The Devil's Betrothed
Chapter 425: Intruder

Chapter 425: Intruder

Oriana’s advance seemed to have no effect on the witch, who remained motionless in her stead. The moment Oriana took a step forward, the floor beneath her feet burst into radiant illumination, forming a mystical circle replete with ancient runes.

"Huh?" Oriana gasped, her gaze dropping to her feet. To her astonishment, she found herself immobilized, her every attempt to move thwarted. The circle pulsed with a blend of divine energy and potent darkness, a clear indication that it had been wrought using Arlan’s divine blood.

In the chamber, the witch’s laughter resounded, "Did you genuinely believe that allowing your earlier assaults to succeed would enable you to subdue me, the mightiest black witch?"

Oriana stared in disbelief. She had been certain that her previous attacks had taken their toll, but now she realized the witch had masterfully kept her occupied with conversation while secretly devising this trap. The witch had orchestrated everything.

’I underestimated her,’ Oriana admitted to herself.

"This enchantment, empowered by the most formidable ancient runes and infused with the essence of dragon’s blood, is a trap you, as a mere witch, cannot hope to escape. Inside it, you are powerless," the witch remarked, closing in on Oriana and pacing along the outer edge of the circle. "Did you genuinely believe your venomous words could influence me? You, a young witch, have barely scratched the surface of your own power, and yet you aspire to defeat me."

Gritting her teeth, Oriana watched the witch’s sinister orbit. "What is your intent?"

"I’ve already told you," the witch sneered as she continued her circumnavigation, "I intend to utilize your blood to free myself, and you’ve already agreed to surrender your body."

"Do you truly believe I’ll surrender my blood without a struggle?" Oriana challenged. "You’ll have to come to me to obtain it or release me from this trap. It’s not like you can simply extract it through the air."

"You will willingly offer me your blood," the witch continued to circle her, "I hold your vulnerability close to my heart."

Oriana grasped the implications. "You intend to use him against me. What if I prioritize my life over his? You can do whatever you wish with him, but I won’t comply with your demands."

"Really?" the witch said, her voice tinged with amusement, and then approached Arlan, who lay unconscious on the floor. Cloaked in dark attire, she gazed down at him. "My Prince, I don’t want to inflict further harm, but this woman here is reluctant to allow us to be together. You know that only through her can we be united eternally. So, endure this with me, alright?"

Her hand emitted a shroud of black magic that enveloped Arlan’s form. In the next instant, his body convulsed, contorted with pain even in his unconscious state, as if he could sense the torment.

Oriana’s eyes widened, her heart aching. She couldn’t fathom the intensity of his suffering, and she couldn’t bear to see him in such agony, even knowing he wouldn’t die, and the witch had no intention of killing him. It was her firsthand experience of his pain through his distressing memories that shattered her resolve.

"I agree," Oriana spoke, her voice trembling. "I agree to give you my blood."

The witch ceased tormenting Arlan and approached Oriana. "That’s a wise choice."

"I’m not finished speaking," Oriana continued.

"What do you desire?" the witch inquired.

"I’ll agree to your terms, but in return, you must release him," Oriana insisted.

"That’s impossible," the witch replied.

"If you understand that he is my weakness, and I’d do anything for him, then you must know I won’t consent without ensuring his well-being," Oriana declared.

"I will become his mate, and he..." the witch began.

"I’ve heard you, and I won’t entertain that idea," Oriana interrupted. "If I’m sacrificing my life for him, you have to make a sacrifice as well. You can have him, but you’ll remain trapped here forever, or you can free yourself using me and leave this place, and him, behind. The latter option seems better, granting you eternal freedom."

The witch remained silent for a moment, so Oriana pressed on, "Consider your choice: a lifetime of freedom or eternal entrapment here?"

"You’re hardly in a position to negotiate with me," the witch countered.

"Are you, then, in your current state, with no clear end in sight?" Oriana shot back, her courage undeterred.

The witch chuckled, and in the next moment, something stirred in the room.

"Ahh!" Oriana winced in pain as she realized a deep gash had appeared on her right hand, and blood flowed from the wound.

Swiftly, a shroud of black magic encircled her, collecting the droplets in the air, which moved toward the witch and were captured in a tiny glass bottle. "This should suffice to set me free," the witch declared.

Oriana was taken aback. The witch had clearly outmaneuvered her, leaving her uncertain of her next move. Despite being a Queen of witches, Oriana realized she still had much to learn. She berated herself for her inability to anticipate the witch’s tactics. Was she truly foolish, or was she just inexperienced in dealing with witches? Witches were renowned for their power, and Oriana had been utterly outwitted.

’What can I do to stop her?’ she pondered, her gaze falling on the door. Her last hope rested behind that door with Lord Yorian, but could he confront such a formidable witch? Could he even enter the room? The weight of her desperation bore down on her.

She couldn’t employ her magic within the confines of the magical circle and was left with nothing but prayer. ’Lord Yorian, aren’t you concerned about my prolonged absence? Where are you? Why haven’t you taken action?’

The witch noticed Oriana’s desperate gaze fixed on the door. She toyed with the small bottle in her hand as she spoke, "Are you holding out hope for someone to come to your aid?" She chuckled malevolently. "How naive of you. No one can open that door. There is no one powerful enough to challenge the black magic infused with Dragon’s divine blood."

’She’s right. Even if Lord Yorian wishes to enter the room, it seems impossible. I need to find another solution. I should call upon my master,’ Oriana contemplated, attempting to use her spatial magic to retrieve the pendant. Yet, to her dismay, she found herself unable to employ any magic, not even the spatial magic that means she could not summon her master. Her frustration mounted.

"Disappointed?" the witch inquired as she advanced towards Oriana. "You should be, for you entered here without knowing the kind of adversary you would face. You probably never imagined you’d end up trapped in this place, never to escape."

Oriana forced a wry chuckle. "You’re mistaken. If you don’t release me soon, someone will come to my rescue, and you’ll regret holding me captive."

"Who? Other powerless, feeble witches like you?" the witch scoffed. "Believe me, even if the entire coven of witches were here, they wouldn’t be able to overcome the black magic infused with the divine blood of a beast. Now, be silent and accept your fate. You have until the next full moon night for your soul to leave your body and bid farewell to this world."

Oriana felt at a loss for words, pinning her hopes on Yorian to take action.

"How fortunate it is that you arrived precisely when I needed you. The next full moon night is a rare occasion that occurs once every decade when the stars align just as I require to achieve my desires. I’ll reclaim my life and rule over all those who once looked down on me," the witch declared with a resonant, malevolent laugh.

She came to a halt and tilted her head, as if playfully regarding Oriana, ready to tease and mock. Although Oriana couldn’t see the witch’s face due to its concealment, she could feel the malicious and mocking gaze bearing down on her.

"Do you know," the witch began, "that on the next full moon night, when you would have departed from this world, I will become Prince Arlan’s mate?"

Oriana stared at the witch in disbelief. What was this witch plotting? How did she intend to coerce Arlan into becoming her mate? Was it even possible?

"He will never accept you as his mate," Oriana retorted.

The witch emitted a wicked chuckle. "He will. He always does as I say. He has no other choice but to heed me, even if he doesn’t desire it. Have you not considered why, despite his immense power and the ability to vanquish me, he hasn’t harmed me and remains under my control?"

"What are you blackmailing him with?" Oriana inquired, her growing understanding of Arlan.

"That is not something you need to know," the witch replied. "Just be aware that on the next full moon night, he will mark me, and we will consummate our bond. After that, he will be my eternal slave."

Oriana felt a wave of nausea wash over her. Her mind seemed on the brink of collapse. It was as if she couldn’t bear to fathom the implications of the witch’s words. She gazed at Arlan, still unconscious and unaware of the situation, her mind in turmoil.

"Release him. You can attain power without resorting to this," Oriana implored, her voice steady.

"What if I refuse?" the witch taunted.

"I am warning you. You can do anything to me, take my body, or even end my life, but release him. He doesn’t deserve to be imprisoned like this. He has suffered enough."

"What will you do? Can you do anything, you useless witch?" The witch mocked her.

"I will make you regret every moment of pain he has endured," Oriana clenched her teeth. "Mark my words, you will not keep me trapped here. I will be free from here soon, and you will regret this very night when you desired to trap me."

"Oh, your words almost amuse me. I wonder from where your confidence coming from. You will never be free because...." the witch laughed, her next words oozing with arrogance. "I am the most powerful witch, invincible, and no one can defeat me, ever...."

"Boom!"

In the next instant, the room’s door burst open, struck by a tremendous force that eclipsed even the evil witch’s black magic infused with Arlan’s blood.

Both the witch and Oriana were stunned at this sudden intrusion.

The witch was shocked, "How can this be? Who is so powerful?" Her eyes fixed on the doorway to discern the identity of this formidable intruder.

Tuk! Tuk! Tuk!

Footsteps resounded in the corridor as the individual responsible for the powerful entry approached.

When the evil witch was shocked, the corners of Oriana’s lips curved into smile.

’Little late, but still on time.’