Evolution of the Ruined Heir

Chapter 318: No More

Clamor. Loud shouts. Arguments.

This was what filled the Grath’Mekhai’s ears. The elders of the coven had gathered in a makeshift chamber underground, one that granted them next to no privacy.

The surviving thousands of the coven could hear their screams. Yet, nothing seemed to reach the Grath’Mekhai’s ears.

Her eyes stared, lost, at the severed heads of multiple children laying bare on the floor in front of her. She couldn’t tell what she was currently feeling.

Today had been filled with so much death and pain that she’d gone numb by the sheer number of raging emotions rampaging through her.

The coven had been attacked. People had been killed, slaughtered, and captured. Even her own did not escape this.

The Grath’Mekhai felt her heart ache as she recalled the report she’d received earlier. Her daughters had been captured. Taken.

The thought of never seeing them again weighed heavily on her, though she couldn’t help but admit their current situation outweighed it.

Due to the surprise attack, the coven had been caught unprepared. An unusual smell had spread across the coven and many yawned to sleep rather than roar to battle.

They’d been forced to enter underground to regain their senses, using the hollow born to make sure they received the time they needed to think. A grade four spawning would be a calamity to both sides.

Many of the elders had called for immediate retaliation.

War. War. War.

Warriors raged. Eyes blazed with anger. Even the Grath’Mekhai had been prepared to battle until her last breath.

But then, the city had sent the heads of their children. Children. Gor’Mekhai who had just begun learning the ways of the coven. Who knew nothing about the current situation. They were as pure as vita. Their only sin was being weak and helpless.

Yet, the city hadn’t hesitated to kill them in cold blood. As the Grath’Mekhai stared at their heads, something in her shattered. She superimposed the images of her girls with them.

Did it mean her Luna and Lina were gone? Dead? Is this what would befall the rest of the coven should they fall into the city’s hands?

’I’ve been stupid.’

Regret, this was all she felt. She had wanted peace with the city, and despite Malakai’s warnings, had still strived for it. Now, her passiveness had brought about the destruction of her coven. Her precious coven.

Passiveness. This was the problem. It was a disease, one she had found the cure for.

War. Chaos.

This was what the city wanted and she would give it to them.

A wave erupted from the Grath’Mekhai, and the elders felt a shudder running through their bodies and froze. They went silent, turning towards the Grath’Mekhai. She had risen to her feet.

“Today is a sad day…”

…

An army of warriors had encircled a large area littered with felled trees.

On one side of the area, a few men and women had gathered, each engaged in a heated debate.

“I told you! We should just storm the place and kill these savages! We needn’t waste time waiting!”

“They threatened to kill the hollow blooms! Do you want to fight a grade four? Can you, hmm?”

“But we’re wasting time just standing here. They could be planning an escape as we speak.”

“We have people surrounding this place. They’re actively sensing the vibrations in the ground. If they’re escaping, we’ll know it.” A more calm voice interrupted the loud debate.

The clan heads turned to see a figure donned in black staring calmly at them through his faceless mask.

No one had seen the man’s face, but it was clear he made them feel uneasy. He was the second-in-command from the fourth pulse in this operation.

One of the clan heads coughed. “Jenka is right. We need to exercise patience. After sending their children’s heads to them multiple times, they’ll come around and surrender.”

“Plus.” Jenka silenced the first man that had been about to speak. “It is the will of the fourth pulse. We wait.”

Some grunted, but listened. Many clans had joined this expedition, most hoping to get into the good graces of the fourth pulse. Jenka found all of them irritating.

They were clan heads whose power had obviously gotten to their heads. Pot-bellied, overweight, and greedy-eyed. Basically scum who only thought about themselves. Jenka couldn’t wait until the fourth pulse would do away with them.

’In time,’ he thought, calming himself down.

There was a moment of silence, broken by the movement of one of the felled trees. The Gor’Mekhai had raised this place to cover their tracks when they went underground.

“Someone’s coming!” one of the clan heads exclaimed.

Jenka narrowed his eyes. ’Are they finally surrendering?’ He wondered.

Soon enough, a single figure emerged from the ground. She was alone, without any other person.

Jenka had never seen a person more ancient.

Her antlers rose from her head, reaching for the heavens. Her back was straight despite her aged appearance and her gaze… they were fierce, cold, the kind that made Jenka’s eyes sharpen. Something about her gaze made him feel unease.

“I am Grath’Mekhai.” Her voice boomed, carrying with it the sanctity of an entire people.

“You invade my coven. You slaughter my kin. You send back the heads of our children, our children, innocent Gor’Mekhai who knew nothing of war, who bore no sin but weakness.”

Her hands clenched, trembling not with fear but with the tremor of wrath.

“You call us savages. Beasts. Yet who is savage here? Who butchered children still learning to walk the coven paths? Who desecrated purity with blood and chaos?!”

“I sought peace. Despite warnings, I extended my hand to you. I believed your city capable of honor. But my mercy has bought only ruin. My daughters taken. My coven broken. My people bled to bone. And you send me their heads…”

“But no more.”

There was a heavy pause.

“You wished for chaos,” she declared, eyes glacial. “Then I shall give you chaos.”

The ground trembled beneath her feet. Jenka’s eyes widened, his instincts screaming at him.

’No.’

His voice tore through the paralysis gripping the others.

“Stop her!”

But it was already too late.

Roots erupted from the earth, thick as spears. At their tips were the severed heads of multiple hollow blooms.

They thrashed violently for a moment, then stilled in unison. Death radiated from them like a curse.

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Then pillars of darkness erupted into the sky like divine judgment, blotting out light, blotting out life.

Blooms had been killed. Grade four darkness creatures were spawning.