Raising Beast Cubs to Find a Husband-Chapter 109: The Void Beasts.

Day one of the Journey.

The carriage rattled over the frozen earth, the wheels groaning in protest against the uneven terrain.

Outside, the world had been stripped of color. The lush forests of the capital had given way to the jagged, teeth-like peaks of the Whispering Mountains. The snow here wasn’t the soft, romantic fluff of the Solstice. It was hard, driven by a biting wind that howled like a dying animal.

Inside the carriage, the temperature was dropping rapidly.

Primrose sat on the velvet bench, wrapping a thick fur blanket tighter around Caspian’s shoulders.

The King was shivering violently. His skin, usually pale, had taken on a translucent, grey quality. The black veins of the corruption had spread past his collar, creeping up his neck like ivy, pulsing with a sickly, dark rhythm.

"How far?" Caspian rasped, his eyes squeezed shut.

"We just passed the Mile Marker," Primrose lied softly. "We’re making good time."

They weren’t. The snow was getting deeper, slowing the horses to a crawl. And worse, there was a sound—a low, vibrating thrum—that seemed to be coming from the air itself.

It was the sound of the Void.

Caspian opened his eyes. The teal irises were dull, clouded by a swirling black mist.

"They are coming," he whispered.

"Who?" Primrose asked, reaching for the dagger Rajah had insisted she take (she had hidden it in her boot).

"The scavengers," Caspian gripped his chest. "The void... it calls to them. I am a beacon, Primrose. I am ringing a dinner bell for every monster in the dark."

SCREEECH.

The carriage lurched violently to the left. The horses screamed—a high, terrifying sound of pure panic.

"Driver!" Primrose shouted, banging on the roof. "What’s happening?"

There was no answer.

Suddenly, the roof of the carriage buckled. Wood splintered. Something heavy had landed on top of them.

"Get down!" Caspian roared.

He threw himself over Primrose just as a massive, clawed hand punched through the wooden ceiling.

It wasn’t a hand of flesh and bone. It was made of shifting, oily smoke, solidified into a razor-sharp limb. A Void Beast.

The creature ripped the roof open like it was wet paper.

Primrose screamed as the cold wind rushed in. She looked up and saw it—a wolf-like monstrosity the size of a bear, but with no face, just a gaping maw of white static where a mouth should be.

The carriage hit a patch of black ice. It spun out of control.

CRASH.

The world tumbled. Primrose felt weightlessness, then a brutal impact as the carriage rolled into a snowbank.

Silence.

Then, the sound of Caspian coughing—a wet, hacking cough.

"Caspian!" Primrose scrambled out of the wreckage. She was bruised, her head spinning, but the adrenaline was screaming at her to move.

She dragged Caspian out into the snow. He collapsed onto his knees, spitting out black ichor onto the pristine white ground.

They were in a small clearing, surrounded by towering cliffs. And they were not alone.

From the shadows of the trees, eyes appeared. Red, glowing, glitchy eyes.

One. Three. Ten.

A pack of Void Beasts emerged. They didn’t walk; they flickered forward, glitching in and out of existence like a corrupted video file.

"Go," Caspian wheezed, trying to stand. He stumbled. "Primrose... run."

"No," Primrose said, her voice shaking but her feet planted. She pulled out the small iron dagger. It looked laughably small against the monsters. "I’m not leaving you."

"I said GO!" Caspian shouted.

He raised his hand. Desperation fueled him.

"Leviathan Art: Glacial Wall!"

He tried to summon a shield of ice. But instead of the clear, blue mana of the ocean, a torrent of black sludge erupted from his palm.

The magic backfired.

BOOM.

The corrupted mana exploded in his face, knocking him backward. Caspian cried out, clutching his arm. The black veins flared, burning him from the inside out. The magic wasn’t obeying him anymore; it was eating him.

"Caspian!" Primrose dropped her dagger and rushed to him.

"It... it won’t listen," Caspian gasped, staring at his blackened hand in horror.

The Void Beasts sensed the weakness. They circled closer, their static-mouths widening in anticipation. They could smell the dying Star-Iron. They were hungry.

Primrose stood in front of the fallen King. She had no magic. She had no sword. She only had a rusted key in her pocket and a dagger she barely knew how to hold.

This is it, she thought, watching the Alpha Beast crouch for a pounce. This is the Bad Ending. Game Over.

She looked down at Caspian. He was barely conscious, murmuring Orion’s name.

"I’m sorry," Primrose whispered to him, gripping the dagger with both hands. "I couldn’t save us."

The Alpha Beast roared—a sound like tearing metal—and leaped.

Primrose squeezed her eyes shut.

WHOOSH.

CLANG.

The impact never came.

Instead, the air cracked with the sound of a thunderclap.

Primrose opened her eyes.

Hanging in the air, right in front of her face, was a shimmering, translucent geometric barrier. It was made of glowing, mathematical equations—triangles and hexagons interlocking in a perfect shield. It shone with a brilliant Gold light.

The Void Beast had slammed into it and was thrown backward, dazed.

"Calculated trajectory: Intercepted," a cool, familiar voice echoed from the cliff above.

Primrose gasped. She looked up.

Standing on the ridge, silhouetted against the grey sky, was a figure in a long, flowing robe, adjusting a monocle that gleamed like a star.

Archduke Cassian.

"You..." Primrose breathed.

Before she could finish, the shadows on the ground began to boil.

The darkness under the Void Beasts stretched and twisted. It turned a deep, royal Purple.

"The darkness does not belong to the Void," a silky voice whispered from everywhere and nowhere. "It belongs to the Panther."

Duke Lucien materialized from the shadow of a tree directly behind the pack. He raised a hand. The shadows turned into spikes, impaling three beasts instantly.

The remaining monsters panicked. They turned to run.

ROAR.

From the treeline, a massive shape exploded into the clearing. It was a Wolf. But not a normal wolf. This beast was the size of a carriage, with fur like iron wire and eyes like blue fire.

Lord Rurik, in his fully transformed Beast Form, slammed into the Alpha. He didn’t use magic. He used teeth and fury. He picked up the Void Beast and threw it into a rock wall with a sickening crunch.

And then, the heat.

A streak of Orange fire cut through the air.

General Rajah leaped from the ridge, landing in the center of the clearing with a superhero landing that melted the snow around him. He was holding his broadsword, wreathed in roaring flames.

"Nobody," Rajah growled, his eyes burning brighter than the fire, "touches the Fish."

The battle lasted ten seconds.

The Warlords didn’t just fight; they exterminated. It was a display of power that reminded Primrose exactly who these men were. They weren’t just daycare dads. They were the Four Calamities of the Empire.

When the last beast dissolved into smoke, silence returned to the mountain pass.

Rurik shifted back into human form (thankfully, his clothes were magically enchanted to return with him). He cracked his neck.

"That," Rurik grinned, wiping ichor from his lip, "was a good warmup."

Primrose stood there, trembling, the dagger slipping from her numb fingers.

Rajah walked over to her. He sheathed his sword and looked her up and down, checking for injuries.

"Tutor," he nodded.

"You..." Primrose stammered. "You guys... you stayed behind. You promised."

"We lied," Cassian said simply, sliding down the ridge with unnatural grace. "Politicians lie frequently. It is a skillset."

"We gave you a head start," Lucien corrected, stepping out of the shadows. "To draw out the enemy."

"And because," Rurik laughed, walking over and hauling the half-conscious Caspian to his feet like he was a ragdoll, "did you really think we would let you fight a war alone?"

Caspian blinked, looking at his Council. He looked confused, relieved, and slightly annoyed.

"I gave... a direct order," Caspian wheezed.

"Regents have authority when the King is incapacitated," Rajah countered smoothly. He looked at Primrose. "And besides... the cubs threatened to bite us if we didn’t bring you back."

Primrose looked at the four of them. Gold, Purple, Blue, Orange.

She burst into tears.

"Oh, thank god," she sobbed.

Rajah sighed, but he opened his arms. Primrose fell into the hug, burying her face in his coat, safe in the center of the Pack.

"We have you," Rajah murmured, his voice rumbling in his chest. "We have both of you."