop of moonlit snow. "Aye, Sia. She has been nothing but a harbinger of darkness, and this calamity only solidifies her fate."

It took Alpha Kellan more than a minute to give Beta Tobias an answer. Silence filled the space between them. I wondered what they were discussing at this ungodly hour. Everywhere was quiet already and their words carried easily. Curiosity made me remain where I was. I might be able to help if I knew what the problem was. Helping would be a way to make myself useful. “I killed Liora and I still have not caught the rogues responsible for her death. You seem to have forgotten that,” Alpha Kellan eventually broke the silence. I figured out that the whole conversation was about his late wife, thanks to the statement he had just made. I would say that I was jealous of Liora. He really loved her.

But rather than asking her those questions, I answered her. With a smirk plastered on my face, I stated, “Of course, Elder Nidhi. I know about him, he was the last Lycan King to rule the werewolf kind. But thanks to his infidelity with a witch who put him under a love spell, the kingdom fell and all the Lycans were eliminated from the face of the earth.” Seeing my bitter expression, the witch smiled a bit and started telling me things that I had no idea about.

That was apparently passed down to us, their heirs. The last kingdom belongs to the Lycans, ruled by a powerful Lycan king, a man feared and revered by all. His lands stretch several miles across the borders. We were not enemies, we were not friends either, but even I know that I am no match for him. Regardless of that, I would still confront him if I found out he was in possession of something of mine.

The end of the world smelled of sulfur and crushed violets. Princess Saoirse, the last true blood of the Dragon Kings, stood before the cracked vanity mirror in the servant’s quarters. Her hands trembled violently as she destroyed her birthright. The paste—a foul mixture of river mud, crushed walnut shells, and soot—felt cold and slimy against her scalp. Outside, the sky was bleeding. The Dragon Kingdom of Aethelgard, a realm of glass spires and singing winds, was dying. It wasn't dying quietly. It was screaming under the iron treads of the Empire’s war machines.