Chapter 168 Devastation

Chapter 168: Chapter 168 Devastation

A blonde figure sat in the middle of a magical circle surrounded by thick vegetation. Dozens of candles had been lit around her, their flickering flames illuminating the strange symbols drawn on the ground.

The air was heavy with magic, and the scent of burning herbs filled the surroundings.

Rose had been sitting there for hours, desperately trying to perform a summoning ritual. Her voice had grown hoarse from repeatedly reciting the incantations, yet nothing happened.

Not even the slightest reaction.

She clenched her fists and tried again, carefully pronouncing every word as she had been taught. The candles flickered, and a faint breeze swept through the vegetation, but the magic circle remained unchanged.

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing!

"Why isn’t it working?!"

Rose screamed, throwing her hands into the air.

She tried once more, but the moment the final words left her lips, the magical energy dispersed into the air like smoke.

That was it.

She had reached her limit.

"Damn it!"

Her scream echoed through the vegetation, startling the birds resting in the nearby trees.

Footsteps approached hurriedly, and another figure emerged from between the trees.

He had long red hair that fluttered against his shoulders and sharp hazel eyes that immediately settled on the distressed witch. His face carried the unmistakable signs of exhaustion, but he still hurried toward her with a glass of water in his hand.

"Rose, it’s okay. You’re going to kill yourself if you continue like this!"

Eugene crouched beside her, offering her the water.

However, Rose didn’t even glance at the glass.

"How can I stop?" she demanded, her voice trembling. "Look at what has happened! My two friends are gone, and I’m supposed to be a witch! What kind of witch am I if I can’t help when I’m needed?"

She finally looked at him, her blue eyes burning with frustration and tears.

"I’m so useless, Eugene. It hurts so much, and you’re standing there telling me to stop trying!"

Eugene’s expression tightened.

"That’s not what I’m saying—"

"And don’t pretend you want Ashton to come back!" Rose interrupted. "You keep telling me to stop, to rest, to accept things as they are. What if I don’t want to accept any of this?"

She looked away before he could respond.

Her hand moved toward a small bowl resting beside the circle. Without thinking, she grabbed it and smashed it against the ground.

The sound of breaking pottery echoed around them.

Eugene closed his eyes briefly, trying to control his temper.

It had been five months.

Five long months since Ashton had disappeared, and the entire Quintorian Empire had descended into chaos.

The emperor was nowhere to be found. There had been no confirmation of his death, no body, and no explanation for his sudden disappearance. Irene had vanished around the same time, leaving behind more questions than answers.

Eugene and Rose were convinced that neither of them was dead.

After the destruction at the imperial palace, there had been too many unexplained events to believe that everything had ended so conveniently.

The flames had consumed much of the palace, and the magical explosion had left devastation in its wake. Yet Eugene couldn’t shake the feeling that Ashton had survived somehow.

The same applied to Lamia.

The rare Enigma and Phoenix witch had disappeared while protecting the people around her. She had used her power to freeze the dragons and create an opportunity for the others to survive, but no one knew what had happened to her afterward.

Eugene refused to believe she was dead.

If they could find a way to bring Lamia back, perhaps she could help them understand what had happened to Ashton. Perhaps she could even help restore the balance that had been lost.

But first, they needed to find her.

And Rose’s repeated failures were doing nothing to bring them closer to that goal.

The witches of the West Coast had become a menace since Ashton’s disappearance. With so many of their members killed during his final battle, they had abandoned any possibility of viewing the Pureblood as a savior.

Instead, they had branded him the spawn of the devil.

Their accusations had spread throughout the empire, and the rumors surrounding Ashton had only grown more vicious.

Some claimed that he had been corrupted by dark magic. Others insisted that his connection to Lysander, the son of Lucifer, proved he had always been a threat to the supernatural world.

There were even rumors that Ashton might be carrying Lysander’s child.

The claims had spread like wildfire, and although many dismissed them as ridiculous, they had served their purpose.

Fear had replaced hope.

Eventually, the witches began promoting another story: the Pureblood was dead.

They declared that Ashton had perished during the destruction of the imperial palace and that his return, should it ever happen, would bring nothing but another catastrophic war.

For the time being, many supernatural beings had accepted the claim.

However, Eugene knew better than to believe everything the witches said.

Ashton had survived things that should have been impossible. He had faced enemies powerful enough to destroy entire territories, and his abilities had only continued to grow.

If anyone could survive such a disaster, it was him.

Unfortunately, hope alone couldn’t stop the world from falling apart.

The witches of the West Coast had seized control of the Quintorian Empire. They now interfered with its governance, imposed their authority on other supernatural races, and treated their own kind as the rightful rulers of the land.

Other races were being pushed aside, and anyone who dared challenge the witches risked becoming their next target.

Their power continued to grow, but they were no longer the only ones fighting for control.

The news of the Pureblood’s supposed death had encouraged several races to emerge from hiding.

Vampires and werewolves, who had kept their numbers and territories concealed for years, had begun making their moves. Demons were also becoming increasingly involved in the struggle for dominance.

The result was a brutal conflict between the witches, vampires, werewolves, and demons.

Every faction wanted power, and none seemed willing to surrender.

The empire had become a battlefield.

Even humans, who had once remained largely ignorant of the supernatural world’s internal struggles, were beginning to suffer the consequences. Attacks had become more frequent, entire settlements had been abandoned, and ordinary people were caught between forces they couldn’t hope to understand.

Eugene had never imagined that things could become this bad.

And somewhere beneath all the chaos was another mystery.

The Book of Shadows had disappeared.

No one knew what had happened to the ancient book after Noah’s final battle at the imperial palace. The witches of the West Coast were searching for it, as were several other supernatural factions.

Everyone wanted its terrifying power.

But the book had vanished without a trace, leaving behind nothing but speculation and fear.

Eugene glanced at Rose, who remained seated on the ground, staring at the broken bowl.

"I think we might have doomed the world," he said quietly.

Rose didn’t answer.

"Look at the Quintorian Empire now. It’s nothing but a battlefield. Everyone wants power, and ordinary humans are being dragged into the conflict. If this continues, they might eventually face extinction."

He rubbed his face, his exhaustion becoming more apparent.

"I honestly don’t understand how everything got this bad."

Rose lowered her gaze.

She didn’t have an answer.

All she could think about was the people she had lost.

Lamia was gone. Ashton was gone. And Oliver, the one person who might have been able to help them, was nowhere to be found.

She remembered how different things had been before the disaster. There had been problems, of course, but they had still possessed something precious: the belief that things could be fixed.

Now, every attempt to change their circumstances seemed to end in failure.

Eugene watched her for a moment before speaking again.

"What about Oliver?"

Rose’s head snapped up.

"What about him?"

"I still don’t understand exactly what happened to him. You told me Lysander took him, but why would he do that?"

"Because he did!" Rose replied irritably. "I’ve told you this already, Eugene. Lysander took him, and I haven’t seen him since."

"But Oliver is a Phoenix witch. His magic could be useful right now. Phoenix witches are incredibly powerful, and they have abilities that could help us deal with the situation. Lamia was the same."

He paused, looking at the magical circle.

"If we could find Oliver, perhaps he could help us understand why your summoning ritual isn’t working. Maybe he could even help us locate Lamia."

Rose let out a bitter laugh.

"You think I haven’t considered that?"

She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.

"Do you think I enjoy sitting here day after day, trying every spell I know while nothing happens? I have been doing everything I can, Eugene. Everything!"

Her voice cracked.

"And what have I achieved? Nothing. I’m still here, alone, while everyone else is either missing, dead, or suffering somewhere I can’t reach them."

She covered her face, and the tears she had been fighting finally spilled over.

"Lysander took Oliver, and I was left here. Ashton disappeared, Lamia disappeared, and now the entire world is falling apart. Somehow, I’m supposed to be the one who brings peace back to the empire. How am I supposed to be okay with that?"

Her shoulders shook as she sobbed.

"Look at everyone else. I’m not a Phoenix witch, and I’m not one of those powerful witches from the West Coast. I’m just an ordinary witch who can’t even perform a simple summoning ritual!"

She looked down at her trembling hands.

"I’m useless."

For a moment, Eugene said nothing.

He understood that Rose was hurting. He knew she had lost people who mattered to her, and he couldn’t pretend that her situation was easy.

But he also knew that if they continued like this, they would lose whatever chance remained of finding their friends.

He reached for her hands just as she attempted to stand.

"Stop it!"

Rose froze.

"I said enough, young lady!"

His raised voice startled her so much that she could only stare at him.

Eugene had rarely spoken to her that way. They had never been particularly close, and their relationship had always been shaped more by their shared circumstances than by genuine friendship.

They had begun working together because they wanted the same things: to find their missing companions and uncover the truth behind the catastrophe.

Yet somewhere along the way, their partnership had become something they both depended on.

Eugene tightened his grip on her hands, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"You’ve spent so much time feeling sorry for yourself that I’m getting fed up with it. Yes, this happened. Yes, everything is falling apart. And yes, we have no idea where our friends are."

His voice remained firm.

"But what do you think will happen if we give up? Do you believe the world will suddenly fix itself because we’re too tired to keep trying?"

Rose’s lips parted, but no words came out.

"Look around you!" Eugene continued. "The world is on the verge of destruction. Magic has never been in such a dangerous state, and every supernatural race is fighting for control. If this continues, there might not even be an empire left to save."

He released one of her hands and gestured toward the surrounding vegetation.

"And you’re sitting here, ready to abandon everything because your spells aren’t working?"

Rose stared at him, her body trembling.

"I’m not saying you shouldn’t grieve. I’m not telling you to pretend that everything is fine. But you cannot let your pain consume you until there’s nothing left of you."

His expression softened slightly.

"Ashton is your friend. If he’s alive somewhere, then we need to find him. Lamia is missing, too, and I don’t know where she is or what happened to her. But I refuse to believe that we’ve lost them forever."

He drew a deep breath.

"So stop this pity party and get up. We need to find a way to bring them back before this world turns into a graveyard."

For several seconds, Rose could only gape at him.

She had never heard Eugene speak to her like this.

He was usually composed, sometimes distant, and often so consumed by his own worries that she wondered whether he even noticed how badly she was struggling.

But now he was looking directly at her, and there was something unmistakable in his eyes.

Fear.

He was afraid, too.

He had simply refused to let that fear become an excuse to stop fighting.

Rose’s body trembled as she slowly lowered her head.

Perhaps he was right.

She couldn’t spend the rest of her life sitting in a magical circle, repeating incantations that achieved nothing while the world continued to collapse around her.

If Ashton and Lamia were alive, they needed her.

And if they weren’t, she still needed to discover the truth.

She took a shaky breath and wiped her face.

"You’re right, Eugene Haines."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Did you just agree with me?"

"Don’t make me regret it."

Despite everything, Eugene almost smiled.

Rose glanced at the ruined circle, the extinguished candles, and the broken bowl scattered across the ground.

Then she looked down at herself.

Her clothes were dirty, her hair was tangled, and the scent of burnt herbs clung stubbornly to her skin.

"I think I need a shower," she muttered. "I stink right now."

Eugene stared at her.

Of all the things he had expected her to say, that wasn’t one of them.

"You’ve just finished crying about the possible destruction of the world, and that’s what you’re worried about?"

Rose shot him an offended look.

"I can worry about more than one thing at a time, thank you very much."

Before he could respond, she pulled her hands free and stood up.

Her legs were unsteady, but she managed to regain her balance. She brushed the dirt from her clothes, took one last look at the circle, and turned away.

"I’m going inside."

Eugene watched as she walked through the vegetation, leaving the candles and broken bowl behind.

He remained where he was for a moment, staring at the place where she had been sitting.

Then his gaze drifted toward the distant horizon.