The Lunar Crest Academy: Marked by The Lycans
Chapter 107: The Crimson Hunt

Chapter 107: Chapter 107: The Crimson Hunt

*****

The silence in the hideout was unsettling. Dust floated lazily in the air, the place reeking of rust, mold, and something far more metallic, blood. The dim light from a broken overhead bulb flickered, casting sharp shadows against the cracked concrete walls. In the center of it all, written in jagged, dripping strokes across the far wall, was a single, chilling message:

THE WAR IS ALMOST HERE.

Felix stared at it, his breath hitching. His fists clenched by his sides.

Adrian took a few cautious steps closer, his eyes narrowing as he studied the writing. "What war are they talking about?" he muttered, voice hushed like the walls themselves might whisper back.

Felix’s eyes scanned the abandoned space again, mangled chairs, empty bottles, shattered pieces of what once were tables. A dark symbol had been etched into the floor, faint but unmistakable, a wolf skull dripping with fangs.

"I don’t know," Felix finally answered, "but whatever it is... it’s coming."

A chill slithered down both their spines. The air suddenly felt colder.

"We need to report this," Adrian said firmly, straightening. "Whatever they’re planning, it’s big. The Lycans, whoever’s involved, they’re not hiding it anymore." _{f(r)eew(e)bnovel.(c)o(m)}

Felix shook his head slowly. "Report it to who, Astrid? Magnus Thorn? The same people who’ve turned their backs every time a feral gets slaughtered? When have they ever cared?"

Adrian turned to him sharply. "Even if they don’t care about us, this.... this affects everyone. This isn’t about just ferals anymore. It’s something bigger."

Felix looked back at the blood-streaked message and swallowed hard. As much as he hated to admit it, Adrian was right. This wasn’t just a threat, it was a warning.

He finally nodded. "Fine. Let’s go."

Without another word, they both turned and exited the hideout quickly, their footsteps echoing off the damp hallway walls as they made their way back into the open night. The academy tower loomed ahead like a silent giant as they walked fast toward the administrative building, tthrough the fading dusk, their boots crunching against gravel and dead leaves. The cold wind howled through the academy grounds, rattling the trees and whispering dread into the night. Felix kept glancing over his shoulder, the words The war is almost here looping in his mind like a curse.

They were almost at the administrative building when a towering figure suddenly stepped out from the shadows.

Felix jerked to a stop, Adrian did too, and the two of them almost bumped into him.

Director Magnus Thorn.

The long brown haired Lycan stood tall in his sleek black coat, broad arms crossed over his chest. His sharp eyes gleamed with suspicion, and the scowl on his face could’ve made the moon tremble.

"Well, well," he drawled, his voice low and cold. "What are two little rats like you doing scurrying around campus this late?"

Felix froze, heart thudding painfully in his chest. A sick feeling crawled up his spine. This was the same man who had slashed him across the chest like he was nothing. The same man who had sliced off Lorraine’s finger as if she were meat, not a girl.

He swallowed hard.

Adrian stepped forward, steadying his voice. "Director Thorn. We found something... something serious. It’s in an abandoned storage site near the outskirts of the northern academy wing. There’s a symbol, wolf skull with fangs, and a message written in what looked like blood."

Magnus Thorn arched a brow. "And what, pray tell, did this bloody message say?"

Felix answered this time, keeping his voice low. "The war is almost here."

At that, Thorn’s face shifted. His expression didn’t grow softer, no, nothing about him ever did, but something flickered in his eyes. Interest. Recognition. Alarm.

"And the sigil?" he asked.

"A wolf. Fanged skull. We think it’s the symbol of a new cult called the Crimson Hunt," Adrian added. "We’ve heard whispers of it recently.... Heard they were run by Lycans. We think they’re planning something."

For a long moment, Thorn said nothing. The wind cut through the space between them. Felix braced for mockery or dismissal. But to his surprise, Thorn didn’t wave it off. In fact, he nodded once, curtly.

"Take me there."

"What?" Felix blinked.

"You heard me. Follow me. Now."

He turned sharply and began striding toward the edge of the lot, where a black military-grade vehicle was parked. The feral and the noble shared a glance, then quickly followed.

They climbed in, Adrian in the front passenger seat, Felix in the back. Magnus Thorn slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine without another word.

The car roared to life, tires crunching over gravel as they sped out of the academy gates and into the night.

Inside the vehicle, silence reigned. But Felix couldn’t help the thought swirling in his head:

Why is Director Thorn suddenly taking this so seriously? What does he know?

The car finally came to a hard stop, gravel crunching beneath the tires as Director Thorn stepped out first, the wind blowing his coat behind him like a cloak of shadow. Felix and Adrian quickly followed, nerves tight and stomachs clenched.

The abandoned storage site looked even more eerie in the dark. The rusted metal door creaked as Magnus shoved it open, revealing the cold, empty interior lit only by the moonlight leaking through shattered windows.

They moved in silence, the air stale with dust and something faintly metallic, blood.

Felix led the way through the debris-scattered hallway until they stopped in front of the graffiti-covered wall. The sigil loomed like a nightmare: a fanged wolf skull painted in red, with jagged letters below it like slashes carved into flesh.

THE WAR IS ALMOST HERE

Director Thorn froze.

He didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe. His normally composed expression crumbled for the first time.

He stared at the sigil like it had crawled out of a grave he thought buried forever.

Felix glanced between Thorn and the wall, unsettled. "Why are you taking this so seriously?" he asked, his voice low and cautious. "Students die here every day and you do not bat an eyelash. You didn’t even flinch when you cut off Lorraine’s finger. But this?" He pointed to the writing. "Some creepy cult graffiti, and you look like you’ve seen a ghost."

Magnus Thorn slowly turned to him.

His eyes flashed rred

In one step, he was inches from Felix, towering over him like death cloaked in flesh. Felix stiffened, but Thorn’s voice, when it came, was calm, low, and cutting.

"You probably think this is some small, pathetic student cult," Thorn said, his tone heavy with venom. "But it’s not."

He stepped back, raking a hand through his long brown hair.

"Before I came to this gods-forsaken academy, I was the Alpha King’s right hand. His war commander. Before that, I was his blade, his best warrior. I fought in over thirty battles. Do you know the battle that retired me?" He pointed to the sigil, jaw clenched. "Them. The Crimson Hunt."

Adrian’s eyes narrowed. "Crimson Hunt?"

"They weren’t just Lycans," Thorn growled. "They were something else. Elite. Noble. Lycan. Didn’t matter what class. They came from everywhere. But every one of them was the same, not normal. Trained in forbidden ways. Faster than anything we’d seen. Stronger. Cunning. They forged weapons laced with liquified silver. Carried poisons that could paralyze a wolf mid-shift. And their goal..."

He turned fully to face them, eyes deadly serious.

"...was to tear down the hierarchy. Burn the entire kingdom to ash. And install a new world order."

Adrian’s face paled. "You mean..... They wanted to overthrow the Alpha King?"

"They almost did," Thorn said quietly. "The war was brutal. Every battle was like dancing on a knife’s edge. We lost more soldiers than I care to count. I almost died stopping them. We thought we’d crushed them for good. No one’s heard a whisper of them in years."

He stared back at the sigil. "Until now."

Felix’s heart pounded. "So if they’re back..."

"They’ve already started infiltrating. The system. The council. And now the academy."

Thorn’s fists clenched at his sides.

"If that’s true, then this isn’t some student mischief." He turned to them, his voice grave. "This is a warning. A declaration."

"The war is almost here," Adrian repeated under his breath.

"And we’re standing on the edge of it," Thorn said grimly. "I have to report this. Now. And whatever comes next...." He looked back at the sigil one last time. "We might not be ready."

The three of them left the hideout with tension draped over their shoulders like a shroud. Not one of them spoke as they stepped back into the car, minds echoing with the weight of what they had just seen.

Director Thorn got behind the wheel, his grip on it tight enough to turn his knuckles white. Felix and Adrian sat in the back, too stunned to speak. The engine roared to life, and they began driving through the academy grounds. The night was heavy with mist, the lamplights throwing pale golden glows across the paths and courtyards.

"Crimson Hunt..." Felix murmured again, as though the name alone left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Thorn said nothing. His eyes were pinned on the road ahead, his mind clearly elsewhere.

Then it happened.

A shadow shifted in front of the car.

Too fast. Too sudden.

Thorn’s reflexes kicked in. He slammed the brakes.

The tires screeched violently, and the car skidded to a stop just inches from the figure standing in the middle of the road.

"What the hell....." Adrian started.

"Stay inside," Thorn ordered sharply, already opening his door and stepping out into the night.

The figure hadn’t moved.

Thorn squinted into the darkness, then his expression shifted from confusion to disbelief.

"Kieran?"

Kieran Valerius Hunter stood in the center of the road, bathed in silver moonlight. But something was... off. His stance was uneven. His usually sleek uniform was rumpled and dusty, his hair disheveled like he’d fought a storm. His skin looked pale beneath the faint glow, and most disturbing of all..... his eyes.

They were glowing. But not their usual golden red.

No. They were a dead shade of red.

Lifeless. Like blood left too long in open air. As if whatever soul once lived behind them had been dragged through the void.

"Kieran," Thorn said carefully, stepping closer, "what happened to you?"

There was no answer. No blink.

Thorn’s body tensed. "Prince Kieran... speak to me."

Stillness.

Then, like a puppet with its strings cut, Kieran collapsed.