Chapter 196: Chapter 196: Before The Storm

​A few hours after the Lich’s ashes were swept away by the wind, Zero Castle finally fell into an oppressive silence.

​Dayat walked with slumped shoulders, carrying Dola toward the Medical Wing.

​Every step felt as heavy as lead—not because of the weight in his arms, but due to a bone-deep exhaustion that seemed to drain his very marrow. His silver-blue armor had dissolved, leaving behind a black tactical jacket torn in several places. His fingers trembled slightly as the adrenaline that had peaked earlier began to recede, replaced by a dull numbness.

​Dola felt light, far too light for Dayat. Yet, the crimson stain spreading across his wife’s white cloak—warm blood still seeping from her shoulder—made Dayat feel as though he were carrying the entire weight of the world.

​"Hmm... I’m alright," Dola whispered. Her voice was thin, nearly swallowed by the uneven rhythm of Dayat’s footsteps.

​"Tsk, don’t lie." Dayat tightened his embrace.

​"I’m not lying. I just... need to close my eyes for a moment."

​Dayat chose silence. He pushed forward until he arrived at the Medical Wing. Creak... the door slid open automatically, leaving a faint screech from hinges that were beginning to wear down. He laid Dola onto the bed with incredibly gentle movements.

​He carefully removed Dola’s cloak. The blood on her shoulder was still wet, contrasting sharply with her pale skin. "Lunethra closed the wound earlier, didn’t she?" Dayat murmured, wiping away the excess blood with a damp cloth. Splash... the sound of water in the small basin echoed clearly in the silence. "Look at this, you went and overexerted yourself again."

​"I had to do it, Dayat."

​"Eh, you always have an excuse for being stubborn."

​Dola didn’t argue. She simply watched her husband’s face. Dayat’s fingers moved with a calm precision—a legacy of the Maiden’s knowledge now dwelling within his mind. Though those hands had just shattered the soul-core of a Lich, when they touched Dola’s skin, they turned as soft as a passing breeze.

​Once the final bandage was tied tight, Dayat stood and walked to the sink in the corner. Gush... cold water flowed over his hands. The blood clinging to the crevices of his fingers dissolved, turning into a pink swirl before vanishing down the drain.

​It was then that his eyes caught a long gash on his own arm. The blood had already darkened at the edges. He hadn’t even realized when the wound had appeared. Perhaps when he charged the bone spire, or perhaps when the Lich’s lash of green energy had grazed him.

​"You’re wounded too."

​Dayat turned. Dola was watching him from the bed, her dim blue eyes harboring deep concern.

​"Oh, this? Just a small scratch."

​"Here. Come here."

​Dayat hesitated for a moment but eventually approached. Dola reached for Dayat’s wrist—the same hand that had just tended to her. With weak movements, Dola took the damp cloth and cleaned her husband’s wound. The coldness of Dola’s fingers touching his skin made Dayat flinch slightly.

​"You always forget about yourself," Dola whispered softly.

​"I don’t forget," Dayat finally replied, staring straight into Dola’s eyes. "It’s just... there are things far more important to protect."

​"Me, you mean?"

​Dayat didn’t answer. He simply let the silence serve as the most honest confirmation for them both.

​Once Dayat’s wound was clean, Dola set the cloth back down. Her hand remained clasped around his, reluctant to let go. "You won today."

​"We won, Dola."

​"Hmm, today, yes. But Wabil is still out there."

​Dayat pulled up a chair and sat beside the bed—the same position he had held while waiting for Dola to wake from her long coma. "I know."

​"She will come."

​"When?"

​"Soon. Perhaps tomorrow, or the day after. She won’t give us time to breathe. She is angry, Dayat. I can feel her rage pulsing all the way here. This time... there will be no negotiations."

​Dayat squeezed Dola’s hand, tighter than before. "Good. Let her try."

​In the backyard, Kancil sat dejectedly atop a large hunk of stone.

​The mounds of Plagueborne corpses were gone—Loy and Riri had just finished dragging the rotting remains outside the castle gates. There was no tribute, no prayer, only the stinging stench of decay before nature reclaimed its rot. However, Kancil’s mind was elsewhere.

​He stared blankly at the dark ruins of the control room. No longer did the pendar of binary lights bring the room to life. And most stifling of all, there was no longer the sound of Dalgor grumbling about how terrible Dayat’s coffee tasted.

​Kancil stroked the cold surface of the Desert Eagle in his hand. Click... the sound of the trigger being pulled without a chambered round sounded crisp.

​Loy and Riri emerged from the shadows of the destroyed buildings. They sat on Kancil’s left and right without saying a word. The silence lasted quite a while until Riri finally broke it.

​"I’m going to get stronger," Riri said suddenly, her tone far firmer this time. "I promise. I don’t want to just be a burden that has to be protected all the time."

​Loy gripped Riri’s small fingers. "Me too. The three of us have to be tougher. Right, Kancil?"

​Kancil turned to his two friends and gave a resolute nod. "Yes. The three of us."

​In the kitchen, Lunethra was busy at the hearth.

​It felt strange, continuing to cook in the middle of a castle that was nearly rubble. Yet, for Lunethra, this was the only ritual that kept her sane. Thud... thud... thud... the sound of her knife rhythmically slicing vegetables echoed against the wooden cutting board. The water in the cauldron began to boil, sending up clouds of steam that carried the aroma of savory broth throughout the room.

​She was cooking in large portions. Perhaps as a reserve, or perhaps because she wanted to ensure that at least tonight, they could feel the warmth of a proper meal.

​The kitchen door creaked open. Dayat entered, his face looking incredibly weary. "Aren’t you resting, Lun?"

​"I can’t sleep if my stomach is empty." Lunethra didn’t turn around, her hands busy stirring the soup. "How is Dola?"

​"She’s asleep."

​"Good."

​Dayat pulled out a wooden chair with a slightly wobbly leg. Lunethra placed a bowl of hot soup in front of him. "Eat. You haven’t touched food since dawn."

​Dayat stared at the steam dancing above his bowl. He took a spoon. Slurp... the warm broth flowed down his throat, giving a bit of life to his nearly numb body. "Thanks, Lun."

​Lunethra sat across from him, resting her chin on her hands. "Wabil is really coming, isn’t she?"

​"Yes."

​"Do we have a chance at winning?"

​Dayat paused his eating for a moment, looking into Lunethra’s eyes. "We will survive. That is the promise I made to all of you."

​Lunethra nodded slowly. She didn’t need a technical explanation; that answer was enough for her.

​That night, Dayat gathered everyone in The Heart of Logic.

​The purple throne in the center of the room looked cracked on one side, a silent witness to the magical earthquake from the other day. Yet, the room remained the center of gravity for them. Kancil sat upright with his Desert Eagle on his lap. Loy and Riri gripped each other’s hands tightly. Lunethra stood alert near the entrance. Dola—despite still being wrapped in bandages—insisted on sitting beside Dayat. 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

​"It isn’t over," Dayat began, his voice low yet echoing in the quiet room. "I know you are all exhausted. I am as well. But Wabil is still out there, and she will come herself. This time... she won’t be playing around anymore."

​Kancil looked straight into Dayat’s eyes. "What’s the estimate, Brother?"

​"Tomorrow, or the day after. Dola feels she’s run out of patience."

​"So, what’s the plan?"

​Dayat looked at them one by one, from Kancil to Lunethra. "Survival. Do whatever it takes to stay alive. No one else falls. I have promised that to you."

​Lunethra stepped forward slightly. "But Dayat, this castle is in a critical state. The shields are dead, the sensors are paralyzed. We have no fortress left to hide in."

​"I know." Dayat clenched his fist on the table. "But we are the fortress ourselves. We have no other choice."

​Silence fell for a moment.

​"In that case," Kancil stood from his chair, his face looking far more mature than his age. "Let’s just face her at the gates. I’m tired of constantly running."

​Loy and Riri stood up as well. "We’re with you, Brother."

​Lunethra gave a firm nod. "I’m staying right here."

​Dola didn’t speak, but her hand squeezed Dayat’s fingers under the table. A wordless support stronger than any spell.

​Night turned to dawn. Morning passed into afternoon, and then night returned to claim them.

​Strangely, there was no attack. The Forest of Lamentation felt unnaturally quiet—a suffocating silence, as if the black trees themselves were holding their breath, waiting for something terrible to fall from the sky.

​Dayat stood silently in front of the shattered castle gates. His silver-blue armor hummed actively, the purple-green sword in his hand emitting a restless glow. Beside him, Dola stood tall despite the stinging pain in her shoulder.

​Suddenly, the air around them grew heavy.

​It wasn’t a vibration of the earth, nor the sound of marching steps. It was an invisible pressure descending from the heavens, as if the atmosphere had suddenly turned into mercury, pressing down on their shoulders and making their knees feel weak. The fog before them slowly changed color—no longer toxic green, but a pitch-black as dark as ink.

​Dola stiffened. Her eyes blazed a bright blue, brighter than usual. "Hah... she’s here."

​From behind the dense black fog, a figure drifted slowly closer. A white dress, soiled and tattered; long black hair covering half her face; and long black claws curving sharply.

​However, this time, Wabil of Plague did not carry a smile on her pale face.