The Destructive Adventures of the Lovers-Chapter 80: Found You!

The sky darkened as if the sun itself had turned its back on the world. Thick clouds swirled above the kingdom, casting long shadows over the castle walls. The air grew heavy, the wind colder, biting at the faces of the Mankaynd soldiers standing guard.

Atlas appeared first, his form flickering in and out of reality as if time itself bent around him. He stood atop the castle gate, blades gleaming in his hands. With a wicked grin, he whispered,

"It's time."

He vanished, reappearing behind the first row of knights, his blades flashing in the dim light. Blood sprayed against the stone walls, staining the banners of the Holy Land.

Phill crashed through the main gate, his enormous form shattering the iron bars like dried twigs. The ground trembled beneath his massive steps as he swung his fists, sending knights flying like broken dolls.

Aror followed, his fists wrapped in the dark, pulsing energy of his regeneration. Every cut, every stab the defenders managed to land only made him angrier, his body knitting itself back together before their terrified eyes.

"You can't kill what's already dead!" he roared, smashing through a line of spearmen.

Lydia hovered above the chaos, her wand sword crackling with ethereal energy. She slashed the air, and bolts of lightning crackled down into the courtyard, blasting stone and flesh alike into ash.

"Bow before your new rulers!" she screamed, her laughter echoing off the castle walls.

Then came Vaneshka, her eyes glowing a deep, bloody crimson. She raised her hands, and the very blood of the fallen soldiers rose from the ground, swirling around her like a serpent. She twisted her fingers, and the blood formed razor-sharp tendrils, slicing through armor and flesh with terrifying precision.

"Your king is gone! Your hope is dead!"

The screams of the dying echoed through the stone halls, cut off one by one as the Dead Clan tore through the castle. Rooms collapsed, towers crumbled, and the sacred tapestries of the kingdom burned in the flickering light of Lydia's magic.

When the last knight fell, his sword clattering to the blood-soaked floor, Vaneshka stepped forward, her scythe dripping with fresh, steaming blood. She planted it into the stone, the impact sending cracks through the floor.

"It's ours now," she whispered, her eyes glinting with madness.

Phill stomped up beside her, his fists still wet with the blood of his enemies.

"They never stood a chance."

Atlas flicked the blood from his blades, grinning.

"They thought they could stop us. Fools."

Lydia lowered herself to the ground, brushing ash from her cloak.

"The Holy Land is ours."

Aror laughed, his blood-streaked face twisted in a triumphant snarl.

"And no one is left to challenge us."

As the smoke rose into the darkened sky, the kingdom fell silent—its walls broken, its defenders slain, its king nowhere to be found.

The Dead Clan had claimed their throne.

The sun faded behind the trees as the Savior of Creation continued their quiet journey. The air was still. Too still.

Zeze rode at the front, her blades clean but her mind stained with dread. The forest loomed ahead—dark, ancient, whispering. They came to a halt at the edge.

Blood.

Dried, rust-colored streaks clung to sharpened wooden spikes lining the path. Some were broken—others still stood tall, stained with a history none wanted to speak of.

Zeze slid down from her horse, her eyes fixed on one particularly tall spike.

"...This is where they slaughtered them," she whispered. Her voice cracked slightly. "Years ago. Mankaynds... helpless... they were hung here like trophies."

Matt moved beside her, narrowing his eyes.

"Who would do this?"

Zeze didn't answer. Her hand touched the spike, her fingers trembling.

Owen dismounted with a frown, drawing his blade.

"This isn't just old blood. Some of it... is fresh."

Gabriel looked around.

"You think someone's still out here?"

Zeze clenched her fists.

"They could be watching us right now."

Margo stepped forward.

"Maybe it's better if we don't stick together."

Gabriel looked at her, surprised.

"Split up?"

She nodded.

"We'll cover more ground. This forest stretches miles. Whoever did this might still be hiding—maybe watching us from between the trees."

Zeze didn't like the idea.

"Splitting up in a place like this? That's asking for death."

Owen placed a hand on her shoulder.

"We won't be far. Just within shouting distance. We find clues, then regroup here."

Everyone exchanged glances.

Matt gave a small nod.

"I'll go west."

Gabriel and Margo locked eyes.

"We'll take the north." fɾēewebnσveℓ.com

Zeze drew her blades, eyes flickering with something buried deep—something old.

"Then I'll take east. Alone."

Owen hesitated.

"Be careful."

"I always am," Zeze replied coldly, vanishing into the shadows of the trees.

As each group disappeared into the dense forest, only the blood on the spikes remained behind—silent, unmoving, watching. The forest whispered again. It remembered.

And soon... it would show them what it remembered.

The wind whispered between the broken trees as Gabriel and Margo pushed deeper into the northern forest. Leaves crunched beneath their boots, brittle and red like scabs. A strange smell followed the wind—something iron-like and rotten.

Gabriel stopped.

"What's that smell?" he asked, voice low.

Margo didn't respond. She walked ahead, slowly, carefully. Then she saw it—tangled in the roots of a twisted old tree. A girl's body. Torn, gnawed. Barely recognizable.

"Gabriel..." Her voice cracked.

He stepped forward. His eyes widened.

"No. No, no, no..."

It was her.

Lila.

Her clothes were shredded, soaked in dried blood. One arm bent unnaturally. Her face... partially eaten. Only a single blue eye remained open, staring emptily into the void.

Margo dropped to her knees beside her. Her hands trembled.

"She... she didn't deserve this," Margo whispered. "She was just a kid."

Gabriel knelt beside her, swallowing the bile in his throat.

"She helped us... she saved me once in the desert. She brought us water when we were dying..."

"I told her to stay behind," Margo said, tears falling freely now. "She said she wanted to prove herself... I should've stopped her."

Gabriel gently pulled Margo into his arms.

"There's nothing we could've done."

"I'm tired of losing people," she whispered into his chest. "First Ella. Then Xyrille. Now Lila..."

Gabriel didn't speak. He just held her tighter.

After a long silence, Margo wiped her face and stood.

"We can't leave her like this."

Gabriel nodded. He took off his cloak and wrapped Lila's body with care. Together, they buried her beneath the tree. No words were said. Just silence... and the wind.

As they finished, Margo stared down at the fresh soil.

"I won't forget her."

Gabriel looked up. Ahead, half-covered in vines and rubble, stood the remains of a castle. Its towers were broken, its walls scarred by flame and blood.

"We should go," he said. "Maybe there's something inside that tells us what happened here."

Margo nodded quietly.

"Let's finish what she couldn't."

They walked toward the broken castle, hearts heavy, blades ready. Behind them, the forest creaked. Somewhere deep inside, something was still watching.