The Dark Fairy King
Chapter 77: Forgotten Fairies and Spells

Chapter 77: Forgotten Fairies and Spells

I scanned the clearing frantically.

Then I saw her.

There she was, nestled among a small crowd of fairies, basking in the glow of admiration.

I heaved a sigh of relief. She was safe.

As I inched closer, I heard the praises she was getting.

"You’re fantastic, Doverel!" they cooed.

Woah. Doverel was getting popular?

"98? How did you even get 98 couples?" a male fairy asked, eyes wide with amazement.

Doverel had better luck venturing further, unlike poor Edna.

"Doverel!" I called out.

She turned immediately, her bright smile softening into concern when she saw my face.

I must have looked distraught. How could I not?

"What happened?" she asked gently.

"I was worried you got hurt," I replied.

"I’m fine, Scarlette," Doverel assured me as she turned back to her newfound fans.

"Edna..." My voice dropped.

"She didn’t make it."

I wasn’t sure if Doverel had heard me at first, but then she blinked.

"Edna?" she repeated.

For a moment, I caught a flicker of sadness—or maybe guilt—in her eyes.

But the others overheard.

They mocked.

"She went too close to the dark woods, didn’t she?"

Their eyes locked on Doverel, waiting for her reply.

What she said next knocked the air out of me.

"Then that’s on her. Just like the elders always say—choices have consequences."

And with that, she turned back to her new fans.

"Oh my goodness, Doverel, I need to learn from you."

"The King’s going to be so pleased!"

"Rising star!"

"Please, guys," Doverel said with false modesty, "we still have a long way to go."

I stood there, horrified.

"Don’t any of you care?" I asked, voice trembling. "Edna died. She was one of you."

"Who?" one fairy asked, genuinely puzzled.

"One less competitor, I guess," another shrugged.

Cold dread crept through me.

What kind of values were these?

When did being a top scorer become more important than being a decent person?

We were Love Fairies.

Where was the love?

No one remembered Edna.

Not a single one cared.

Not even Doverel.

Did I even know Doverel?

Then Arisa arrived.

I didn’t like her.

But I had hope—surely, she’d understand.

Surely, she’d do something.

Anything.

"Elder Arisa," I called out, pleading, "Edna is dead. A Dark Fairy got her."

She didn’t even blink.

"A tragic end," Arisa said, folding her hands. "But the lesson remains: don’t wander where you don’t belong."

What did I expect?

They didn’t care.

Not a single one.

Not even when one of their own fell.

"Let that be a lesson to you, young fairy," she added, gesturing toward the golden board displayed near the palace gates. "Maybe get your name on there before we give a damn."

I turned.

There it was.

The Kingdom’s shrine to achievement.

Gervan: 120 couples.

Doverel: 98.

Lucien: 89.

A sickness swelled in my gut.

This was what mattered here?

A numbers game?

No defensive training.

No value for life.

Just racking up couples and smiling pretty for the King.

Should I even be happy that Doverel was second?

I already knew my name wasn’t there. I hadn’t earned it—not the way they counted. But suddenly, I didn’t want it to be.

Something was broken.

They needed to relearn what it meant to be a Love Fairy.

Or maybe... learn it for the first time.

They needed to care.

They needed to protect themselves.

They needed more than sparkles and soft spells.

They needed offensive magic.

They needed me.

And I had to be strong for them.

So I didn’t wait.

Dusk was falling—5 p.m.

Most other fairies retreated home.

But not me.

I ventured out again.

Only this time, I kept my distance from the dark woods... not yet anyway.

Instead, I found myself near the edge, practicing like the fate of the world depended on it.

This was for Edna.

For those fallen to cold, broken systems.

The Dark Fairies were a threat.

And these Love Fairies refused to see it.

We needed to eliminate the threat.

Sure, I wasn’t at full power—especially after centuries trapped.

But once my magic returned to its former strength, no Dark Fairy would ever hurt my kind again.

Then, about a hundred meters away, perched like a raven on the twisted branches of a poison apple tree, sat a Dark Fairy. Not the one that hunted Edna. Another one.

He didn’t move.

But I could feel his presence.

Lanky build.

Curly black hair.

Pale skin.

He lounged on the branch, a twig in his mouth, half asleep.

Eerily attractive in a dangerous way.

Danger radiated off him. I couldn’t help stealing a glance or two.

His presence gave me privacy.

No Love Fairy would dare come this close.

I needed privacy from these brainwashed goons to do what I must.

I just had to stay far enough not to tempt fate.

You might call this the border before the dark woods—or the fragile line between Light and Dark.

Yes, Dark Fairies are dangerous.

Every single one.

You don’t approach them.

You don’t talk to them.

You treat them like wild animals—carefully, from a distance.

Heck, one of them killed Edna—because she got too close.

But this one...

This Dark Fairy was too still.

Too calm.

Too tame.

He even seemed to be napping.

Was he pretending?

Don’t get me wrong.

I was still wary.

Dark Fairies don’t feel guilt or forgiveness.

Offend one, and the rest will come for you.

I’m still cautious.

But this one... he seemed different.

I carefully summoned my red mists from my palms, forming a single orb.

My magic steadied as the orb grew larger.

I felt its warmth, its promise, its power.

There was hope after all.

And then—of course—my orb betrayed me.

It trembled, slipped free from my fingers—and drifted.

Slow and silent, it floated like a wandering flame toward the trees.

Toward him.

The Dark Fairy sat up and raised a brow, opening one eye curiously as he watched the orb briefly before closing his eye and leaning back against the branch again.

My heart seized.

I didn’t dare breathe.

I had to act like this was planned.

Like I was in control.

I calmly tucked the orb back, whispered an apology to the wind, and turned my face away.

Maybe if I ignored him, he wouldn’t ruin everything.

He wouldn’t attack me.

Because I needed this.

I needed to act.

I needed to teach my people how to care.

How to defend themselves.

How to fight back.

I needed to be the one to rise above King Baltimore.

He had his time pretending to be the rightful heir.

His indoctrinations were toxic.

The elders below him weren’t any better.

Mindless servants.

The elders didn’t care about death.

They wanted conformity.

Silence.

Obedience.

But I won’t bow.

I refuse.

They’ll regret underestimating me.

They’ll regret dismissing my warnings.

I’m not asking for forgiveness.

They started this.