The Dread of Damned

The following days passed in a haze of refinement—training with Lucian and Arion, honing my control, and spending whatever time I could spare with Mother and Elara. Mother, however, was preoccupied with stabilizing her newfound powers, struggling to adjust to the vast energy now coursing through her. As a result, she had little time for anything else. Father remained busy with his responsibilities, handling matters during regular council meetings, which I attended more often than not. Gunnar himself refrained from openly opposing me for now, but those loyal to him—those who thrived under my father's lenient rule—made subtle attempts to show their defiance. Their resistance had nothing to do with principle; it was fear of losing the privileges they had long enjoyed.

During this time, Gunnar formally reported that the third phase of the project had been completed. I personally tested the results before assigning them to Lucian's oversight, and with that, the fourth and final phase was set in motion.

My refinement speed had increased drastically. With my bones now more receptive to essence, and aided by the suit Elina had crafted, the process of gathering and absorbing essence had become more efficient than ever before. I had nearly reached the halfway mark in refining my leg bones, and with every training session, I could feel my essence becoming purer. My organs and already-refined bones absorbed and stored energy at an increasing rate, growing stronger with each cycle of depletion and replenishment.

There was no doubt—training remained the most effective method for forcing the body to adapt to the constant influx of essence.

I had not visited Elina since our last encounter. I had been too occupied, of course, but that was not the only reason. I wanted to give her time—time to process the new reality, to adjust, to perhaps even cling to a fragile illusion of safety. Let her believe she had found stability. Let her breathe freely, for now. It would make it all the more satisfying when I shattered her world beneath my feet.

There was another who awaited my attention. My Pain Slut. The plans I had for her were already in place, waiting only for me to set them into motion. But at the moment, my focus remained on Gunnar and his movements. So, for now, I granted her time as well. Time to breathe. Time to rest. Both of them.

A few days later, just as the first light of dawn spilled through my window, Lucian returned. I had been refining through the night, pushing my limits, but I paused as he entered. His report was straightforward: Gunnar was nearly finished repairing the armor, and the refinement process was about to begin. The House of Rylan, under the leadership of Kai Rylan, had been tasked with overseeing the refinement, and so far, they had not disappointed.

Lucian left soon after, and I sank onto my bed, allowing myself a brief moment of rest.

Everything was already in motion.@@novelbin@@

If Gunnar, blinded by his own arrogance and greed, dared to take this final step… it would mark the end of his bloodline. Not a single member of his family would be spared.

As I lay there, essence pulsed through my body, resonating in a steady, insistent rhythm. Soon. Soon, my hands would be stained with blood, my beast satiated and all who had doubted me would understand. They would know their future ruler was not as merciful as the one who sat upon the throne now. Those who had deceived me would pay the price in blood.

The Order of Nocturnals would rise once more.

Days passed, and with each cycle of refinement, I edged closer to the threshold—closer to becoming a True Awakened.

Yet, despite my progress, I could feel it. A barrier. A wall standing between me and the next stage of power. A breaking point I had yet to reach. A final push that would propel me beyond this plateau.

And I knew exactly what was missing.

Just as I opened my eyes, a knock sounded at my door. Lucian stepped inside. His expression was unreadable, but his words carried the weight of inevitability.

"Gunnar is here, Your Highness," he reported. "The final phase of the project has been completed."

I rose, wordlessly following him to the testing chamber. The refined armor stood before me—sleek, polished, humming with the energy infused into its very core. I tested its resilience, its adaptability. Every movement felt effortless. It was, as expected, a success.

Gunnar stood to the side, watching with his usual arrogance. When I finally turned toward him, he spoke.

"Are you satisfied, Your Highness?" His voice carried the same insufferable confidence as always.

I let the silver sword in my hand dissolve into nothingness before reclining onto the sofa. "Yes, I am," I replied smoothly.

His eyes flickered with something unreadable as I continued. "You have done well on this," I admitted, offering the smallest concession. Then, with deliberate ease, I added, "I will be sure to report your efforts to the Council of Elders."

Gunnar smiled—smug, self-satisfied. "It is my duty to be of service to the House of Aestherisin," he replied, the arrogance in his tone barely concealed beneath a thin veil of formality.

"Good," I said, dismissing him with a wave of my hand. "Now, see to it that this batch of armors is dispatched under Lucian's care. Consider your work done."

He bowed, though the gesture lacked true deference, and left the room. Lucian turned to me, offering a respectful nod before following him out.

And so, I waited. Minutes stretched into hours, the moon rising high above the estate, bathing the hall in pale silver light.

Then, at last, Lucian returned.

"It has happened, Your Highness," he announced, his voice low but certain.

I exhaled slowly, a smirk curling at my lips. "So… his arrogance has finally blinded him."

A laugh escaped me—dark, knowing. My silver eyes gleamed, mirroring the moonlight pouring through the windows.

I stood, adjusting the folds of my attire with practiced ease.

"Then let's put an end to this."

With Lucian at my side, I stepped into the night.