**EHM first off welcoming to the end of Book 1!!! Thank you for joining us on this journey. Sooo I hope you enjoy, I hope I have kept you entertained and I am Sorry...That's all I am going to say...I am sorry. I am going to do something unique...
https://youtu.be/puPNMUjfITU?list=RDMMkgfINk72eoo
I am giving you the FIGHT SONG!!!! For this chapter! Yes You must listen to it, IT FITS! HER... It's For The Glory Feat Hollywood Undead. Here is the Link or just search for it. TRUST ME listen to it...It fits the moment...Second.....Or third...I forget...Did I mention sorry? Why do I keep saying that? Well...Book 2 is going to be.....IDK....Different...In a lot of ways?...How?...No spoilers....BUT...I will tell you in a math equation LOL One moment....
Bnew?=Bold?+k(TEN+E)+R+S+L+Q+∑RB
Welp....ENJOY!**
The incubus hesitated only for a moment, but it was already too late.
Lady Aura’s grip tightened around the twisting vine in her hand, the dark energy within it surging as she lashed it forward. The vine cracked like a whip, snaring the throat of the nearest incubus with a sickening snap.
Before he could even gasp, she yanked.
His body flew through the air, straight toward her.
The moment he was within reach, her clawed gauntlet tore through his chest like wet paper, necrotic energy coursing through the wound before she threw his lifeless body into the dirt like garbage.
She barely spared him another thought.
“I’m tired of waiting.”
And just like that, the battlefield erupted.
Abraxium ripped free of the bindings that held him, his golden eyes burning with rage as the remaining incubus and their monstrous allies charged.
The traps had slowed them, but now that they were free?
Some would wish they had stayed bound.
The moment the first of them lunged, Aura moved.
Her tail cracked like a steel whip, shattering the skull of a lesser demon. The spiked end impaled another, lifting him off the ground before she flung his body into a cluster of his allies, sending them sprawling.
An incubus attempted to flank her—only for her armored hoof to crash into his ribs, crushing bone as he was sent hurtling into a tree with a sickening crunch.
Two more rushed in, blades gleaming with corrupted magic—but her armor pulsed.
Their spells fizzled into nothing, their incubus-born abilities unable to penetrate the death-forged plating that now encased her.
One hesitated, realizing something was wrong.
Too late.
She twisted in place, grabbing a fallen sword with one hand and hurling it like a spear—the blade tore through his throat, impaling him to the ground.
Then came Abraxium.
He was faster than the others. Smarter. More dangerous.
He vanished in a blur, weaving between the chaos, sidestepping her sweeping tail and avoiding the vines still slithering like hungry serpents around the battlefield.
Then—he appeared behind her.
Close. Too close.
His breath was hot against her ear.
And then, she smelled it.
Musk Enchant.
A spell crafted to arouse and weaken the will of its victims, designed to make even the most disciplined warriors succumb to their deepest desires. It worked on anyone susceptible to arousal.
And who wouldn’t be vulnerable to it?
A centuries-old virgin, untouched, unclaimed—ripe for conquest.
Abraxium grinned.
“You can’t fight instincts, Lady Aura,” he purred, his voice dripping with triumph. “You were already beautiful, but now? Now you’re more than that. You’re a prize. Your body is screaming for—”
Her hand shot out.
Before he could finish his sentence, before he could even realize what had happened—she grabbed him by the throat.
His eyes widened in shock. What?!
The spell should have worked.
It always worked.
He had caught her off guard, his musk had been directly in her face, and yet—
Nothing.
Aura’s grip tightened.
Then, she smiled.
“Oh? Were you saying something?”
His face contorted with rage and confusion. “That’s impossible!”
Her claws dug deeper.
“You’re right. It should’ve worked.” Her voice was mocking, low, almost amused. “You must be wondering why I’m not shuddering at your feet like the pathetic little human women you’re used to preying on.”
His wings flared as he tried to pry her hand off, but she didn’t budge.
Then, she leaned in, her lips so close to his ear that he could feel her breath.
“It’s because, for the next hour, I’m undead, you idiot.”
His pupils shrunk.
Then—her tail lashed forward, impaling him straight through the stomach.
Abraxium choked, blood bubbling at his lips.
Aura grinned.
“And you? You’re not even worth the mana it’d take to play with my food.”
With a brutal twist of her tail, she ripped him apart, his body shredding in half before his upper torso collapsed to the ground, twitching.
For a moment, the battlefield was silent.
Then—a rip in the air.
More.
The incubus had opened portals.
From the void, more of them swarmed in, alongside monstrous horrors dragged from the abyss itself. Hellhounds, flesh golems, corrupted knights, and armored riders on demonic steeds.
Lady Aura cracked her neck, rolling her shoulders.
Her hour had just begun.
“Good,” she muttered, flexing her fingers as she stepped forward. “I was starting to think this was going to be boring.”
And with that, she charged.
The battlefield reeked of sugar and sin.
The thick, cloying scent of chocolate filled the air, the unmistakable smell of dying incubus and their summoned monstrosities. It was sickly sweet, mingling with the coppery tang of spilled blood, a perfume of war that only grew stronger as the bodies piled higher and higher.
And Lady Aura was enjoying herself.
She danced between her enemies, weaving through their blades, her hooves light as air, her tail snapping like a conductor’s whip. Every movement was precise, every strike lethal, and as she carved through the battlefield, she sang.
“Come on, left hand, right hand~” she teased, twirling her vine-whip around an incubus’s throat before snapping it tight, crushing his windpipe.
Another lunged—her tail intercepted, spearing through his chest and sending him crashing into another.
“Maybe you lot will learn to do something other than die~”
She laughed, pure and wild, as the ground beneath her rose in answer to her call. The forest itself was alive, shifting to her will, lifting her higher as an elevated mound of earth formed beneath her.
Below, a group of wingless incubus snarled and scrambled to follow.
She let them.
She let them chase, let them think they had her cornered.
Then, she leaped.
The air split as she descended upon them, hooves and tail leading the way, a meteor of sheer force and necrotic power.
UNSTOPPABLE CHARGE—ACTIVATED.
(Charge forward. Nothing can stop you. Knock everything back. Those who collide with terrain are paralyzed.)
The first incubus barely had time to scream before her hooves crashed into his skull, shattering it like a crushed fruit.
The others—those who had been foolish enough to follow—were caught in the impact.
She plowed through them, her sheer momentum unstoppable, sending bodies flying in all directions. Some crashed into trees, the impact paralyzing them instantly as vines twisted out of the bark to ensnare their limp forms.
One unfortunate soul slammed into a jagged boulder, his body folding unnaturally before slumping motionless to the ground.
The rest?
She didn’t even look back as she landed gracefully, effortlessly.
The scent of chocolate grew thicker.
Aura exhaled, savoring it.
Then, she smirked.
“Tch. Pathetic.” She flicked blood from her clawed gauntlet, her glowing green eyes scanning the battlefield for the next unlucky fool.
The incubus were rethinking their approach.
Aura could see it in the way they hesitated, the way their formation shifted. Some had begun spreading out, calculating the ranges of her passives, probing the limits of the forest’s defense.
5 meters.
30 meters.
35 meters.
They were testing her.
The forest was alive, but it was not hunting—only defending. It didn’t chase them beyond its limits, didn’t seek to consume them the way it had done earlier.
Some of the smarter ones—or perhaps the most desperate—began opening summoning portals.
A strategy. Summon an endless horde just outside her range. Wait her out.
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A war of attrition.
She could already hear the whispers.
“She can’t keep this up forever.”
“She has to burn out eventually.”
“We just have to last longer than she does.”
Some were brave enough to say it aloud. Others were smart enough to shut up, knowing that Lady Aura wasn’t just listening.
She was waiting.
They were right about one thing—she couldn’t run.
She didn’t have the luxury of patience.
Not with the numbers against her.
Not with these damn portals opening.
She had to take them out.
Here. Now.
If she could cull the hordes from Tortuga, the mercenaries would eventually cut their losses and leave.
Only the fanatics loyal to Lilith would remain.
And those?
Those, she could kill easily.
Lady Aura felt them before she saw them.
It was not just their power that stained the air—it was their sin.
The battlefield grew colder despite the heat of battle, and the stench of rotting sweetness thickened. It was not like the scent of dying incubus, nor the aroma of their blood-soaked magic.
It was filth.
A filth so deeply ingrained that it could not be washed away.
A filth that had destroyed homes, torn apart families, poisoned love itself.
The moment they stepped through the portal, Lady Aura’s breath hitched.
It wasn’t fear.
It was disgust.
Misery came first—tall, broad-shouldered, cruelly handsome in the way that made men and women alike forget their vows. His violet skin shimmered with unnatural allure, black sigils swirling across his flesh, shifting, breathing, whispering like the ghosts of the ones he had broken.
His eyes—piercing gold, like the sun after a night of sin—gleamed with amusement, as if he already knew the ending to this battle.
The ending to all battles.
Because no one ever won against him.
And then came Despair.
Where her brother was seductive violence, she was the dagger behind the smile.
Her hair fell in silken waves, silver like the promise of an affair in the dark. Her curves, her presence—crafted for betrayal, shaped to ruin. Her lips were a crime waiting to happen, and her voice was the last whisper heard in a home before it was broken.
She was the feeling of cold sheets at night, the absence of a lover who would never return.
She was the ruin that followed infidelity.
Aura didn’t just see them.
She felt them.
Every stolen moment.
Every whispered lie.
Every spouse who had come home to emptiness, confused at first, then shattered.
Every man who had tried to be enough, only to be replaced.
Every woman who had sacrificed everything, only to be discarded.
Misery and Despair.
They weren’t just incubus and succubus.
They were the act of cheating given form.
Aura hated them.
Her stomach twisted in revulsion as she recognized the depths of their corruption.
Misery smirked, stepping forward, arms open like a lover returning home late with a lie on his lips.
“Lady Aura... You look stunning. Still unclaimed, I see?”
Despair giggled, the sound sweet like a mistress’s promise.
“Is it loneliness that makes you so angry? Or is it knowing no one has ever held you the way they hold me?”
Aura snapped her hooves into the dirt, her teeth baring as her tail cracked the air like a whip.
“You two are filth.”
Misery only grinned wider.
“Filth? No, no, no, dear warrior. We are the truth.”
Despair tilted her head, her silver hair cascading over her shoulder like a lover slipping out of someone else’s bed.
“We are love, freed from consequence.”
Aura’s rage burned.
They were worse than Lilith.
Worse than the incubus swarming around them.
Because Lilith used power. These two used weakness.
They twisted emotions. They stole love.
They made men cucks, made women whores against their will.
How many had cried, screaming that they hadn’t meant to do it? That it had just happened?
Aura had heard the stories. Too many stories.
And now, she was done listening.
The earth rumbled beneath her as she activated her next skill.
She raised her hooves high.
Then, she brought them down.
GALLOPING STOMP—ACTIVATED!
(Knocks back and knocks down anything beneath her current level and STR/END stats.)
The battlefield erupted.
The incubus collapsed, their bodies crashing into the dirt as the shockwave rippled outward, breaking the ground itself.
Only Misery and Despair remained standing.
They had taken flight.
They had avoided her stomp.
But they hadn’t avoided her eyes.
And she never looked away.
Misery and Despair spread their wings, their violet-black appendages unfurling like the promise of inevitable ruin. They weren’t just playing with her anymore.
They were hunting her.
Aura’s chest pulsed, and the dead answered.
Her armor shuddered, the bones across her torso splitting apart as spectral skulls erupted outward, firing like a barrage of shrieking wraiths. Their open mouths howled through the air, leaving trails of green necrotic light as they sought her enemies.
Misery and Despair weaved through them, narrowly dodging the onslaught, but they weren’t her only problem.
More incubus. More succubi.
They swarmed like flies, their numbers annoying but not overwhelming.
The fodder no longer mattered.
Only Misery and Despair.
They were too old, too powerful, too dangerous.
Knights of Lilith.
If they made it to Goodnight, they wouldn’t just cause chaos.
They would tear the battlefield apart.
“I have to take them down here.”
Aura moved with the land, the earth rising and shifting beneath her hooves as she tried to bridge the gap, tried to reach them—
But they wouldn’t come down.
She snarled, irritation mounting as she ran her fingers through her hair—
Then it changed.
Her hair hardened, twisting and growing, thick, heavy—turning into massive, deep brown horns.
Her entire body glowed gold, power rising within her—
SLICE.
Pain exploded in her chest.
She felt her body jerk back, blood splattering into the air as the attack sent her crashing into the dirt.
For the first time since the battle began—she had been knocked down.
Misery’s laughter echoed above her.
“Did that hurt, Lady Aura? You should be honored. You just survived my Death Stroke."
Death Stroke.
A technique that carved the air itself, cutting with such precision that even the strongest warriors rarely survived.
Aura’s breath was ragged, her fingers trembling against the dirt.
Not from fear.
From rage.
The fight became vicious.
Back and forth, a deadly dance—
She killed many, but the strongest were growing more calculated.
The numbers became too much.
They piled on her, tearing at her armor, striking from all sides, dragging her out of focus.
Aura gritted her teeth, momentarily losing control—
Then she roared, throwing them off her as she picked her weapons back up.
Her eyes burned, her tail cracked, and she wielded her rage like a blade.
GORE—ACTIVATED!
(A never-ending circling spiked charge. Any caught in its path are crushed and torn apart.)
She twisted, hooves pounding into the dirt as she became a storm of blood and death.
Her body spun, her hooves and tail shredding through enemy ranks, a whirling force of destruction.
They screamed.
They died.
Aura laughed.
She had one final AOE ranged attack, and she would burn them all.
The battlefield became a graveyard.
But then—her transformation time ran out.
The power left her.
Her muscles weakened.
Her tail lost its lethal edge.
Only the forest buff and moon buff remained.
She could still fight—but she wasn’t at her peak anymore.
And Despair noticed.
Her smirk twisted, her eyes darkening as she whispered a command.
“Burn it.”
One of the lesser succubi, still catching her breath, hesitated before asking:
“Burn... what?”
Misery turned to her, golden eyes gleaming.
“Burn the forest.”
Aura’s breath hitched.
Despair laughed, sickly sweet and cruel.
“This beast loves the forest. It protects her. It strengthens her. Let’s destroy it.”
Aura’s tail lashed, her horns cracked the air as she stepped forward.
“Cowards.”
She could feel the trees breathing, the life in the land, the spirits of the old kingdom that had always answered her call.
And now, they would die for her.
“No—”
But it was too late.
The Knights of Lilith began to chant.
Their voices intertwined, dark, low, growing into a maddening echo:
“Burn... burn, oh Hard Ebony Flame…
Release the spark concealed deep down…”
The air crackled.
Blackened energy whirled around them, the force of it sending violent gusts rippling through the battlefield.
The flames had not yet come—but they were inevitable.
“Burn this land in Hell’s fire…
Gone, gone, no more this land—
Unleash from Hell…
“THE IFRIT!”
The world screamed.
The sky split apart as a pillar of ebony fire crashed down.
Aura barely had time to react before the flames consumed everything.
The trees wailed, their roots blackening in an instant, their souls ripped from existence as the fire swallowed them whole.
She felt it.
Her buffs.
Her advantage.
Her home field.
Gone.
The battlefield was ash.
The inferno roared, creeping forward, devouring all in its path.
She had only one chance.
Her hands clawed at the dirt, pressing deep, calling upon the last remnants of the land.
The moment before the flames struck her—her power surged.
UNBURDENED SHIELD—ACTIVATED!
(A one-time barrier against a single attack.)
The flames crashed against her shield, splitting around her, forming a perfect circle of untouched earth where she stood.
Everything beyond it was destroyed.
Her world had turned to ruin.
And then—Lilith’s presence descended.
The shadows twisted, her unseen gaze piercing through the veil, watching through the inferno’s light.
Her voice, cold and cutting, rippled across the battlefield.
“You used my Hellfire?”
Her Knights bowed their heads in reverence.
“We had no choice, my Queen.” Misery’s voice was respectful, but unwavering. “She was still too powerful.”
Lilith’s frown deepened.
She had planned to use that fire on Goodnight itself.
She had wanted it to be her weapon.
But they had wasted it.
Lady Aura’s body screamed, her limbs weak, heavy, unwilling to move. The once-proud centaur stood defeated, her armor gone, her energy drained. The battlefield was nothing but ash and ruin, and her only remaining strength came from the pale light of the full moon.
It wasn’t enough.
Misery and Despair towered over her, their shadows stretching long, their grins razor-sharp.
And above them all, standing with displeasure twisting her face, was Lilith.
She had seen it all.
Her knights had failed her.
Her plans to use Unburdened Hellfire against Goodnight were ruined.
She was furious.
“Idiots.” Lilith’s voice was not a shriek, not a snarl—just cold disappointment. She did not look at Aura. She did not acknowledge her beyond what she was—a wounded animal on its last breath.
Her eyes were on her knights.
“You had every fire spell in existence at your disposal,” she hissed. “And you chose the one I forbade you to use.”
Misery and Despair lowered their heads, the weight of Lilith’s presence forcing them down.
“She was too strong, my Queen,” Misery murmured.
“She still is,” Despair added bitterly, staring at Aura with murder in her eyes.
Lilith sighed, as though this was a chore.
“Then drag her to me. I will end this myself.”
The two knights moved at once.
Aura tried to fight.
She lashed out, hooves striking—but they were faster now.
Lilith’s presence had given them a buff—In the Presence of Royalty.
Their stats doubled.
Misery grabbed her wrist.
Despair grabbed her mane.
She wasn’t fast enough.
She wasn’t strong enough.
They wrenched her down.
The world blurred as she was dragged before Lilith, forced onto her knees like some prisoner of war.
Lilith looked down at her.
She smiled.
“Now, Lady Aura… let’s be reasonable. Give me the Water.”
Aura spat blood, smirking even as it dribbled down her chin. “I don’t have it.”
Lilith clicked her tongue. “Lying will not help you.”
She squatted before Aura, resting her delicate fingers beneath the centaur’s chin.
Her nails dragged against her skin, tilting Aura’s face up, forcing her to meet her serpent’s gaze.
“I can keep them from hurting you, you know,” Lilith purred. “Just tell me where it is.”
Aura chuckled, her voice raw, wheezing.
“There is not a damned thing any of your people are strong enough to demand from me.”
Lilith’s smile faltered.
The mockery cut deeper than any wound.
Aura closed her eyes, exhaling softly.
She could feel it.
Her body breaking down.
Her time running out.
She had one last card to play.
She burned through her last reserves of mana, forcing her transformation back.
The change was instantaneous—violent.
Her veins burned, her bones twisted, black and green lightning crawling across her skin like living tendrils of power.
It hurt.
It hurt more than it ever had before.
Lilith’s brows furrowed—a flicker of uncertainty.
“She’s doing it again,” Despair warned, wings twitching.
“She’s desperate.”
“Then kill her.” Lilith ordered, standing tall.
Misery and Despair struck at once.
They came from all angles, all at once.
Blades. Spears. Daggers.
Everything impaling her, stabbing her through flesh and muscle, blood pouring from her wounds.
She coughed, her vision swimming.
Misery crouched, smirking.
“How do you want to die?”
Aura gasped, wheezing.
And then she laughed.
Her voice shook, broken and rasping, but the smile never left her face.
“Laughing… with a smile.”
Despair sneered. “Too bad.”
She leaned in, whispering against Aura’s bloodied ear.
“We’re bringing you back as an undead. We’re going to stretch every one of these new holes we just made… and then the ones we didn’t.”
Aura’s body shuddered.
Not in fear.
In recognition.
She was almost out of time.
And so, she remembered.
The last memory of Tenebrae before he became the Lich Prince.
“With this, a part of my necromancy will always be with you. Even if it’s not much, it’s a part of my own aura. Careful not to use it without protection—it knows me as its Master, but not you so much...”
She had always known the cost.
Necromancy did not give without taking.
She inhaled.
She let the pain consume her.
Then—
She let it out.
And the world erupted in green and black lightning.
The battlefield cracked apart, the air splitting with howling, eldritch shrieks.
Misery and Despair had no time to react.
The lightning found them.
It tore through their bodies, their flesh rotting, peeling, unraveling in an instant.
They screamed, but there was no escape.
They weren’t just dying.
They were being erased.
Their souls shattered, torn from their physical forms and cast into the void.
And Lilith?
Lilith froze.
She felt it.
Not Aura’s power.
His power.
She saw the black lightning.
She saw the corrupted necromantic energy.
She saw him.
Her breath hitched.
Her hands shook.
Tenebrae.
Burning through Aura.
Burning through her.
The energy reached her, and for the first time in centuries—Lilith screamed.
Her skin blackened, cracked, charred.
Her flesh sizzled, the once-flawless Queen now burnt, raw, desecrated by something she had sworn was dead.
She staggered back, clutching her arms, her breath ragged, eyes wide.
Aura saw it.
Saw the fear.
Lilith wasn’t afraid of losing.
Lilith was afraid of him.
The one she betrayed.
The one she thought was dead.
Aura grinned through the pain, her body already crumbling.
Pain was a constant now.
It no longer came in waves—it was not something she could fight, nor something she could endure.
It was woven into her existence, wrapping itself around her body like the chains of death, dragging her toward the inevitable.
Her flesh was unraveling.
Every pulse of green and black lightning tore another piece of her away, peeling her apart from the inside out. The power she had unleashed was not meant to be wielded by her.
It did not care about her body.
It did not care about her will.
It only cared about consuming.
Her bones cracked.
Her muscles melted.
Her very essence began to fracture, splintering into nothing.
And yet—she smiled.
Lilith watched, her skin blackened and burned, her body charred but still standing.
Misery and Despair were gone, their souls torn from their bodies, cast back into the void from which they came.
But Aura was fading, too.
She was dying.
And she knew it.
Her hooves buckled, her body swaying, but she did not fall in fear.
She fell laughing.
It was not bitter.
It was not broken.
It was triumphant.
Because they didn’t win.
Because even if she was Forsaken, they would never have her.
Her final breath was stolen by the wind, her final sight was the ashen battlefield, and her final thought was of the young man who she was proud to call her adopted son.
Of the boy who had once starved in silence.
Of the boy who had loved her cooking, even when it was nothing but rice and grass.
Of the boy who had once been human. She smiled because she knew exactly what hell was coming for them.
And then—
Lady Aura was gone.
But
Lilith stood shaking.
Her fingers trembled, her breath came in shallow gasps, her once-immaculate skin now charred and cracked from the power that had washed over her.
Her lips quivered, but she could not stop the whisper from escaping.
“T… T… T…Tenebrae…”
The sound of his name on her tongue sent a violent shudder through her body.
She was a Queen.
She was untouchable.
She was power itself.
And yet, at that moment—she felt as small as a dying ember.
