Third person point of view:
At the Edevane mansion. Lilia opened her eyes moments before Nathaniel and Novem were teleported; she heard an explosion in the distance. Her straight hair snaked across her pillow and the bed where she slept. In the dim light of her private quarters, her crimson irises glowed. Her face creased into a frown. She had a creepy feeling in her chest, which was visible as beads of sweat on her brow. Lilia rose from her bed and gazed out her window at night.
"Agnes." She spoke, her ethereal voice piercing the dimension and reaching the shadow dimension as a soft whisper.
The shadows gathered, and a serious woman manifested. "Yes, Master Lilia."
"Are Nate and Charlotte back yet?"
"No, master Lilia."
Lilia manipulated the magic of the atmosphere before the shadow servant could say anything else. She levitated into the air, her face solemn as she gazed into the distance. She flew through the window like a missile, leaving a gust of air that shook the room's reddish curtains. Her silhouette in a black robe was lost in the darkness.
The shadow servant who stayed behind, vanished. She ran to call an urgent meeting with the rest of the shadow squadrons.
Meanwhile, Lilia was soaring high above the starry sky, which was changing from dark blue to light blue as the sun rose in a few minutes. The wind was howling at breakneck speed and the temperature was dropping significantly. Lilia, on the other hand, was normal; the wind avoided her as if it was afraid to disturb her. Her black robe disintegrated into golden particles, and a light armor took its place. Her breastplate only covered her chest, with a few additional pieces on her shoulders and thighs. She wore black leather armor where she needed more mobility. Her black belt was adorned with an ornate golden sword studded with red gems.
Lilia looked around at the city beneath her feet. She was in charge of the city of Luria in her territory. But her cold gaze was no longer that of the kindly ruler known to the commoners; it was the gaze of a warrior.
The city was divided into four main roads that converged on a square with an angel statue. Luria was so vast that even Lilia struggled to thoroughly inspect each district with her enhanced vision. The first sectors she examined revealed nothing unusual. It wasn't until her gaze reached the southern district that she noticed the location of the explosion.
In her vision, a gray patch represented a zone of destruction. Several figures were fighting in a battle, and Lilia shuddered as she saw her son face a man who clearly had bloodlust for him.
She propelled herself forward with wind magic, creating a thunderous sound that echoed throughout the city like an alarm signaling her presence. She was approaching the scene at a breakneck pace. She narrowed her eyes as she felt a surge of energy and nervously watched as lightning flashed over a shadow servant. Lilia accelerated her pace as she realized the extent of this man's power. At the same time, she wondered how she hadn't heard anything before, but everything became clear when she passed through a certain area. The man had created a wind barrier to muffle the noise.
Lilia frowned and increased her speed. She arrived at what appeared to be a gray patch in the sky and landed with a loud rumble. But when she looked through the brown dust, she saw something that made her blood run cold.
Her son, Nathaniel Edevane, was being kidnapped; Novem was grasping his ankle, but her condition was critical, and the majority of the shadow squadron was incapacitated. The teleportation stone glowed bright white as it prepared to do its job.
Even so, Lilia was not the type of woman to give up easily. She noticed Charlotte and quickly separated herself from her by enclosing her in an ice dome, shielding her from any collateral damage she was about to cause.
Now, without fear, Lilia spread her arms and swirled the atmosphere's magic, slurping in all the surrounding energy like a black hole sucking in everything in its path. Lilia gradually spread her arms apart, controlling one element with each hand; the wind and gravity became one. Her eyes glowed bright red as she attempted to cancel the teleportation spell by absorbing it and executing it using wind magic as a mediator to burn the surplus and disturb space with gravity. Debris was absorbed and compacted to barely perceptible levels on Lilia's back, forming a gravitational whirlpool with the very air trembling as she absorbed the teleportation magic.
Even so, the spell was already too advanced. It was impossible to cancel. Lilia made one last move, directing her gravitational pressure directly at the man who had caused all of this, hoping to disrupt his space travel in some way. She heard a pained grunt, but the three then vanished. An angry Lilia was left with a pressure that seemed to vibrate the space around her.
The knights encircling the area approached, as did Alea and the survivors of the shadow squadron, who were in a terrible manner. They shuddered as they noticed the whirlpool sucking everything behind Lilia, but she quickly cancelled it, allowing the soldiers who were starting to suffocate to breathe calmly.
A shadowy servant approached. She held on her bleeding left arm and bowed, "Sorry, Master Lilia."
Lilia floated gently in the air instead of responding. She arrived at the location where Charlotte was being cared for by a group of shadow servants. "What happened to her?"
" She passed out but hasn't awakened yet." A woman with short hair spoke tentatively. She gave her companions a hesitant look. "We believe... she is awakening her bloodline."
"What?"
(***)
A room that was dark, cold, and damp. The dripping walls made a rhythmic sound that was both depressing and soothing. A bright flash, however, interrupted the soothing sound and peace. For a brief moment, the light illuminated every corner of the room, revealing some boxes and other items besides the stone wall.
A boy and woman appeared seemingly from nowhere. The crash of both bodies to the floor echoed. A sharp, gasping breath filled the room immediately after that. The rasping sound of a throat closing and blocking airflow. There was also a woman moaning in pain. Making a symphony of painful sounds.
The female figure crawled over to the boy's body, which was struggling to breathe in the darkness. She ignored her own pain and bleeding in order to check on the boy's condition. "Young master…" She said, her voice tired and a little pained.
She received no response, only increasingly labored breathing, possibly due to a lack of oxygen. Nathaniel, her young master, was in terrible shape. The energy overload wracked his body, and his lungs were damaged. His clothes were soaked in blood, and he appeared to be dying at any moment.
Novem was in no better shape. She looked better than Nathaniel, but she had a deep wound in her abdomen that was constantly bleeding. Still, she didn't let down her guard, ready to attack even with her almost non-existent magical reserves, because the man who attacked them should be nearby, according to her. Novem had no idea why they hadn't teleported together, but she could only be thankful that they are alone, because she couldn't defend herself or her young master under these circumstances.
Novem rummaged through her pockets, knowing Nathaniel didn't have much time. She patted her chest and ankles, slightly grunting from the pain in her abdomen; she had hoped to find something, but all of the medicinal potion bottles were either broken or empty. When she noticed Nathaniel's breathing becoming faster and shorter, she became despairing. She emptied her dimensional ring as a last resort, and to her luck, there were three potions among all her possessions, but they were of low efficacy, so a larger amount would be required to heal wounds, especially if they were as severe as the her young master's.
She looked at the vials in her bloodstained hands, then to her wound, which was staining her clothes, and finally to her young master. Her clan's loyalty clashed with her survival instinct, which told her she would die if she didn't drink at least one of these potions. But in the end, her devotion to Nathaniel triumphed. Her master, after all, was more valuable than her life. For as long as she could remember, she had been taught this.
She groaned and moved her body closer to Nathaniel's. She stretched her hand towards his blood-stained face, stretched out her pale fingers and opened Nathaniel's mouth. She moved her other hand to pour the thick, greenish liquid into his mouth, but she stopped herself because the way her young master was breathing made her doubt he could take the potions. After a brief moment of idea, only one thought occurred to her.
When Novem removed the cork from the bottle, it made a satisfying sound. She drew the potion to her mouth and poured the liquid into it, swallowing nothing. She moved closer to Nathaniel, holding his chin. In an unconventional kiss, she held his nose with one hand while pouring the liquid directly down his throat. Nathaniel choked at first, but he had no choice but to swallow the strange liquid mixed with some of Novem's saliva.
She checked to make sure Nathaniel hadn't left anything behind, and as she drew away from him, a silvery trickle of saliva connected their mouths. Novem couldn't help but feel embarrassed, even though she knew it was only out of necessity. But she went through the process again and again until all three vials were finished.
Nathaniel's breathing improved slightly after that. His brow, which had been furrowed in agony, relaxed slightly. Still, Novem worried; it would be a slow process, and he would be completely healed in a day or so. Could she last that long?
Novem moved Nathaniel's body with care. Carrying him to a corner of the room where the entrance (which was just a rectangle with no door) was barely visible, they used a wooden box to provide cover. She leaned against the wall, the cold and dampness of the stone on her back. She sighed, and her warm breath vaporized in the air.
The stabbing pain in her abdomen returned, and she decided it was time to treat herself so she wouldn't die quickly. She took a deep breath and carefully removed her shirt, grunting each time the blood-soaked fabric brushed against her wound. Her chest was exposed, revealing her makeshift bra, which was nothing more than a rolled-up white bandage. Novem lowered her gaze to her abdomen, her breathing now somewhat irregular and her forehead sweaty. Her smooth skin, like her defined abdomen, had a large cross cut that was constantly bleeding now that she didn't have anything to stop or at least slow the bleeding.
Novem used some of her magic to wash her wound after quickly deciding on her course of action. After that, she unrolled the bandages that were covering her chest, causing both breasts to tremble slightly. Novem finally removed the bandage. Sweat slid down her neck, covering the two tits that had been exposed. The sweat bead slid over the curved, smooth, pale surface, skirting the nipple, circling a pink aerola, and meandering a little on the uneven ground before landing on the floor.
Her breathing was heavy and warm, and she grunted slightly as she applied bandages to her wound that had previously served as an improvised bra. The bandages turned crimson quickly, but the bleeding stopped, causing her to sigh in relief.
Novem slowly pulled her shirt back on, her liberated breasts pressed against her black shirt, and her figure was more exquisite than before, but her pained grimace took away much of the charm. She moved closer to Nathaniel and lightly stroked his hair, resisting the urge to fall asleep as she watched the one entrance intently, her hand poised to cast the powerful spells her meager reserves would allow.
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(***)
Nathaniel's point of view:
Pain. The agony I was feeling right now was unlike anything I'd ever felt before, and I despised every second of it. My consciousness was gradually returning. My ears were filled with the sound of a drop hitting the water.
I jerked open my eyes. I was greeted by a grayish ceiling, but the room was mostly dark with no source of illumination. My chest felt like it was burning with each breath I took. It felt like I was breathing in fire. I couldn't help but groan, but it appeared that I wasn't the only one in the room.
"Young master…" Novem's voice rang out.
She was present. I felt a lot better. When I turned to face the voice, my eyes widened like saucers. Novem was deathly pale, with a pool of blood beneath her. Her black eyes were slightly blurry, and she appeared to be fighting the urge to pass out… or pass away.
I shifted my weight. Even though it was screaming at me to rest, I gritted my teeth and moved closer to her side. I took her hand in mine. She was icy. This was wrong.
Novem tried to speak, but I stopped her by placing a finger over her parched lips. I quickly contacted the system in the hopes of curing her.
'System! Buy the most expensive healing potion you have!" I mentally yelled.
[Insufficient points. Host 1 does not have 72,000 affection points to purchase 'Healing potion {divine].
'What?!' I couldn't believe it. It was too pricey. Did it bring the dead back to life? I inhaled deeply. My mood has improved. 'Just get something that will cure her or at the very least stabilize her.'
In my trembling hand, a vial appeared. Inside, a greenish liquid swirled. [Minor healing potion reduces -2,000 affection points.]
I grabbed Novem's head by the back of her neck. She was staring at me through misty eyes, but she appeared to be aware. I leaned back her head and raised the vial to her lips, touching the rim of the potion to her lips. Her warm breath touched my fingers, and she looked at me for a second before taking the contents of the vial, trusting me.
Novem began to nod off. Her eyelids were closing and opening slowly. She was fighting sleep, but I could see some color returning to her face, so it was safe. "You can rest." I spoke while kissing her on the cheek.
It was a spontaneous kiss with pure intentions; I had no affection points in mind at the time. Novem's weak breathing improved slightly when she fell asleep. I sighed in relief, but it was a poor choice when I tightened up from the agony caused by my wounds. I crawled next to her, curling up against her to keep the warmth between us. I had no idea where we were, but the cold was brutal. I collapsed on her shoulder, careful not to touch her mending wound.
(***)
The sound of footsteps in the distance jolted me awake. As the sounds of a conversation in the distance grew closer, I raised my body lethargically and somewhat sorely. To check Novem's condition, I turned my head, reaching out my hands and touching her forehead.
The color of her skin had improved significantly, and although her forehead was sweaty and her beautiful face was slightly contorted in pain, the potion was working.
I got up slowly, grunting as little as possible to avoid alerting the approaching people. My magical power was nearly intact, so at the very least I could fight. In the dim light, I moved slowly and quietly to one side of the room's entrance. I had to surprise them in some way. I knew whoever was here wasn't an ally, and Novem couldn't defend herself. It was my turn to do it for her.
'System, buy two poisoned arrows'.
The arrows appeared in my hands, dripping black liquid from the arrowhead. I crouched my body, hiding behind a large box near the entrance. Even though the pain with every movement was unbearable, I had to do it, I had to protect Novem, at all costs.
The footsteps got close enough for me to hear their voices. "Belora hasn't arrived."
"Maybe he wasn't even invited this time" The other voice laughed, lighter than the last.
The light from a luminous stone was approaching, and the light allowed me to see a somewhat narrow corridor. The men were only a few meters away from where I was standing. I took a deep breath. I prepared to attack by sending a slight magical pulse into my body. The pain was back, but this time it was more intense. It was as if hot lava was directly in my veins. My entire body was so hot that I was afraid it would catch fire at any moment.
The shadow of one of them became visible first, and it was then that I realized they were walking slightly apart rather than shoulder to shoulder. My mind was racing with scenarios, but I knew my best chance of survival would be if I could stab them both at the same time. This scenario did not bode well for me.
I squeezed hard on the shaft of one of the arrows, making a small creak to indicate my nervousness. A figure entered the opening that served as a door. I hid under the box, not breathing to prevent being detected.
The man with brown hair passed in front of me, shining a luminous stone flashlight in my direction, but shrugged when he didn't see anything.
When the next man crossed, I leaped into the air, aiming the arrow at his neck, before anything else could happen. His blue eyes widened like saucers when he saw me, but it was too late. I clung to his back while wrapping my legs around his trunk and pinning one arm with my free hand. We stumbled backwards, and the person in front of us noticed the situation, but it was too late.
When I removed the arrow, blood poured out. I rolled onto my back, crawling out from under the man who had his hands on his neck. The man in front of him was stunned as he watched his companion try and fail to plug the bleeding hole, blood spurting between his fingers. The man died with choking sounds as his veins turned black near the wound.
I took advantage of the brown-haired man's stupor and jumped like a cat directly at his neck, my body screaming for me to stop, but my willpower triumphed.
The man jerked awake, scowled, and swung a roundhouse kick at my approaching figure. "You're fucked!"
The strong kick came perilously close to my head. It was too late to avoid the blow, so I raised my guard. The oxygen left my lungs when I thudded into the room's stone wall. I collided with the floor, gasping for air. Without waiting for me to recover, I was grabbed by the neck and lifted up, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth. I came face to face with the man.
"I'm going to kill you!" He made a threat. He made a huge mistake. You should end this quickly if you have time to threaten.
The man got down on one knee. In perplexity, he looked down at his leg. He mistook me for easy prey. He did, however, open his eyes wide and realized what had occurred. Two poisoned arrows were lodged in his leg. He was dead, and he was aware of it. But he appeared to be a strong-willed individual. He drew back his fist while holding me by the neck with one hand, holding me in my worn-out position. He seemed to want to take me to the afterlife with him.
His fist was stone-coated, forming a gauntlet that could easily kill someone with a single blow. The fist made its way to my face, but I used the skills I'd in hand-to-hand combat.
I pushed my legs forward, ignoring the pain all over my body. I let his fist come towards me, and when it was about to hit, I used magic to strengthen my leg and kick his elbow hard, deflecting the fist slightly as I dislocated it. Nonetheless, I received a minor cut on my cheek. He let go of me instinctively, and I took advantage of the opportunity to hit him hard in the neck.
He was overcome by the pain he was experiencing, and he simply fell backwards, his eyes rolling back in his head
The room was silent once more, but this time it was illuminated by a luminous stone. I felt a little blood on the back of my head, but I ignored it because all I wanted at the time was to sleep…
'I hope Charlotte is okay.' It was the last thing I thought before passing out.