CHAPTER 128: CHAPTER 128- EVANGELINE’S ARRIVAL

Cruxius called out, rushing forward.

He reached Ytrisia just as she collapsed onto one knee.

Her eyes were wide, panicked—but not from fear. From frustration. Her body was brimming with stored kinetic force—but the muscles wouldn’t move.

Her hands trembled violently as she tried to punch down and release energy—but the strength just wouldn’t channel.

Alath’s voice slithered through the mist like a ghost, cold and cruel: "Your power is useless... when you can’t even move your arms."

Cruxius reached her side and dropped low, checking her pulse quickly. Still strong—but the paralysis was spreading fast.

Behind them, the chandelier snapped its chain—crashing to the floor in a ring of glass.

Cruxius stood, arms flaring out to shield the fallen.

His voice sliced through the chaos, loud and sharp: "Ytrisia! Charge the floor with kinetic energy!"

Her eyes fluttered open, dazed. "I—I can’t—"

He grabbed her wrist, hard, his own body already shaking. "You don’t need precision. Just slam everything you’ve stored into the ground. Now."

The mist thickened—Alath’s form reforming behind them. His claws raised.

Ytrisia’s lips parted. Her teeth clenched.

Her fist slammed into the floor.

BOOOOM!

A burst of light erupted from her strike—not upward, but downward.

The entire office floor lit up with a deep violet glow, as the kinetic energy exploded into the stone beneath. The tiles cracked outward like a spiderweb, and a concussive blast rolled through the room.

It wasn’t a targeted strike—it was a field burst.

A shockwave of force detonated in all directions—but it came from below.

The mist wavered. Then shrieks.

Alath’s form destabilized mid-lunge, scattered by the floor-based energy. His body flew back, crashing against the far wall—half-solid, half-vapor, screaming as the kinetic force slammed against his bones.

The metallic stench evaporated almost instantly.

The room cleared.

Cruxius staggered, coughing, dragging Ermond closer to the still-conscious maid. He looked up.

Ytrisia had collapsed again—exhausted, blood dripping from her nose—but breathing.

The others were stirring too.

And the vampire?

Cruxius turned his head. When he opened his eyes to widen, clearly in front of him stood a woman, a woman with unique silver hair and red ruby eyes, revealing her identity too vividly for him to just ignore it.

Cruxius blinked.

The wall where Alath had crashed was cracked, stone crumbled, blood smeared—but the vampire wasn’t there anymore.

Instead—

She stood there.

Tall. Regal. Effortlessly still.

Silver hair cascading like liquid metal down her back, swaying though there was no wind. Her dress was black and tight along her torso, draping open behind her like a court of shadows. Eyes—deep crimson, ringed in gold—locked onto him.

And in her hand...

She held a severed head.

Alath’s.

His long hair now stained, fangs bared even in death. His mouth twitched slightly, a vestigial nerve spasm—and then his eyelids snapped open. Eyes rolled to the side, toward the woman holding him.

"Q-Queen?" His voice was hoarse. Hollow. "What are you doing... here—"

The head trembled.

Then screamed.

Red mist burst violently from Alath’s eyes, mouth, even his open neck—ripping free like a soul being dragged to hell. The mist spiraled around the woman’s arm, curling like a serpent up toward her shoulder, then into her chest.

She didn’t flinch.

Didn’t breathe.

She simply absorbed him.

His power.

His essence.

And when it was done...

Only a clean, white skull remained in her grasp. Dry. Empty.

She let it fall. It hit the ground with a light clink—and turned to ash.

Silence.

Even the air itself seemed to hold its breath.

Cruxius’s throat clicked as he straightened. His fingers flexed slightly near his coat pocket, as if reaching for something—but he didn’t pull it out.

Instead, he spoke with a strained calm. "I wasn’t aware your kind walked into rooms already cleaned up for you."

The woman didn’t respond at first.

Her gaze traveled lazily across the room—fallen soldiers, broken desks, shattered glass. Her eyes lingered on Ytrisia for only a second... then returned to Cruxius.

Her voice was smooth, yet biting. "You don’t look that impressive."

Cruxius exhaled a slow breath, a corner of his mouth twitching. Not quite a smirk.

"Most women say that after the first night."

Stillness.

No reaction.

Just those red eyes. Watching. Measuring.

He took a step forward, subtly angling his body in front of the others behind him. While clearly his eyes were fixated on the pendant the woman wore, showing the remnants of energy signature which were vivid to him, and even the memories buried deep formed an amusement hidden within as he felt how gruesome and anger-filled reaction would her other self trapped in that pendant be giving right now.

"So," he continued, tone lighter than the weight pressing down on the room. "You are the Queen."

"Yes." Evangeline, looking towards the young man in front of her, possessing the bloodline of the blood moon, didn’t feel as intrigued as she was from the fact that maybe her other self was trying to guide her towards him, but after observing him she realized that just like her other half trapped in the pendant, he was too at the same level weak.

Overall, it was understandable that her other weak self would attract someone befitting of her.

’!’

"Someone from thirteen major families... no, not someone but one of the heads?" The voice belonged to the head of the Blac family, who naturally until now had been humiliated against his pride, which definitely made him firm as he kept a firm look towards the woman given her physical appearance, reminding him of the race which he might hate the most in the present.

Simply because, after all years of effort, when he thought that maybe they would have forgotten about Cruxius, they suddenly sent someone to demand his arrival for that cutthroat battle where, naturally being a human, he would be killed.

He just gave a firm look to that woman, not even flinching from the killing intent emitting from her, though she did not direct it towards him, but for anyone, if they were able to use logic, the energy was clearly evident.

"Raekin Blac, shouldn’t you be aware that I am not looking at you?" Evangeline, without even turning her gaze, firmly gave an order to the head of the Blac family to tell him not to interrupt in the middle when she was observing the young man whom she was going to choose as her consort.

Evangeline’s words hung in the air like a guillotine—sharp, cold, final.

Raekin Blac’s jaw tightened, his pride visibly wounded, but he didn’t respond. He only took a half-step back, clasping his hands behind him in silence, like a reprimanded wolf forced to bow to a larger predator.

Cruxius, however, seemed entirely unaffected by the tension.

He casually shifted his weight to one side, hands sliding into his coat pockets as if this was nothing more than a bothersome conversation at a late banquet.

Yet, his eyes never left hers.

"You came all this way," he said, his voice low and smooth, "for a consort?"

Evangeline turned now, fully—her eyes half-lidded, unreadable. She began walking toward him with slow, echoing steps, each one unnervingly deliberate.

She stopped a few paces away.

She stared at him for a long moment.

And then, just as suddenly, turned away.

The click of her heels against broken tile sounded softer now, almost... thoughtful. She stopped halfway toward the ruined doors.

"Come," she ordered quietly, not looking back. "You’re accompanying me."

Cruxius raised an eyebrow, but didn’t move just yet.

"Fine," he replied after a beat, his voice once again languid—far too calm, as if the weight of royalty didn’t press on his shoulders at all. "But that girl will go with me."

Evangeline paused mid-step.

Slowly, her head turned.

"What girl?"

A voice came from the doorway—soft, shaken.

"I—I... Cruxius...?"

All eyes turned.

There, standing like a trembling painting at the edge of a war-torn canvas, was a young woman.

Pink hair, tousled and clinging to her cheeks from sweat. A traditional maid’s outfit dirtied from ash and dust, its frills still intact despite the chaos. She stood stiffly, eyes wide with a mixture of confusion, horror, and disbelief.

Evangeline’s gaze locked onto her like a sword.

Her brows lifted slowly.

Then narrowed.

"Wasn’t the woman you were with, like a rabbit, supposed to have black hair?"

The room froze.

"....So that’s what happened," Cruxius finally understood why the Queen would send someone after him. It turns out that the pendant, most probably the one trapped within her other half, would have used Clairvoyance, sharing the dream vision of him being with Selena to her, prompting the Queen to take this action.

It was like the heavens’ way of dealing with things, given he awakened Selina, but at the same time, things became too fast. The butterfly effect kicked in in a way that was unexpected to him, leading to such a situation arising where he now stood in front of this woman whom he should have met in the following year.

But whatever it was, it was for the better, prompting him to shrug his shoulders before calmly saying, "Black, Pink, or even Silver, what does it matter when there would be the same colored liquid coming out of their bodies at those times?"

He moved towards Lira, whose mouth was twitching, including Ytrisie, who stood as if both of them, who heard what all this meant, clearly realized that Cruxius was definitely with some women they didn’t know.

"Hm, fine, bring whoever you want, but be mindful, humans have a strange scent... one that might just lure other Vampires, thinking you are offering a banquet."