Valeria reappeared just before the looming silhouette of the Black Fortress, the escape token having done its job. The backlash hit her like a crashing wave—the exhaustion from the teleportation and the abrupt end of her boosting skill overwheld her all at once. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the cold, dark stone. Never in her life had she felt so utterly drained. Her limbs trembled as she tried to push herself upright, but her strength failed her.
Then the weight of reality sank in.
They had lost.
Over twenty thousand undead beasts and twenty-five hundred vampires, yet still, it hadn’t been enough. Many of her kin had likely held back, lurking in the rear ranks, unwilling to gamble their lives against the fortress's ferocious defenses and those cursed skyships. Still, how had they failed to break through? They had co so close. Without that human… the base would have fallen. It was that simple. The Sanguine Thorn beneath her heart still quivered, reacting in primal fear to the re presence of the thorn the human had wielded.
That had never happened before.
The vampiric plant was usually insatiable, eager to feast on anything with blood coursing through its veins. But in that mont, it had cowered, refusing to act unless Valeria forced it to. What disturbed her even more, what twisted sothing sharp and cold in her chest, was that the human bore Serine’s eyes. Serine had once been the most gifted among them in evolving and mastering ocular abilities. And now she was gone, her legacy stolen, her power claid by a mortal.
Valeria had seen the man’s soul—it shimred with strength. Even with her mind shielded in preparation, his ntal presence had left her vision flickering and fractured, dark motes dancing at the edges of her sight. She had turned her own gaze ability on him, and yet… it was as though he hadn’t noticed. He simply brushed it aside. That shouldn't have been possible.
She wondered how many vampires had perished. Six hundred? Maybe more. A staggering loss. There were still nearly four thousand of them at this stage—but that was a drop in the ocean compared to the human population. If the reports were accurate, even fewer elves remained. Looking back, perhaps the other vampires’ decision to hang back had been wise. She, however, had charged forward… and now she had failed. Her standing among the undead, especially within the council, would be fractured.
She should have returned as the most powerful undead in this war. Instead, she returned injured and humbled. Her strength would return soon enough, but her political capital? That would take much longer to recover—if ever. Her enemies within the undead ranks would celebrate her failure behind closed doors. Not openly, of course. She was still too strong for that. But their joy would be real.
And now, she had to report to the council. They needed to prepare. She doubted the humans would dare attack the Black Fortress—ti was against them, and the catacombs remained their most pressing threat. The fortress was heavily fortified, a fortress-city built for siege, protected by enchanted walls and powerful artillery. Its greatest asset, however, was its massive teleportation circles—key structures that allowed rapid deploynt of undead beasts to whichever catacomb needed them most.
The battle may have been lost. But the war? It was far from over. And things still looked grim for the humans. Once Ankhet awakened, she would return—and this ti, that human leader would die. After all, he was just a man. No matter how much he had grown, there were only days left in this special quest. It wouldn’t be enough.
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