Rise of the Forbidden Luna

Chapter 40: The Anchor of Death

The iron gates of the Royal Palace slammed shut with a heavy, deafening clang that echoed through the stone courtyard like a funeral knell.

I stepped out of the truck, my boots hitting the wet cobblestones as the freezing rain washed the phantom ash and dark mud from my clothes. All around us, the courtyard was a scene of pure devastation. The proud, invincible vanguard that had marched out ten thousand strong was completely broken. The medical team were frantic, screaming orders as stretcher after stretcher was hauled from the trucks. I watched with a bleeding heart as the cold, hard numbers settled into the ledger. Out of the ten thousand elite Lycan soldiers who had marched into the Forbidden Mountains, only six thousand had made it back alive, and almost every single one of them had critical injuries.

Ethan stepped out of the lead vehicle, his towering frame casting a long, dark shadow across the pavement. He didn't look at me. His posture rigid with the heavy weight of a monarch who had just watched half his men get slaughtered in the battle.

"Ethan... please," I whispered desperately, running up behind him as he marched toward the grand palace entrance, my hands trembling. "we need to talk. I need you to understand why I kept the quadruplets a secret..."

"Not now, Aria," Ethan interrupted, his deep voice sounded bone-chilling. He didn't turn around to face me. He just stopped walking for a fraction of a second, his massive shoulders tense. "Four thousand of my men are dead and some of my men receiving care in the infirmary have one leg in at death's door. The pregnancy... we will discuss that later. Right now, I have a kingdom to protect. By dusk, Richard and his undead army will be at our front gates."

With those crushing words, he strode directly into the palace, leaving me standing entirely frozen in the rain.

Ten minutes later, the air inside the dining hall was thick with Omegas, Betas, and Commanders discussing tactical plans on how to defeat Richard and his undead army. Ethan sat at the head of the massive mahogany table, his large hands anchoring tightly onto an unfolded leather map of our border defenses. Beta Thomas stood right beside him, his armor cracked and stained with dried blood as Ethan called him into the space to discuss their options. I sat quietly at the far corner of the table, my hand instinctively resting over my stomach where the four tiny royal heartbeats were.

"Give me the boundary status, Thomas," Ethan growled, his gold-flecked eyes drilling into the map. "How long until the outer perimeter falls?"

"The local sentinel towers are already reporting thick green smoke bleeding across the lower valley, My Lord," Thomas replied hoarsely, his voice cracking from raw exhaustion.

"Richard’s legions don't tire, they don't stop to rest, and the mountain terrain doesn't slow them down. They will breach our outer wall by the time the sun sets. And the truth is... we have absolutely no way to defeat them."

Ethan slammed his fist onto the mahogany wood, making the silver chalices rattle violently. "There is always a way. We know our swords kills them when coated in blood!"

"With all due respect, sire, it is completely unfeasible," Thomas countered desperately, shaking his head. "The undead army is in the tens of thousands. To get enough blood to coat the blades of our warriors is impossible. The soldiers would have to literally bleed themselves dry on the front lines before the battle even begins. We would be an army of dead men before the undead army even crosses the mountains."

The logic was airtight, and the realization hit the room like a physical blow. We were completely out of options, trapped inside our own fortress waiting for an infinite army of undead warriors to tear our throats out.

Suddenly, the heavy oak doors of the dining hall slowly creaked open.

My Dad walked into the room. His frame was still lean from the torture he had survived in Richard's dungeons, but his eyes were sharp and filled with a strange, intense focus as he listened to the grim military conversation. He walked straight toward the table, resting his palms against the wood.

"Aria briefed me about everything that happened in the Forbidden Mountains before I walked into this council," Marcus said, his deep voice drawing the immediate attention of both Ethan and Thomas. He leaned forward, his gaze cutting straight through the heavy panic in the room. "You are wasting your energy trying to figure out how to slaughter the thousands of undead army, King Ethan. There is only one way to defeat that undead army–you must kill the witch."

Ethan’s brow furrowed heavily, his amber eyes narrowing. "Explain yourself, Marcus."

"The presence of that undead army in this mortal realm is entirely unnatural," my father explained, his expression deathly serious. "Their existence here is tied directly to the witch's life force. She is the living anchor holding the veil open with the Eye of Aethelgard. If you kill her the spell instantly shatters, and the entire undead army will instantly disappear from this realm like smoke."

A heavy silence descended upon the dining room. Thomas let out a tense breath, but Ethan remained skeptical, his jaw tight.

Killing her will be close to impossible," Ethan growled softly, shaking his head as he stared at the map. "She is an ancient, powerful sorceress.

Her magic tore the very mountain bedrock apart today. We cannot just march up to her altar and drive a blade through her heart; she will vaporize my men before they get within fifty yards."

"You are right," Marcus nodded, his voice dropping into a dark, low whisper as he leaned closer to the center of the mahogany table. "Normal steel and Lycan strength cannot pierce her defensive shields. But there is a way to bypass her sorcery. I cannot guide your blade myself, but I know someone who can tell you exactly how to kill her. A seer who knows the witch's true, weakness."

Ethan shifted his weight, his entire posture locking onto my father's face. "Who is it? Where do we find the seer you speak of?"

"The seer you seek" Marcus looked toward the glass windows as the dark evening clouds began to gather over the pack borders, "lives in Blackridge Valley, he's the only person who holds the key to her death.