The Villainess's Secret Bedroom Service
Chapter 75: The Voice

Chapter 75: The Voice

As an impenetrable darkness enshrouded their vision, rendering everything to a pitch-black abyss, Rosalie instinctively tightened her grip around Damien’s neck. The sudden turn of events left her utterly perplexed, struggling to make sense of the situation.

Amidst the initial seconds of stillness and silence, the tranquility shattered as panic began to ripple through the crowd. Anxious voices crescendoed, creating a cacophony that grew more intense by the passing moment.

"Your Grace? What is happening now?"

Before Damien could formulate a response, their eyes were engulfed in a blinding flash of crimson-red light, casting a dark, bloody glow over the entire Capital city.

In an instant, it felt as if the very world around them shattered, accompanied by an ear-piercing scream reminiscent of the desperate growl of a wild beast. This primal sound reverberated through the space like a sudden thunderstrike, sending shivers down their spines.

As the darkness gradually receded, each corner of the Capital was bathed in a sinister shade of red, revealing a horrifying sight – dozens of massive creatures, varying in shapes and hues, roamed unrestrained in every direction. Their rampage knew no bounds – chasing down people, subjecting them to brutal attacks, and trampling them as if they were nothing but insignificant insects. The creatures tore victims apart and, in a gruesome spectacle, devoured them alive.

A symphony of terrified screams intermingled with the hoarse, animalistic roars, accompanied by the sickening sounds of bones snapping and flesh tearing. It was as if the most nightmarish scenes from a horror film had sprung to life, defying belief.

Rosalie’s eyes widened in sheer astonishment – the spectacle of untamed creatures running amok was a sight beyond the realms of reason. The pages of the novel had detailed the Imperial Magicians’ prowess in confining magical beasts to specific habitats, their magical seals impervious to breach. The fact that these creatures had breached those fortified barriers to infiltrate the heavily guarded Imperial Capital was nothing short of absurd.

With a gentle release, Damien allowed the girl to regain her footing, his imposing figure then drawing his large black sword. Positioned before Rosalie, his broad back stood like a towering dark wall, offering her shelter and protection.

"Lady Rosalie, remain behind me and refrain from straying unless instructed otherwise. Your safety is my utmost priority, and I shall ensure it."

Lady Ashter offered a faint nod, though her internal turmoil revealed that moving even a single muscle was beyond her capacity. The grip of fear had her so tightly in its grasp that she found herself utterly immobilized, a mere spectator within her own body.

In the midst of this tense moment, another tall figure hurried toward the duke. He was a fellow member of the Shadow Knights, his right hand firmly clutching a sword now stained with blood, and dark, damp splotches of black adorned his uniform like gruesome ornaments.

"Christian, provide an update on the situation."

The knight swiped at his sweat-dampened forehead before delivering his report.

"Your Grace, these creatures have been summoned using black magic, most likely through pagan rituals."

Damien’s brows knitted, his expression clouded by a potent mixture of anger and exasperation.

"Are the guards we positioned around the Capital sufficient to fend off this threat?"

"Your Grace, Laith is en route with reinforcements."

"Very well then. May fortune favor us."

Acknowledging the duke’s directive with a subtle nod, the knight quickly withdrew from the scene. With a heart racing as frantically as his gaze, Damien’s resolute golden eyes swept over the unfolding turmoil. The large handle of his black sword found a firm grip within his gloved hand, his mind grappling with a torrent of contemplative thoughts.

"I must ensure the safety of Lady Rosalie while killing as many of these creatures as possible... Perhaps my first priority should be relocating her to a secure place."

Amid this resolute realization surging through his restless thoughts, Damien executed a swift pivot, only to abruptly halt in his tracks. Before him stood Lady Ashter, her complexion as pale as a ghost, her form quivering like a leaf caught in the relentless wind. Her colorless fingers clung to her own delicate shoulders, bearing witness to the intensity of her fear.

In that vulnerable moment, the man found himself on the verge of dropping to his knees before the trembling girl. With a gentle resolve, he reached out and tenderly enclosed her hands within his own, his voice unexpectedly warm and soothing.

"Lady Rosalie, do not be afraid. All shall be well. This trial will soon pass. Allow me to guide you to safety."

Out of nowhere, an immense shadow descended upon them, casting an eerie darkness that cloaked their forms like a menacing phantom. Rosalie, paralyzed by fear, watched with widened eyes as this shadow loomed, her gaze fixated above the duke’s head. In a trembling voice, she stammered,

"Your Grace... B-Behind you..."

Responding swiftly, the man pivoted, his black sword aligning defensively with his robust frame. His golden gaze fell upon the foreboding presence that loitered before him – a colossal black bear with extraordinarily long, silver fangs gleaming menacingly, its large red eyes akin to twin blood moons.

"Lady Rosalie, step back immediately!"

With a resounding, authoritative command, Damien surged forward, his dark blade colliding with the bear’s razor-sharp claws. He deftly navigated the creature’s vicious assaults, his movements a choreography of calculated precision.

Yet, Lady Ashter remained ensnared by the disarray and terror, a spectator to this harrowing duel. She watched in tense silence as the duke grappled with the beast, her heart fervently wishing for his safety, and her eyes darting frantically over the surreal sight of combat unfolding before her.

Abruptly, the sound of sluggish, ponderous footsteps reached her ears from behind – a noise reminiscent of someone trudging through thick mud. This was followed by a subdued, throaty growl that seemed to echo from the depths of some primeval abyss. Compelled by her insatiable curiosity, she turned slowly on her heel, unable to resist.

What met her gaze was an immense black wolf, its presence formidable and unyielding. The creature’s stark, white fangs adorned its countenance in an unsettling, animalistic grin.

In a heartbeat, Rosalie’s control over her own body slipped through her fingers. Her already tumultuous thoughts dissolved into nothingness. Fueled by a potent mix of adrenaline and terror, her legs took on a life of their own, darting her forward. In this desperate escape, she harbored a sole fear – not of the unknown assailant but of capture itself.

Time seemed to lose its definition as she ran, the boundaries of duration and direction blurred beyond recognition. The darkness, interwoven with the crimson hue, transformed into an indistinct, fading panorama. Down empty pathways she sprinted, her pace relentless, unyielding even when her orange fox mask slipped from its perch and tumbled to the ground beneath her feet.

Finally, the girl’s lungs began to falter, the searing burn within her chest expelling breath rather than retaining it. As the desperate grip of suffocation tightened, a haze enveloped her thoughts. Amid this muddled turmoil, she failed to discern an obstruction beneath her feet, her leg colliding with a jarringly frigid object as she tumbled down, her body meeting the coarse embrace of the cold autumn ground.

Still, her body clung to the dwindling embers of escape, an unyielding grip on a flickering hope. Rosalie pivoted, orienting herself while leaning upon her arms, her legs stretched before her, eyes widening once more in an involuntary response. There it was again – the same black wolf, its form loomed over her, its scarlet eyes an incandescent blaze, its carnivorous grin a chilling familiarity. Teeth glistened, both menacing and inviting, as they punctuated its eerie expression.

Slowly, he began to move, dragging his heavy dirty feed closer, his loud breathing and suppressed growling filling the still air around him.

Within Rosalie’s chest, her heart seemed to wage a desperate battle against its bony confines, reminiscent of a caged bird yearning for release. A resigned acceptance settled over her, prompting her to squeeze her eyelids shut, bracing herself for the inevitable.

’This is the end. There is absolutely nothing I can do anymore.’

Yet, instead of meeting her imminent demise, an unbelievably low and raspy voice reached her mind through the darkness of her closed eyelids.

"Come... Be one... With us... Use... Our power..."

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