YEXA ROSE: SHE DEVIL (ENGLISH)

Chapter 1: Warrior’s Oath “Yexa Rose, from this moment forward, you are officially declared the top Warrior of the Conclave. You are now bound by duty to aid us in vanquishing the darkness that plagues the earth. By accepting this Sword of Truth, you vow to dedicate your life to the Conclave, upholding its laws and obeying its orders without question.” With unwavering resolve, I accepted the Sword of Truth. “By the grace of Heaven, I wholeheartedly accept my duty, Honchos.” I bowed my head respectfully as I spoke. The moment my hands wrapped around the sword, it glowed, radiating a light that signified the truth in my words. “The sword has spoken. You, Yexa Rose—daughter of Britton McDamon and Nym Rose—are one of the Moonchasers. Conquerors, protectors, and enforcers of balance in this world. Rise and take pride in your role, Warrior.” I straightened, then saluted the Honchos before facing the crowd gathered to witness my initiation as a full-fledged Conclave Warrior. Tears welled in my eyes as I met my father’s gaze. He was clapping, his expression one of satisfaction—proud, but not of me. No, he was proud of himself. Still, I felt a flicker of joy. The path to this moment had been anything but easy. Blood, sweat, and sheer determination had driven me to endure the grueling training in Vyllak. Even at home, my father spent no time refining my skills, pushing me beyond my limits. A single mistake could mean death. “Take this ring—it is your weapon. The moment you wear it, you will discover the weapon best suited to you.” An acolyte handed me a black metal ring. Slipping it onto my left finger, I gasped as a sharp pain, like the stab of a dagger, shot through me. But it lasted only for a moment. Before my eyes, the ring transformed, its form shifting like a living thing. Dark veins wrapped around my middle finger, extending up to my wrist. A whip! I realized instantly. As if responding to my thoughts, my weapon fell to the ground with a heavy thud. Gasps filled the air. It wasn’t just any whip—it was a long, thorn-covered vine, its end adorned with a stunning, blood-red rose. Beautiful yet deadly. At first glance, one might mistake it for an ornament rather than a weapon capable of destruction. “The form of your weapon will change according to your will,” the Honchos declared. “Its strength and lethality will reflect your power. But heed my warning—excessive use of power benefits no one, least of all yourself.” I nodded in understanding, studying my weapon with fascination. Never had I seen another Moonchaser wield a weapon like this. The ring had always granted warriors bows, swords, or knives—never like mine. The weapon shifted again, its original form returning, though no longer just a simple black ring. Instead, it had transformed into a delicate red rose resting on my middle finger, its stem curling around my wrist like an elegant bracelet. Impressive! I marveled, raising my hand to admire the crimson bloom. Strange and magnificent. The ring given to me by the Conclave was no ordinary artifact; it pulsed with immense power. “Congratulations, Yexa Rose. From this day forward, you are officially the Head of the Moonchasers!” the Honchos announced. Applause erupted around me as the gathered warriors bore witness to my ascension. I turned to them and bowed in gratitude. If ordinary people celebrated such honors, relishing the recognition of esteemed leaders, I could not share their joy. Not entirely. --- AFTER THE CEREMONY, my father wasted no time, leading me straight to Verbeck Institute to oversee the capture of a powerful rogue who had violated Conclave law. “This is your first mission as Head of the Moonchasers. Bring that wretch back alive. Don’t disgrace me, Yexa,” my father commanded as we stepped into the elevator. “Yes, Sire,” I replied, my voice devoid of emotion. For eighteen years, Britton McDamon had drilled it into me—never to call him ‘Father’ in public. He had trained me to suppress my emotions, never to let sentiment weaken me. As a result, I had grown up with no friends to call my own. “Feelings will be your downfall, Yexa. Emotions make you weak, and the weak are ridiculed. Remember my words—the moment you give in to your emotions, you seal your own fate.” My father’s lesson echoed in my mind. The elevator chimed, signaling our arrival. As my father had taught me, I schooled my features into a mask of indifference. Inside the vast room, five figures stood around a long table, their faces devoid of expression as they turned to us. “Britton McDamon! You finally grace us with your presence,” drawled a man seated at the far end of the table, his smirk mocking. “Shame, though. You’re only here to escort your precious daughter before disappearing again.” I felt the sharp spike of anger in my father’s aura. A sidelong glance confirmed it. His expression had darkened for just a second before he quickly masked it with pride. “Yes! Finally, I have succeeded. My daughter has risen to become Head of the Moonchasers. Do you know what that means? It means I no longer need to remain here. I can return to Vyllak and train new cadets.” The tension between them was palpable, their gazes locked in silent challenge, as if daring one another to strike first. Then, in the blink of an eye, something small and fast flew toward my father—a dagger. Instinct took over me. I moved without thought, snatching the thin blade out of the air just before it reached Britton’s forehead. Pain flared in my palm as the blade cut me, its poison sinking into my skin. If it had struck my father, the venom would have killed him instantly. But not me. I had long been immune to any poison. Without hesitation, I crushed the dagger in my fist, my gaze sharp and unyielding, sweeping the room. Silence fell as everyone processed what had just happened. Even my father looked momentarily stunned. My eyes landed on a butterfly perched delicately on a nearby flower. “Don’t make me come to you,” I said, my voice low, dangerous. “Because if I do, you’ll be the first to feel the bite of my whip.” The butterfly trembled just slightly, but I knew it had heard me. Then, a soft chuckle filled the air. A moment later, the butterfly’s form shimmered and shifted—until a fairy stood in its place.