The Duchess’s laughter slid through the corridors of Arven Manor like an invisible blade.

It wasn’t loud.

Nor hysterical.

Worse.

It was controlled.

Elegant.

Almost affectionate.

Like someone watching a carefully rehearsed piece finally reach its expected climax.

The sound traveled up the upper staircases as lightning briefly illuminated the stained-glass windows of the central corridor, casting bluish flashes on the mutilated bodies scattered across the floor. The rain continued to beat violently against the mansion’s enormous windows, and for a moment the entire property seemed alive—breathing along with that voice.

Morgana remained motionless.

Completely motionless.

Damon immediately noticed the change in her. It wasn’t fear. Nor hesitation.

It was profound recognition.

Memory.

That laugh had been a part of her childhood for years. Banquets. Political meetings. Aristocratic dinners. Luxurious corridors. The Duchess had always laughed that way when she believed she had absolute control over a situation.

And that made everything much worse.

Because it meant she still believed she was in control.

The creature before them lunged forward again, breaking the moment of paralysis. Damon swung his sword in time to block the downward blow that would have struck his shoulder, but the impact reverberated violently throughout his arm. The strength of those transformed men was absurd. There was no refinement in their movements, no real military technique. Just monstrous aggression amplified by something unnatural.

Cedric pierced another guard through the abdomen while shouting for the veterans to hold their positions near the staircase. One of the old guard men fell seconds later, violently dragged by a creature that completely ignored two deep puncture wounds in his chest before sinking its teeth into the soldier’s throat.

The scream was short.

Blood splattered across the cobblestones of the corridor.

Cherry immediately fired another bolt, striking the creature’s face from the side and tearing off part of its deformed jaw. Even so, the thing continued trying to lunge at the newly fallen corpse.

"This is profoundly unfair!" Cherry shouted as she retreated to reload. "Bodies should respect basic rules of mortality!"

Elizabeth watched everything with increasing calculated tension. Her eyes scanned the runes on the bodies, the creatures’ movement patterns, and how they reacted to injuries.

Then she realized.

"Destroy the head!" she shouted immediately. "The runes concentrate the flow near the cervical spine!"

Morgana reacted first.

She surged up the stairs like a dark shadow, dodging a brutal blow before swinging her father’s sword in an elegant yet brutal arc. The blade completely pierced the neck of one of the creatures.

The head rolled down the steps.

And finally, the body fell.

Definitely.

Cedric understood immediately.

"Head and neck!" he roared to the other men.

The formation began to stabilize.

Barely.

Damon blocked another attack and then plunged his sword directly under the jaw of the creature in front of him, piercing its skull from bottom to top. The body shuddered violently before collapsing against him.

Heavy.

Hot.

Smelling of rotten blood and burnt iron.

And then—

More footsteps.

Above.

Much more.

Cherry looked at the staircase and immediately paled.

"Oh, no. No, no, no..."

Shadows began to emerge on the second floor.

Multiple figures.

Transformed guards.

Silent.

Watching.

Momentary.

Like predators waiting for the order to attack.

The Duchess was toying with them.

Damon realized this with unpleasant clarity. She could have sent them all at once.

But she didn’t.

She was testing.

Observing.

Perhaps even amused.

Another lightning bolt illuminated the central hall.

And then they finally saw her.

Duchess Arven stood on the upper balcony.

Dressed entirely in black.

Elegant as always.

One hand rested gently on the golden railing as she watched the battle below with utter tranquility.

Her face remained flawless.

But her eyes...

Her eyes were wrong.

There was something feverish within them now. Something too intense. Too deep. Like someone clinging to their own mind while slowly sinking into something monstrous.

Morgana stopped in the middle of the staircase.

The sword remained steady in her hand.

"Stand away from my father," she said.

The voice was cold enough to freeze the entire corridor.

The Duchess smiled slowly.

"Oh, Morgana..." Her voice trailed down the hall with an almost maternal softness. "You’ve finally come home."

Cherry made a horrified face.

"I hate aristocratic families."

No one disagreed.

The Duchess descended a step slowly, never taking her eyes off her daughter.

"You brought invaders into our home." Her smile widened slightly. "Your father would be devastated."

"You destroyed him."

"I saved him."

The silence that followed was heavy.

Even the motionless creatures behind her seemed to wait.

Morgana climbed another step.

"You turned him into a living prison."

"I preserved this family."

"Lies."

The word echoed throughout the hall.

The Duchess’s expression didn’t change immediately. But Damon noticed something small.

An almost invisible tremor in her fingers.

Instability.

Elizabeth noticed it too.

"Keep talking," she murmured discreetly to Morgana.

The Duchess tilted her head slightly.

"You don’t understand what’s happening, my dear." Her voice remained calm. "Arven is rotting. The whole kingdom is." She slowly opened her arms. "The nobles are weak. The Council is corrupt. The merchants control more than kings." Her eyes began to gleam faintly in the lightning. "Someone needed to take control before everything collapsed."

Cherry reloaded the crossbow while whispering:

"She’s definitely gone mad."

"Yes," Elizabeth replied softly. "But not completely." 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

That was the most dangerous thing.

The Duchess still possessed logic.

Purpose.

Conviction.

She wasn’t just an unbalanced woman using forbidden magic.

She sincerely believed she was saving Arven.

And people like that destroyed entire kingdoms.

Morgana continued slowly climbing the stairs.

"You murdered your own guard."

"Sacrifices."

"You destroyed this house."

"Purification."

"You killed Halbrecht."

For the first time, the Duchess hesitated.

Too little.

But enough.

And then something changed in her face.

Irritation.

"Sir Halbrecht was a sentimentalist." Her voice lost some of its gentleness. "He would have destroyed everything we built."

"He would have stopped you."

"He would have betrayed me."

"Because you’ve become a monster."

The entire hall seemed to hold its breath.

The Duchess’s eyes finally hardened.

And the smile vanished.

Behind her, the creatures began to move again.

Slowly.

Like dogs sensing their owner’s tension.

Damon tightened his grip on his sword.

"We’re running out of time."

Elizabeth nodded discreetly.

She was already making quick mental calculations. How many men remained. How many corridors were still open. How long until the entire mansion was plunged into total combat.

Then—

A new sound emerged.

Explosions.

Coming from the west wing.

Loud.

Very loud.

The windows shook violently.

Cedric’s eyes widened.

"The internal storages..."

Another bang.

Smoke began to billow from the upper corridors in the distance.

Cherry blinked rapidly.

"Ah." She paused. "Perhaps our allies are getting a little too enthusiastic."

But Damon immediately realized the problem.

That changed everything.

If the fire started to spread...

Panic.

Structural collapse.

Guards running around without coordination.

The entire mansion could turn into a massacre.

The Duchess realized it too.

For the first time since she had appeared on the balcony, her expression wavered.

Rage.

Pure.

Violent.

"Idiots," she hissed.

And in that instant, all the creatures charged at once.

The hall exploded again in violence.

The deformed figures descended the stairs in a grotesque avalanche of metal, teeth, and twisted flesh. The veterans of the old guard tried to hold formation, but the impact was too brutal. One man was hurled directly against a marble column. Another disappeared beneath two creatures that tore his armor with monstrous force.

Damon advanced immediately.

His sword collided with a creature’s deformed arm before piercing its neck in a violent horizontal blow. Morgana appeared just above, moving too fast for someone wielding an aristocratic longsword. She struck with brutal precision now. Without hesitation. Without ceremony.

Like someone who had finally fully accepted what she needed to do.

Cherry fired relentlessly from the rear, shouting increasingly offensive insults at creatures who clearly no longer possessed the emotional capacity to be offended.

"STAY DEAD!"

Another shot.

"THAT’S NOT A DIFFICULT REQUEST!"

Elizabeth retreated cautiously, observing the Duchess above them.

And then she realized something important.

She wasn’t coming down.

Even now.

Even during the combat.

The Duchess remained near the upper balcony.

Protecting something.

Or someone.

Elizabeth immediately turned to Damon.

"The Duke is near her."

Damon understood instantly.

Of course.

She would never leave him alone.

Morgana heard that too.

And in that instant she decided.

She advanced.

Directly up the main staircase.

Cedric shouted something behind her, but it was too late. Two creatures tried to intercept her mid-ascent. Morgana dodged the first and slashed through the throat of the second before kicking the body down the stairs. Her father’s sword spun in her hands with elegant violence as she made her way up the stairs, step by step.

The Duchess finally lost some of her composure.

"MORGANA!"

The cry echoed through the hall.

And for the first time...

There was real fear in that voice.

Not for the mansion.

Not for the power.

For the control.

Because Morgana was approaching too fast.

Damon immediately noticed the change in the creatures’ behavior. Now they all converged on the main staircase.

Desperate protection.

Instinctive.

The Duchess was truly hiding something behind her.

Or someone.

Another lightning bolt illuminated the hall.

And then, for a single second—

Damon saw a figure sitting in the darkness behind the upper balcony.

Momentary.

Hunched over.

Silently observing everything.

Duke Arven.