"He's recovering fast. You did a good job, son."
The werewolf spoke with quiet pride, his wolf ears twitching slightly as he looked at Alpha. "You're a good friend."
Alpha had barely begun to register the compliment when a sudden howl tore through the corridors.
It came from the direction of the stone room.
Alpha and his father exchanged a sharp glance.
Without another word, they sprinted down the passage, guards close behind.
They burst through the door.
Inside, a wolf was backed against the wall, fur bristling in terror.
And at the center of the room sat a confused Victor, daggers half-raised, eyes searching for answers.
Victor looked up.
And there it was.
The answer to every question he had been asking himself.
After Alpha had fled with Ace, he had alerted the Pack.
They had gone out together to search.
What they found was a field of death—every creature within five miles drained of life.
And at the center of it all, an unconscious Vampire.
They had brought him here, treated him, and saved him.
"Thank you… for helping me," Victor said quietly.
Alpha shook his head. "You fought them alone. We only treated your wounds. That's all."
"You still need rest," Alpha added gently. "You're not fully healed."
The guards were dismissed by the man with wolf ears who then stepped forward.
"Victor of the Southeast Coven," he said, bowing his head slightly. "I am Chief Okupha of the Captain Pack. Alpha's father."
He smiled—warm, disarmingly so.
"Our wolves fear Vampires," he continued cheerfully. "So please… handle them with care."
And with that, he turned and left.
The wolf assigned to guard Victor followed after him.
The door closed.
Silence returned.
"What about Ace?" Victor asked softly.
"He's stable," Alpha replied. "He'll wake soon." A pause. "It's because of you. If not for you… neither of us would have made it."
Victor said nothing.
But Alpha saw it.
The sorrow bleeding through the cracks of his calm.
"I… wish to be alone," Victor said at last.
Alpha hesitated.
"Alright. I'll check on you later." He reached the door, then stopped. "If you need anything… don't hesitate to ask."
Then he left.
The moment the door closed, the mask broke.
Victor's rare tears welled.
He drew his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, burying his face as silent sobs shook his body.
And the memories came.
"Red, stay behind me."
"Move to the boulder—I'll cover you."
"Remember your training. Now's the time."
"Red! Stay close to me at all times!"
"Red—go… this is as far as I go…"
"Leave everyone. Leave everything. Survive."
"Make sure… you survi—"
His brother had always called him Red.
He had taken their parents' place to visit the academy.
He was Victor's trainer, guardian, and anchor.
Of all his siblings, he was the one Victor loved most.
And the one who loved him most in return.
But now, he had embarked on a journey he would never return from.
Victor pressed his forehead to his knees.
And cried for the first time in years.
Outside, Alpha stood alone beneath the open sky.
Of all of them, he was the only one who had not lost a loved one in the war.
His parents had never come to the academy.
When news of the catastrophe spread, they had panicked like every other family. But they had not come searching.
Because from the moment Alpha was born, his life had been bound to the Tablet of Light.
His emotions fed it, his existence sustained it.
If he died, the Tablet would shatter.
When his parents saw the Tablet whole and still glowing, they understood that their son was alive.
And safe.
But knowing his parents were well did not ease the weight in Alpha's chest.
If anything, it made it worse.
He thought of Ramien—who had lost his entire family in a single night.
He thought of Ace, still unconscious, spared the truth for now. When he woke, grief would find him too.
And he thought of Victor.
Unlike Damien, Victor had always kept his distance from emotion. He built walls, sharpened himself into something untouchable.
Yet now he sat alone, broken in silence, unwilling to let anyone witness his collapse.
Alpha clenched his fists.
This was what hurt the most.
That he could do nothing.
And worse—
That he believed it was his fault.
If he had listened to Damien instead of his heart…
There would have been no Xyldrak.
No war, no graves, no shattered lives.
He lifted his gaze toward the distant mountains.
Nothing in his life could had prepared him for what was currently happening at Blackspire's assembly ground.
Nearly a hundred undead stood in a silent circle, watching another body rise.
Blue light faded slowly.
And in its place stood a breathing, hollow-eyed figure.
Ramien swayed on his feet.
Exhaustion weighed on every breath.
He believed—no, he knew—this catastrophe was his doing.
If he had told Damien to seal the dragon earlier…
There would have been no war, no graves, no dead to raise.
Because of that, he was determined to bring back as many as he could.
Even if it broke him.
The next was meant to be Reinna.
Damien stepped forward and placed one of her belongings into Ramien's trembling hands.
And in the next instant—
Blue-grey fire erupted.
The object burned to ash before it could even touch the light.
"No!" Ramien cried, fury tearing through his exhaustion. "Why did you do that?!"
Xyldrak's voice echoed through the Soul Sea, calm and unyielding.
"I will not allow you to turn her into an undead servant, Master. You have no idea how valuable she still is to you."
Ramien let out a broken laugh.
"After being silent for so long," he said hoarsely, "this is when you speak?"
He clenched his fists, ash slipping through his fingers.
"You destroyed my only chance to make things right for her," he whispered. Then his voice shattered. "Why?!"
Tears streamed down his face.
"Because of you," Ramien continued, voice raw, "I've lost everyone."
His shoulders shook.
"Why were you even born?"
"Master—" Xyldrak began.
"Enough!" Ramien screamed.
Silence fell.
His next words came quietly.
"I hate you."
The Soul Sea went still.
"If I could sever our bond myself," he said, voice trembling with hatred and grief, "I wouldn't hesitate."
"I don't care if it costs me half my life."
His eyes burned with tears.
"I hate you."
And for the first time since the war began, Ramien let himself collapse into his grief.
Before dawn, when the sky was still asleep—black as ink—Victor finally lifted his head.
The false black in his eyes faded.
Red surfaced.
Not anger, not madness.
Just the color of what he was.
His face held no emotion as he stared at the stone door.
He had lost his brother.
But not his memories.
Only when you can survive can you save others.
His brother had said that once, during training.
Victor had lived by it ever since.
That was how he had brought Ace and Alpha this far.
But there was still one person he had to find.
One person he could not afford to lose.
Ramien.
He moved quietly through the sleeping camp, footsteps soundless against stone and dirt.
At the outer barrier, four guards blocked his path.
He kept his head lowered.
"Stop," one of them ordered. "Who are you, and where do you think you're going at this hour?"
"I am Victor," he said calmly. "A friend of Chief Okupha's son. I'm returning to my homeland."
"At this time of night?" another guard said sharply. "Lift your head. Look at us."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
Victor hesitated, then spoke low.
"I've lost too much blood. I'm not in control of myself right now."
Their hands moved to their weapons.
"For your own safety," he added quietly, "step aside."
They took that as a threat.
Steel flashed.
Victor reacted—
Then a white stream of light cut between them.
The guards froze.
"Victor."
Alpha stood there, breath unsteady, hand raised.
"It's me."
Victor turned his face away at once.
"I was trying to leave," he said simply. "They wouldn't listen."
"It's fine," Alpha said, then turned to the guards. "Open the barrier."
Reluctantly, the magic parted.
Victor didn't look back.
He vanished between the trees, moving faster and farther with every step.
"Be careful," Alpha whispered to the dark.
And then he was gone.