Chapter Eighty Nine

Book:The Blood King's bride Published:2025-2-8

Elena’s world shattered into pieces. Everything she had ever believed, everything that she
had thought was true, and her whole world was built on lies.
“Oh, I see that my story touched you. That’s good. Well it’s too bad though, I’ll not be
able to hear your take on it. You have to die.”
Elena lay there, not aware of her surroundings anymore. Even after Slovic struck her,
causing her to fly several meters away, she still didn’t care. Her whole world had just been turned
upside down. She landed with a heavy thud against the corpses of soldiers who had been killed.
Something in her must-have ruptured because she started choking out blood. Her head was
bleeding, the blood flowing to her face and blocking her eyesight. She tried getting up, but she
couldn’t move her limbs. She planted her elbows steady on the ground, trying to balance herself,
yet they gave out, causing her to lie back down.
Slovic appeared before her, tsking. “You are not as strong as I thought you were.” He
said, shaking his head. “Was that all a show you put on earlier? Or did my story have such a
powerful impact on you, enough to cause you to lose your will to fight? This is one of the
reason’s women should never be allowed to fight. You all are emotional, and would surely cause
the downfall of your kingdom.” He paused, looking at her.
“You are weak, very weak. Perhaps I should do you a favour and end you now. You are
not worth my time any longer.” He tried to raise his hand to attack her, but a blast blew him out
of the field. Elena noticed her husband’s face hovering over her a few seconds later.
“Darling,” he called out, his heart tearing as he took in her appearance. His anger slowly
built up, and he stood up straight, running towards where he had blasted Slovic. He felt the blood
in him rush his veins, the urge to kill building higher than before. Slovic had already risen and
was about to carry out an attack. Still, before he could summon his powers, Calhoun had fired
another blast at him.
Slovic stood up again, this time coughing out blood. He smiled as he looked at Calhoun,
wiping it away on his sleeve.
“Just what is your relationship with this woman? Why does she make you act this way?”
Calhoun’s eyes were slowly turning crimson. “You would die a very painful death. I swear on my
ancestors, your blood would run not as an offering to them-that would be an insult-but as a
snack. They will feast on you like one drinks cheap wine.”
Slovic laughed. “Well, I hate to break it to you, but that will not happen. Immediately, he
summoned a sharp wind towards Calhoun that was sure to send him flying away several feet and
cause him severe damage in the process. Unfortunately for him, that wasn’t what happened. With
a single swipe of his sword, Calhoun deflected the wind, causing it to go in different directions.
Slovic stood still, shocked at what had just taken place. “How? H-How?” he stammered.
Calhoun began to run towards him, not willing to allow him any means of escape.
Slovic immediately started to fire out different strings of attack. He sent out wind, dust
and blue flames. Yet, Calhoun deflected it all quickly, coming closer to Slovic enough to give
him another blow, which caused him to fly several yards away.
Calhoun continued his onslaught, leaving no room for leeway. Whenever Slovic stood,
Calhoun quickly sent him another strike. If he used his powers, Calhoun quickly deflected it and
attacked again. One could see that Calhoun clearly had the upper hand. Yet, instead of finishing
off his opponent, he simply opted for sending him flying in the air and causing him to land
heavily on the floor repeatedly.
To Calhoun, he was avenging his wife, using the same moves Slovic had used on her. He
had watched his wife fly several feet over, and he was going to pay back with the same actions,
repeated ten times over. That was his queen. Anyone who treats her wrongly had to answer to
him.
While Calhoun and Slovic fought, Elena remained where she lay, thinking of what she
had been told. The fight between the opposing armies happened some yards from her, causing
where she was to be a little bit safe for that moment. All those while, she had thought that her
father was a horrible man, who hated the only woman who had loved him till death. All these
times, he hadn’t been in control of his mind. He truly loved his wife, but he had been controlled
to use his own hands to kill her and to cause his daughter to run away, dedicating her life to
having her revenge against him. She’d always wondered why her mother stayed with her father
despite his mistreatment of her. Still, now she saw why: her mother had suspected something
was wrong with him. Perhaps she had remained, trying to look for a way to help her husband out
of it. She gave up her life, hoping that the man she truly loved would come back to his senses
one day. She endured all the name-calling and insults because she knew-no matter how much it
hurt her-that the person who spoke wasn’t her husband. She couldn’t decide which was more
pitiful: her father, who had to murder his lover while under the control of another, or her mother,
who perished at the hands of the man she loved. Her mother had to have known at some point
that she would be attacked, yet she remained, willing to shoulder everything in hopes that one
day her husband would come back to her.
At least now she knew the truth; her mother wasn’t killed by her husband. He was killed
by the Alliance.
She felt the anger that she had for her father fade away and merge into the anger slowly
rising up in her. Her power gradually began to increase, her strength returning rapidly. She
placed her elbows beside her again for balance, tapping into the anger that boiled in her. She
slowly hefted herself up into a sitting position. Trying to catch her breath, she slowly wiped
away the blood on her face, removing the ones that left her partially blind. Taking another deep
breath, she slowly began to rise.
‘The Alliance killed her parents’ rang several times in her head, causing her to be even
angrier. Her mother had been unjustly killed by some white garbed idiots, who used her father’s
hand to carry out the action and went out of their way to brag about it.
She would kill them. She would kill them all.
Depending on her anger, she began to move, looking for Slovic. She would start with him
first. He would take the brunt of all the pent-up anger in her.
She stood up fully on both feet and watched the fight between her husband and her
enemy. She ran towards them, towards Slovic, with her sword raised, screaming in anger. She
struck him while he was still busy trying to avoid Calhoun’s attack.
“Leave him; he is mine.” She told her husband. Calhoun wanted to go over to his wife
and ask after her. But as he studied her appearance, he noticed that despite the blood smeared
over her, her eyes were cold and her expression was of determination. So he remained quiet,
remaining where he stood. He would do just as she asked, but she shouldn’t blame him if he
takes over when he sees the fight going downhill. No way was he just going to stand there and
watch as his wife was being beaten.
Slovic started chuckling, watching as Elena walked towards him. “I understand now. I
know who you are. You are his woman.” He laughed loudly. “Oh, my niece wouldn’t be pleased
to hear this news.” He started to rise.
“I was wondering what was so special about you.” He coughed out blood, crouching and
placing his hands on his knees for balance. “You want to fight me alone? You think you can
defeat me?” he laughed again. “You may have a shot if you are assisted by your husband there,
but trust me when I say you have no shot alone. I would gladly tear you apart while your
husband watches.”
Elena took her sword in both hands, fisting on her building anger. She relied on it for
strength. That was the only way to win the war without breaking down. She began sauntering
towards him.
“Let me introduce myself.” She started. “I am Elena, wife of the Blood king and Queen of
the blood kingdom, granddaughter to the King and Queen of Neba, and daughter of the King of
Pres.”
Slovic’s eyes widened in surprise. “No wonder you took my story personal. You were
related to the main character. You are your father’s daughter I must say, if I can relate you to him
without knowing facts.”
“You are going to pay. You will take on the brunt of my anger for the way your people
destroyed my family. I will not rest till I have destroyed you with my hands.”
“Oh, please try,” Slovic said, slowly standing upright. He flexed his shoulders and
fingers, then faced Elena with an evil smirk. Then he looked at Calhoun. “Please, do stand and
watch as I destroy your wife. Immediately, he sent a wave of blue flames to Elena, flames strong
enough to scorch a whole mountain. Elena quickly dodged it and began to run towards him.
Slovic continued sending out a string of fire; she continued to avoid it. Elena drew power from
her husband, their shared strength, and the anger in her. When she was close enough to attack,
Slovic sent out another wave which she easily deflected. Calhoun and Slovic were both shocked
that she was able to deflect the tide. Still, that moment of destruction cost Slovic as a heavy blow
landed on his shoulder, slicing his shoulder into two and obliterating his arm from his body. He
screamed in pain, falling to the ground.
Elena still didn’t rest. She continued hacking at him, tearing up some part of his body
whenever he was close enough to her. He kept dragging himself, enduring the pain to get away
from Elena, but he had lost an arm and an ankle by then. In his weak state, Slovic kept on firing a
series of attacks with his good arm. It was his mistake. He should have never underestimated
Elena.
She slowly began walking towards him. She stepped on the blood flowing from him,
craving for more to suit her anger. “I would take my time tearing you limb from limb, slowly. I
would keep you awake through that whole ordeal. I would make sure you suffer.”
Knowing that there was no means of escape for him, Slovic began to laugh. “Well, you
proved me wrong. You are strong. That was my mistake. I would not make it again.”
“You would not live long to make any mistake again.” Elena countered, her voice cold.
Slovic smiled smugly, and with his bloodied face, it was a gory sight to see.
“Oh I would live longer than you, I can assure you. You lots still do not know what you
are going up against. I would watch as you are all torn apart, your kingdoms and your loved ones
destroyed. I would watch and laugh.” He said, grinning evilly.
Immediately, a loud sound boomed from the centre of the field, accompanied by the
chilling laugh, and the crimson sun of the wasteland turned black.
“I am finally here.” The chilling voice thundered.