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Sons of a devil-Chapter 119: The valley of souls
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Chapter 119 - The valley of souls
The Valley of Souls was a place whispered about in lullabies and feared in battle prayers—a land carved from the silence of death and the weight of forgotten promises. The path to it wound through a dense forest of silver-leaved trees that hummed when touched. No one returned unchanged. Some didn't return at all.
But for the children of legends—Azrael Jr., Caelan, and Rina—it was where vengeance called them next.
Cain and Selene stood at the palace gates, their eyes lingering on their children. Cain had aged more in the last few months than in all his years as king. Selene, strong as ever, gave Caelan a final hug, whispering something only he heard. He didn't respond—just nodded with steel behind his eyes.
Rina stood apart, her hand resting on the hilt of her fire-forged dagger. Her cheeks, usually flushed with mischief, were now sharp with resolve. She wore a red cloak stitched by her mother Zara, and Leo's old war boots that were too big but filled with meaning.
"Do not go where the wind doesn't carry your name," Isolde, the queen once and forever, warned gently as she came forward. "But if you must... make the wind scream it."
They left before dawn.
The valley greeted them with silence. It lay low between mountains, hidden in the mist. The air crackled like it carried spirits, and the children felt watched—not with eyes, but with memories.
"Why does this place feel like it's breathing?" Caelan asked, brushing his fingers along the bark of a glowing tree.
"Because it remembers everything," Rina replied. "Even what you want to forget."
Azrael Jr. moved ahead, his gaze fixed on a large black stone structure—half buried in the valley's center. It was a tomb, an altar, and a door all in one.
"The well of vengeance," he murmured.
At its base, ancient runes pulsed. As he stepped forward, the sky darkened.
A voice echoed—not spoken aloud, but inside their heads.
"Who comes seeking blood, with blood already soaked in their veins?"
Azrael Jr. answered. "The heirs of Eldralore. The children of Cain and Selene. The fury born of betrayal."
"What do you offer?"
Rina stepped forward and sliced her palm. "My flame."
Caelan followed, placing his hand over his heart. "My courage."
Azrael Jr. pulled his sword and pressed it to the stone. "My soul, if needed."
The runes flared. The stone split open with a sound like bones cracking. From it rose three spirits, ancient guardians—one with the body of a lion, one a shadow without form, and one, a woman cloaked in feathers.
They circled the children. Tested them.
"You seek to avenge your slain king and queen," said the feathered woman. "But vengeance is not justice."
"We know," Azrael Jr. said. "But justice sleeps. Vengeance runs."
The spirits did not stop them.
Instead, they gave gifts—ancient power awoken from within.
Rina's fire became blue and cold. It licked the air like a hungry beast. Caelan's eyes turned gold; he could see the truth behind lies. Azrael Jr.'s sword burned with starlight.
"You carry the wrath of your bloodline," the lion said. "Let it not consume you."
They bowed. The stone sealed behind them.
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As they left the valley, shadows whispered.
A storm stirred on the other side of the realm—one tied to the death of Isolde and Cain. Their killers were not just soldiers. They were summoned beasts. Bred in darkness. Sent to destroy the bloodline of kings.
But now the bloodline burned hotter than hellfire.
Back at the palace, Selene felt a tremor.
"They're coming back," she whispered.
Zara appeared beside her. "Changed?"
Selene nodded slowly. "Changed... and unstoppable."
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