The Devil's Warrior Queen-Chapter 260: The Final Destination

Immediately they arrived, both Malika and Zamiel arrived at the vicinity as they materialized out of thin air.

Morwana’s icy gaze momentarily shifted to the new arrivals and a daunting smile curved up the edges of her lips "Oh, we have company."

The Darkness coiled and snaked around her form as she moved, her sinister eyes surveying them, until it lingered on Rama with an unwavering intensity that made chills run down her spine.

The cold midnight air suddenly felt suffocating immediately her frigid, callous eyes pierced into hers. Her black eyes retained no light in them, not even the moon could be reflected in them as her midnight orbs swallowed even the faintest glimmer.

"What a beautiful mate you received Draco, after all the ugliness in that heart of yours." Morwana remarked, her alluring yet menacing voice weaved through the darkness to sate the air with an ominous cadence.

"Do you know what you have done?" Draco ignored her as he directed his gaze to Lucifer who was standing behind her while his form was merged with the shadows.

"Punishing you like I promised, yet you look so shocked." Lucifer spoke with an indifferent calmness as he stepped out of the shadows.

Draco’s jaws ticked as his orbs burned with a fiery intensity "How did you release her?"

"The curious angel broke the rift she was trapped in, all I did was lift the lid." Lucifer answered rather blatantly.

Malika’s heart raced with the symphony of guilt and fear as she heard him speak, her eyes widened like saucers and her heart caught in her throat as she instinctively sought to defend her innocence "I didn’t release her! I only touched the lid and then...then..." She trailed off as the realization of what she had done hit her.

"And then you broke the rift." Lucifer added in, his smooth silky voice sliding through the wind in a hypnotic manner.

"I didn’t mean to..." Her voice broke as tears flooded her eyes.

"Save your tears, it’s already done." Draco said in a tepid voice, although a trace of displeasure could be faintly perceptible in it. He wasn’t pleased one bit with the uncanny situation, but there was no use crying over spilt milk, they just had to solve the problem now.

"You should have accepted my offer and then, you would have lived." Lucifer stated in a pitiful tone, but the void in his eyes was far from pitiful, only cold darkness reflected within it.

"That’s enough talking, it’s time to put the both of you back in your boxes." Draco brazenly interrupted as a fierce gleam flashed in his eyes.

"You have no idea how long I have waited to finally take my revenge, I’ll eat your mate’s soul and watch the light in her eyes go out while you beg on your knees for her life." Morwana hissed as she lunged at him with remarkable precision.

Rama shuddered in fear as she backed away from the clash between the two malevolent forces. The earth quaked under the intensifying blast that erupted from their being.

The moment Zamiel took a step toward them as he proceeded to join the fight, thick, smoky tendrils coiled around him, snaking over his form to restrict his movement as it brought him down to his knees while he struggled with futile efforts to break out of the devil’s hold.

His veins popped as he clutched his fists, trying to summon the infernal energy within him, but the devil’s infernal powers were no match for him, still nevertheless, he never stopped trying relentlessly to break out from the entrapment.

Lucifer shot a glance at the girls, giving them an empty, sadistic grin, he said "Stay put and enjoy the fight or you’ll have to end up like him."

Malika and Rama, unable to do anything stayed still as they watched him join Morwana in trying to weaken Draco. His movement was a shadowy languid step as he hauled like the wind toward Draco who was busy waging a hectic war with Morwana.

Malika exchanging glances between Zamiel and Rama panicked with a dreary countenance "What do we do Rama?"

"I don’t know." Rama croaked, the lingering taste of fear spread on her tongue, her heart throbbing with amplifying panic and doubt.

Malika squeezed her shoulders gently as she turned her body to face her, averting her gaze from the destructive fight taking place.

"Look at me Rama, everything will be fine." Malika said, her voice quavering under the force of uncertainty and fear.

Rama shrouded in a garment of dread and anxiety, wondered how frail and fragile Malika was still able to maintain her composure. Malika returned her gaze to Zamiel, eagerness flitted through her eyes to help him.

"Just don’t do anything, listen to Draco." Malika said before rushing over to Zamiel.

Bound by dark tendrils that coiled around him like malevolent serpents, he remained ensnared in the Devil’s nefarious grip.

Dark tendrils, sinister extensions of the Devil’s malevolence, coiled around Zamiel’s form, binding him in an unyielding embrace that threatened to snuff out the faint glimmer of light within him.

Driven by an unwavering resolve, Malika extended her hands, radiant with celestial energy. Her wings unfurled majestically from her back, emitting a soothing luminescence that pushed back against the oppressive darkness surrounding Zamiel. With a whispered incantation of the ajr borne of ancient celestial magic, she began her valiant attempt to free him from the Devil’s treacherous hold.

Pulses of celestial energy cascaded from Malika’s fingertips, weaving intricate patterns in the air as she channeled her innate powers. The tendrils recoiled momentarily, hissing and contorting in protest against the celestial onslaught, but Malika’s determination remained unshaken.

Zamiel, caught in the midst of the struggle between light and darkness, stirred as the tendrils momentarily slackened their grip. A glimmer of recognition flickered in his eyes, a distant echo of the love and bond he shared with Malika amidst the suffocating embrace of darkness.

Emboldened by this fleeting connection, Malika intensified her efforts, her celestial powers surging forth with renewed vigor. The tendrils quivered and writhed, their hold weakening under the onslaught of her radiant energy. Each surge of celestial power brought Zamiel closer to liberation, inch by agonizing inch.

Yet, the Devil’s powers, woven from eons of malevolence, were tenacious. The tendrils, though weakened, fought back with renewed ferocity, resisting Malika’s efforts to break their suffocating hold completely.

In futile efforts, the tendrils coiled even more tighter around Zamiel’s body with each attempt she made, leaving him in agonizing pain.

Malika, realizing she was making it worse, immediately stopped with a remorseful glint in her eyes as she caressed his face.

Rama focused her attention back on the fight as they both attacked Draco relentlessly. Morwana’s eyes, pools of abyssal darkness, bore the weight of countless souls she had claimed. Her presence invoked a sense of unease, and whispers of her essence whisked through the air.

Opposing her stood the Devil in the fight, a figure of malevolence and unparalleled power, cloaked in shadows that danced to the rhythm of his relentless fury. His features contorted with a primal rage that emanated from eons of darkness and control. His eyes, like fiery infernos, blazed with an insatiable hunger for dominance.

Draco, standing as the focal point of this cataclysmic encounter, found himself besieged by the combined onslaught of these formidable adversaries. He was torn between the echoes of his father’s relentless darkness and the ephemeral whispers of a distant, flickering light, a spark of something that beckoned him toward a different destiny.

The fighting scene unfolded with an intensity that shook the very fabric of reality. Arcane energies crackled through the air as the Goddess of Death and the Devil coordinated their assault, their motivations entwined in an unholy alliance aimed at weakening the son’s resolve.

The Goddess wielded the power of entropy, casting ethereal chains that sought to shackle the Draco’s spirit. Her relentless pursuit of inevitability manifested in a chilling display of dark tendrils that snaked around the battlefield, coiling with a malevolent intent to ensnare and extinguish the faint ember of humanity within the son.

Meanwhile, the Devil unleashed torrents of raw, chaotic power. Dark flames leapt from his fingertips, weaving a tapestry of destruction that threatened to consume everything in its path. His relentless barrage was aimed not just at his son’s physical form but also at the fragile strands of hope that lingered within the depths of the son’s tormented soul.

Draco fought valiantly, a lone figure amidst the tempest of malevolent forces. He wielded his own burgeoning powers, an amalgamation of darkness and an unyielding determination to resist the all-encompassing embrace of his forebears’ malevolence. Every strike he landed echoed with a tumultuous conflict, a struggle between the oppressive legacy of his lineage and the nascent yearning for a different destiny.

The battleground bore witness to a cataclysmic clash, where reality itself seemed to warp and tremble under the sheer magnitude of the confrontation. The very ground quaked with the force of their powers, and the air crackled with a volatile energy that left an indelible mark on the desolate wasteland.

Amidst the chaos, Draco teetered on the brink of surrender, overwhelmed by the combined might of the Goddess of Death and the Devil. His spirit faltered, the flickering ember of hope threatened to be snuffed out by the relentless onslaught of darkness.

Yet, in a fleeting moment of clarity amidst the turmoil, an echo of distant memories surged within him as he exchanged glances with Rama a few meters away from him, he could see her restless demeanor as she proceeded to help him but he shook his head, warning her with a deathly glare to stay back.

With newfound resolve, he summoned the last vestiges of his inner strength, pushing back against the relentless assault.

The battlefield erupted in consuming darkness as Draco tapped into an untapped wellspring of power within. A surge of ethereal energy emanated from him, an abyss of darkness that momentarily overwhelmed the forces arrayed against him.

As Rama watched the battle weave under the dim moonlight, she realized they were at the final destination, or was it?

This content is taken from fr(e)ewebn(o)vel.𝓬𝓸𝓶