I won't fall for the queen who burned my world-Chapter 189: You should have run

Malvoria does not hesitate.

The first rebel barely has time to react before she moves—her sword a deadly blur, cutting through flesh and bone.

The scent of charred fabric and seared flesh fills the air as her blade carves through his torso, the heat of her magic cauterizing the wound even as she rends him apart.

They had dared to attack her kingdom.

Dared to harm her people.

Dared to endanger Elysia.

She won’t allow a single one of them to leave alive.

The moment the body hits the floor, another rebel lunges at her, blade flashing in the dim firelight. Malvoria pivots sharply, her grey eyes gleaming as she sidesteps his wild slash and retaliates with surgical precision.

Her sword finds his throat in a single, elegant motion—a diagonal arc of death. The rebel gasps, eyes wide, clawing at his ruined windpipe before crumpling onto the cracked marble floor.

The next wave comes fast.

Four of them. Then five. Then more.

The corridor is a storm of movement, the clash of steel a savage symphony of war. Malvoria is a whirlwind among them, her blade dancing between bodies, her strikes as fluid as they are merciless.

She turns the rebels’ momentum against them, parrying blows and countering with brutal efficiency.

One rebel swings at her back—she whirls, catching the blade against her own with a shower of sparks, then thrusts her free hand forward. Heat surges through her veins, power coiling at her fingertips like a viper ready to strike.

Fire erupts.

A spear of molten light explodes from her palm, piercing the attacker’s chest and pinning him to the crumbling stone wall. He screams as fire consumes him from the inside out.

Another rushes her from the side. Malvoria lets him come.

Just before he strikes, her presence shifts. The air turns thick, heavy, suffocating.

Demonic power floods the corridor.

The rebels freeze. Their bodies lock, their breath hitching in their throats. For a single, terrifying moment, they are caught in the web of her unnatural presence—the sheer, overwhelming force of her lineage.

Malvoria’s voice is velvet-wrapped steel. "You should have run."

She moves.

The temperature in the corridor spikes as she summons her magic. Fire erupts at her command, swirling and forging weapons from the air itself.

Blades of flame.

Swords born from hellfire.

The burning weapons orbit her like an infernal halo, their edges gleaming, hungry. She lifts a single hand—her fingers twitch—and the blades launch forward.

The first sword finds its home in a rebel’s chest. The second slices through another’s neck in a clean, searing arc. More follow, raining down with merciless precision, striking like fangs sinking into flesh.

The rebels fall.

Still, more come.

A group of six, then ten charging forward with reckless abandon. One of them roars, "Bring her down! Now!"

Malvoria snarls, stepping protectively in front of Elysia. She will not let them reach her.

She tightens her grip on her sword. "You are welcome to try."

They attack.

She meets them in a storm of steel and fire.

A blade comes for her ribs—she turns, ducks, slashes upward. The rebel’s body falls in two pieces before he can even scream. frёeweɓηovel.coɱ

Another swings a war hammer—she sidesteps at the last moment, letting it smash into the floor. In the same motion, she drives her blade into his back, twisting it before yanking it free.

A spear-wielding rebel lunges for Elysia—Malvoria is faster.

She throws one of her flaming swords. It impales the attacker mid-step, sending him skidding backward, pinned to the floor like an insect beneath glass.

Elysia flinches but does not look away.

She is strong. But Malvoria can see it—the fear in her eyes.

This is war.

This is what Malvoria was born into.

But Elysia was not. So Malvoria was going to her best to not let Elysia get hurt by those stupid fool of rebels.

Malvoria grits her teeth as she pivots back toward the remaining rebels. "You’re persistent. I’ll give you that."

The last three hesitate, seeing the bodies of their fallen comrades burning around them. One tightens his grip on his blade and sneers. "We were told you were strong."

Malvoria smiles—a slow, dangerous thing. "Oh?"

She steps forward. They step back.

"Who told you?" Her voice is deceptively soft. Dangerous.

The rebel does not answer. Malvoria could get some information from them or maybe not it would take too much time and right now that what they didn’t have.

She lifts her sword. "No matter. You will not live long enough to tell them they were right."

She attacks with devastating finality.

The last of the rebels fall in seconds.

Silence follows. The crackling flames above them are the only sound. The scent of blood, smoke, and burnt flesh lingers in the air.

Malvoria turns.

Elysia is standing still, staring at the bodies. Her hands are clenched at her sides. Her breathing is steady, but there is something in her eyes—something unsettled.

Malvoria steps close. "Are you hurt?"

Elysia shakes her head. "No."

But Malvoria isn’t convinced. She reaches out, tilting Elysia’s chin gently so their eyes meet. "Talk to me."

For a moment, Elysia says nothing. Then, finally—

"There were too many of them," she murmurs. "They moved like soldiers. Not desperate rebels. They were trained."

Malvoria’s stomach tightens. She had noticed the same thing.

And something more.

Not all of the fallen rebels bled like humans.

A few of them had bled black.

Demonic black.

Which meant—some demons had participated.

And worse, they had sided with the rebels.

Her grip on her sword tightens. Who led this attack? Where is Zera? Is this just the beginning?

And most importantly—how can she get Elysia to safety?

Because despite Elysia’s strength, she isn’t trained for war.

And Malvoria refuses to let anything happen to her.

She grips Elysia’s hand. "We need to get to the throne room. It’s the most fortified part of the palace."

Elysia nods, but Malvoria notices something in her expression—something unsettled.

There’s no time to question it.

They have to move.