Page 85 of Lord of the Lone Wolf
Kingship had never weighed heavier on Kitsuki.
Chapter 30
Maseo
Standing at the front lines of the Valzerna army, Maseo felt the crisp morning air against his face as he stared at the gates of Norello Castle. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, his fingers tracing the familiar leather wrapping. Soldiers shifted around him, their armor glinting in the weak sunlight that pierced through the cloud cover.
The fortress loomed before them, its obsidian walls pulsing with runes. Maseo had never wanted to step foot in his homeland again after escaping his father’s cruelty. Yet he stood ready to storm the very fortress that had been his prison for most of his life.
“Steady,” Bitris murmured beside him, the dragon shifter’s presence a reassuring anchor amid the tension of the impending battle.
Maseo nodded, not trusting his voice. His gaze swept over the ramparts, where archers had their bows at the ready. He recognized some of their faces, men who had once sneered at him and looked the other way when his father’s punishments left him broken and bleeding on the training grounds.
“They’re opening the gates,” Jaega called out, his voice carrying across the assembled troops.
The massive wooden doors groaned as they swung outward, revealing the courtyard beyond. Maseo tightened his grip on his sword, drawing it as the first of his father’s forces emerged from the castle.
Wolf shifters poured through, their eyes filled with bloodlust and teeth bared in savage grins. Maseo had prepared himself to face the warriors who had once been his father’s loyal servants. What he hadn’t expected were the figures that followed.
His breath caught in his throat as skeletal forms surged forward, their bones gleaming an unnatural white in the morning light. Green orbs burned where their hearts should have been. Empty eye sockets burned with the same color fire. Rusted armor hung from their frames, ancient breastplates and pauldrons from wars long forgotten adorning the walking dead.
“Powers above,” Bitris whispered. “The lichen are real.”
They moved with unnatural grace, their bones clicking and scraping against each other as they advanced. They carried rusted swords and axes that looked as ancient as the skeletons, with the metal pitted and scarred from battles fought centuries ago.
“Remember your training,” Kitsuki’s voice rang out, clear and commanding. The dragon king stood tall, his silver-blue armor gleaming in the sunlight, his expression fierce as he addressed his troops. “Sever the soul to release it back to the Beyond Realm. Do not waste energy breaking the bones. For Valzerna!”
“For Valzerna,” the army echoed, their voices merging into a thunderous roar that shook the very ground beneath their feet.
Then, the world erupted into chaos.
The two armies collided with a clash of steel against steel. Maseo faced off against a wolf shifter, a burly man bearing a jagged scar across his cheek.
“Traitor,” the man spat, swinging his axe in a wide arc.
The axe descended toward Maseo’s head with deadly force. His ring flared with silver light, and a protective barrier materialized between him and the weapon. The strike bounced off, the sudden resistance throwing the wolf shifter off balance.
Maseo seized the opportunity and drove his sword deep into the man’s exposed side. The wolf howled in pain but didn’t fall; his enhanced blood granted him resilience beyond that of a normal human.
“I was never one of you,” Maseo snarled, twisting his blade before yanking it free.
The wolf shifter staggered, blood soaking through his armor, but he raised his axe for another strike. Again, the ring’s barrier flared to life, deflecting the blow. Maseo countered with a swift slash to the man’s throat, ending the fight in a spray of crimson.
As the shifter’s body crumpled to the ground, Maseo caught sight of a lichen advancing through the chaos. The human skeleton wore remnants of ancient armor, a dented breastplate and a pauldron clinging to its frame. A rusted sword with a broken tip extended from its bony hand as it moved with an unnatural, jerky gait.
Maseo readied himself, confidence surging through him. With Kitsuki’s ring protecting him, he could focus on offense ratherthan defense. The lichen’s rusted blade whistled through the air as it swung for Maseo’s head.
When the barrier didn’t activate, Maseo barely managed to dodge in time to avoid the blow.
The skeleton’s hand shot out with unnatural speed, fingers curled into bony claws aimed at his throat. The bones scratched against his flesh. Maseo staggered back, shock momentarily overriding his training.
But ring or no ring, he knew how to fight.
Maseo feinted left, then struck right, his blade connecting with the lichen’s sword arm. Bones shattered under the impact, fragments scattering across the ground. But the broken pieces trembled, then rose into the air, drawn back to the skeleton by an invisible force. They reassembled, bone knitting together until the arm was whole once more.
The lichen didn’t pause in its attack. When Maseo managed to disarm it, the skeleton’s other hand closed around Maseo’s wrist. His sword slipped from his grasp, clattering to the ground as the necromantic energy sapped his strength.
A flash of steel intercepted the attack, slicing through the skeleton’s arm at the elbow. The severed bones fell away, freeing Maseo from their grip.
