The sun was already high in the sky by the time Lysara finally stirred awake, her blue hair cascading over the pillow as she slowly sat up. Her condition was still weak, but there was an undeniable difference from the day before. Her energy was slowly returning, though she still felt fragile. The calming effects of the herb had healed much of the physical damage, but her heart and mind were still recovering.

  She smiled softly to herself, but her eyes darted over to where Val sat, his usual expression of indifference as he observed the morning. He remained calm, unfazed, despite Lysara’s proximity. She had, once again, found herself inching closer to him. The warmth of his presence was the only comfort that could soothe her in this chaos.

  Val, ever the logical and cold-hearted one, remained as he always did: composed. His crimson eyes flicked to Lysara as she slowly leaned into him, but there was no visible change in his demeanor.

  Lysara, on the other hand, was enjoying every moment of it. She had always been affectionate, and now, more than ever, she was clinging to him. Her golden eyes shone with an endearing pyfulness, and she couldn't help but tease him in the little ways she knew would get under his skin.

  “Kael,” she purred, her voice light and pyful. “Isn’t it nice to finally have a peaceful moment? You know, I think you should smile more. You’d look even more handsome.”

  Val, however, remained stoic, his usual poker face not betraying his inner thoughts. But Lysara could tell that, despite his silence, he wasn’t truly unaffected. Her antics were clearly getting to him, but she didn't care. She simply enjoyed the fact that she could make him break his cold, hard exterior.

  “I don’t smile for anyone,” Val replied ftly, still unfazed.

  Lysara giggled, moving even closer until her cheek rested on his shoulder. Aris stood nearby, watching them both with a mix of confusion and amusement.

  Aris had been observing their interactions ever since Lysara had started to heal. She could sense the change between them—the closeness, the affection that Lysara showed toward Val, and how Val, despite being his usual cold self, seemed to tolerate it. Aris was both surprised and somewhat baffled. She hadn’t expected Lysara to form such a bond with him, not in the way she had. But Lysara always found a way to bring warmth to those around her. It seemed that she had succeeded in making even Val soften, at least a little.

  "Are you two going to be like this all day?" Aris finally asked, shaking her head.

  Lysara just smiled sweetly, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Maybe," she teased. "Maybe Kael likes it."

  Val’s gaze flickered briefly to Aris, but his voice remained firm. “We can’t stay here. The Lycans will find this vilge eventually. It’s best we leave before they do.”

  Lysara nodded, though there was reluctance in her eyes. She had grown fond of the vilge and its people. It had been a brief moment of peace, something she hadn’t known in months, and the thought of leaving it behind was bittersweet. Still, her instincts told her Val was right. The danger was closing in. They couldn't afford to stay and put the vilgers at risk.

  As they began preparing to leave, something caught Lysara’s eye—a figure appeared from nowhere, materializing in the midst of the vilge clearing.

  The figure was tall, his presence commanding, as if he were an embodiment of darkness itself. The air around him seemed to warp and twist as though the very fabric of reality bent to his will. His eyes gleamed with a cold, calcuting intelligence, and his body radiated power.

  Aris stepped forward, her golden eyes narrowing. “Who is this?”

  Lysara’s heart skipped a beat. There was something about him that felt... wrong. It wasn’t just the aura of danger around him, it was something deeper. She had a feeling he was no ordinary enemy.

  The man spoke with a deep, resonant voice. “I am Grand Marshal Varog, the Guardian of the Lycan King, and I’ve come for you.”

  Lysara tensed. The Grand Marshal Lycan. The strongest Lycan of them all. This was no ordinary threat. The rumors about Varog had always spoken of his unmatched strength. He was said to be a rival to Dracu himself, a force that even the most powerful beings feared.

  Before anyone could react, Varog raised his hand, and with a single motion, the entire vilge was engulfed in a storm of destruction. Houses crumbled, trees snapped in half, and the earth itself seemed to tremble under the force of his power. His strength was so overwhelming that even the earth seemed to buckle beneath his feet.

  Val’s eyes fshed with fury. This wasn’t just an attack—it was a statement. Varog was here to wipe everything out, to erase any trace of them being in this vilge.

  Lysara’s breath caught in her throat, but she didn’t cower. She gripped Val’s arm tightly. “We need to stop him,” she whispered.

  But Val was already stepping forward, his crimson eyes burning with rage. “This vilge didn’t deserve this,” he growled under his breath.

  However, his mind remained sharp and controlled, even in the face of such destruction. He gnced at Lysara. “Stay back,” he warned, his voice cold as ever.

  But Varog’s power was undeniable, and Val knew he couldn’t reveal his full strength in front of the vilgers. It would only bring more danger.

  He stood still, waiting for the right moment. The Grand Marshal Lycan’s eyes locked with Val's, recognizing the vampire before him. Varog’s grin widened, as if sensing the challenge Val presented.

  The air was thick with tension, the quiet before the storm settling uneasily over the small vilge. Varog, the Grand Marshal Lycan, stood towering over them, his presence a dark cloud, ominous and heavy. He exuded an unnatural aura, one that seemed to warp the space around him. His crimson eyes locked onto Val, the very air crackling with anticipation.

  Val, ever composed despite the pressure, straightened, his stance unwavering. His crimson eyes glowed softly as he looked at Varog with unyielding resolve. "My name is Valerius Dracul," he said, his voice cold but clear. "I am the son of the greatest vampire to ever live. And you, Varog, will not get the better of me."

  Varog chuckled, a low, menacing sound that rumbled through the air. "So, you are the son of Dracu," he mused, his lips curling into a sinister smile. "No wonder you're so confident. But confidence alone won't save you."

  The battle erupted with brutal force.

  Val moved first, his silver hair fshing as he lunged toward Varog, his sword aimed directly for his opponent’s heart. The speed and precision of his strike were unmatched—except for Varog, who effortlessly sidestepped, moving with unnatural speed and strength. Varog retaliated with a swipe of his massive cw, sending Val skidding backward.

  Despite Val’s extraordinary abilities, he was overwhelmed by Varog’s raw power. The difference between their strength was undeniable. Varog was not just any Lycan—he was a force of nature, perhaps as strong as Val’s father, Dracu, the most powerful vampire to ever exist. Val’s strikes seemed to do little against Varog’s monstrous form, and each blow from the Grand Marshal shook the very ground beneath them.

  "You're not strong enough," Varog taunted, his deep voice carrying the weight of centuries. "You are but a shadow of your father. And you will fall like all the rest."

  Seeing Val struggle, Aris transformed, her body rippling with the power of the Abyssal Lycan blood coursing through her veins. Her golden eyes turned pitch bck, and she lunged toward Varog with ferocity, cws extended, her howl reverberating through the air. But Varog simply swatted her away, sending her crashing into a nearby building.

  Lysara screamed, her heart breaking for Aris as she crumpled to the ground, the fierce Abyssal Lycan blood that flowed within her unable to stand against the overwhelming might of Varog.

  A blur of monstrous speed, his cwed hand sliced through the air toward Val’s throat. Steel met flesh—Val barely blocked the attack with his sword, but the force sent him skidding back, his boots carving into the dirt.

  Varog was fast—too fast. Each of his strikes came with monstrous strength, his blows shaking the very ground. Val countered with precision, dodging with the grace of a seasoned swordsman, but for every strike he avoided, another came twice as hard.

  "Val—!" Lysara called out, panic in her voice.

  In that moment of distraction, Varog seized the opening. A devastating punch connected with Val’s ribs. The impact sent him crashing through the side of a wooden house, debris exploding outward.

  Blood dripped from Val’s mouth.

  Varog stalked forward, unbothered.

  "You rely too much on control," he sneered. "You think you can fight me without unleashing your true power?"

  Val slowly pushed himself up, wiping the blood away with the back of his hand. His crimson eyes gleamed dangerously.

  "You're right," Val admitted. "I’m holding back."

  He dashed forward—this time, faster.

  A single strike—sharp, precise—cut through Varog’s armor, drawing blood. But Varog only grinned.

  “That’s more like it

  Varog is ready to strike back

  "No!" Lysara cried out, her voice shaky with emotion. She rushed toward Val, her golden eyes fshing with determination, though they were filled with worry. She pced herself between Varog and Val, ready to stop Val from fighting, even though she knew she was no match for this powerful Lycan.

  "Lysara!" Val snapped, his voice sharp and filled with frustration. "You’re being illogical again!"

  Lysara’s gaze softened, but there was an undeniable fire in her eyes. "I can’t let you die," she said, her voice trembling. *"You don’t understand. It’s not just about logic, Val. It's-

  Her voice cracked, the pain evident as she spoke from her heart. She wasn't thinking with her mind, but with her emotions. She had to protect him, because her heart wouldn’t allow her to do otherwise. "I’ll die with you if that’s what it takes! We should die together!"

  Val stared at her, his heart twisting in his chest, but he quickly pushed his emotions aside. "You can’t let your emotions drive you like this!" he shouted. "You’re not being logical!"

  But Lysara only shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes, though her voice remained steady. "And why shouldn't I? What good is logic when it's love we’re defending?" Her voice was nearly a shout, but it wasn’t anger—it was desperation. "If it’s my heart that makes me strong, then let it be my heart that guides me. I refuse to live in a world without you, Val!"

  For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The intensity of their emotions, the fierce love that bound them together, was almost tangible in the air. Val looked at her, seeing not just the woman he cared for, but the vulnerable, broken soul who had so much more to give than she realized. He knew that in this moment, his logic meant nothing. It was her heart that would save them both.

  With a deep, pained breath, Val stepped forward, his voice firm but filled with a rare tenderness. "Stay back."

  He closed his eyes, his voice low as he murmured an incantation, a teleportation spell that could transport them anywhere in the world. "I’ve only one chance to use this spell each year," he said as the air around them shimmered, and the world seemed to bend with energy. "But if this is what it takes to protect you, then so be it."

  A pulse of energy erupted from him, enveloping them in a blinding light. Varog roared in anger, but the spell had already taken hold. Within seconds, the vilge, the fight, and the danger disappeared. All that remained was the unknown.

  As the light faded and they found themselves standing on the edge of an unfamiliar ndscape, the weight of what had just happened settled in. The tension between Val and Lysara was palpable.

  "If you had this spell all along," Lysara asked, her voice soft but filled with awe, "why didn’t you use it before? You could have taken us anywhere."

  Val's expression softened, though he remained reserved. "I can only use this once a year. If I used it too often, there would be consequences—consequences that neither of us are ready to face."

  Lysara, though she understood, felt a deep sense of relief. They had escaped. For now.

  But somewhere in the distance, Varog’s roar echoed across the nd, and in the shadows, something dark stirred. The true battle was far from over.

  Val let out a long breath, his hands resting on his sword hilt as he looked around. "This will do for now," he muttered, his tone not showing any sign of relief but more of calcution. He had only teleported them a short distance away. As powerful as Varog was, the Grand Marshal Lycan was not someone they could fight head-on, not without a better strategy, or more strength.

  Aris groaned from where she was leaning against a nearby boulder, her Abyssal Lycan transformation starting to wear off. She wasn’t completely healed, but at least the worst of her injuries had subsided. "Are you sure this is safe?" she asked, clearly still shaken from her earlier battle.

  "It’s not about being safe," Val replied, his voice ft and logical. "It’s about surviving."

  Lysara, standing next to him, her arms wrapped around herself, nodded in agreement. "We needed the time," she said softly. "We couldn’t keep running forever."

  "Is this really the only way to escape him?" Aris asked, her golden eyes narrowing as she observed Val. "You’re telling me, you don’t think you stand a chance against him?"

  Val was quiet for a moment, his piercing crimson eyes distant. "I don’t know." His answer was cold, not in the sense of indifference, but in the kind of weariness that only those who have lived for centuries could understand. "Varog is as strong as my father, Dracu. Even if I use everything I have... it’s not certain who would win."

  He turned to look at Lysara, whose presence always had a way of grounding him, even when he was at his most uncertain. Her golden eyes met his with unspoken understanding. "But I will protect you," he said quietly. "No matter what it takes."

  Lysara didn’t respond immediately, but there was a soft smile on her lips—sad but grateful. She reached out and pced her hand on his arm, silently expressing her thanks.

  The group remained in the rocky pin for a few hours, resting and recovering their strength. Aris spent some time meditating, regaining the energy she had lost during the fight, while Lysara and Val sat in a quiet corner, the tter keeping a watchful eye on the horizon. They were not out of danger yet.

  Eventually, after they felt strong enough to travel again, they began moving. Their journey was quiet at first, the tension still hanging heavy in the air.

  The sun hung high, casting a warm glow across the nd as they continued their journey, the air fresh with the scent of distant fields. Lysara, though still weak, walked closer to Val, her hand lightly brushing against his as if grounding herself. Despite the lingering illness, her presence was as captivating as ever, and her eyes flickered between a mixture of golden hues, shifting in tune with her emotions.

  Aris, walking a little ahead, cast frequent gnces behind at the pair. She still couldn’t shake off her shock at how things were unfolding between Lysara and Val. Though Val maintained his cold, calcuting demeanor, there was a subtle difference in how he interacted with Lysara now. He still acted aloof, but whenever she said something pyful or teasing, he let it slide without his usual harsh rebuke.