ONE NIGHT STAND WITH HOT DUKE-Chapter 25: End of war

Kaiser roared, channeling his aura into his blade and slashing the ground in a sweeping arc.

The force slammed into the witch, hurling her across the clearing. She hit the ground hard, coughing blood, but she smiled, baring sharp fox-like teeth.

"Impressive... the heir to the throne is not as weak as I thought."

Kaiser steadied his breathing, raising his sword again."I’m not the heir in your fairy tales. I am a knight of the Empire."

The witch rose to her feet, magic flaring violently around her, golden and blue light swirling like a storm.

"Very well," she whispered, eyes drifting ominously toward Valerie’s tent."Let’s see who survives until dawn."

The camp exploded into chaos once more, filled with magic, steel, blood, and unrelenting determination.

Kaiser had finally found the opening he had been waiting for. 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

After nearly ten relentless minutes of battle, cutting through illusions, blocking waves of magic, and directing the troops to hold the line, he noticed the moment when the fox sorcerer faltered. The wound on the sorcerer’s shoulder had begun to slow his movements, and the once-ferocious aura around him flickered, unstable.

This was it.

With a burst of speed that stunned even his own soldiers, Kaiser launched himself forward. His blade swept low across the ground, shattering the last illusion and forcing the fox sorcerer into his true form.

The sorcerer opened his mouth, whether to cast a spell or release another burst of energy, no one would ever know.

Kaiser was faster.

His boot crashed hard into the sorcerer’s chest. The impact sent the fox-shifter crashing into a tree, the crack of the collision echoing through the camp. He hit the ground coughing blood, body trembling.

Before he could recover, Morvex soldiers swarmed, forming a tight ring around him.

"It’s over," Kaiser murmured, stepping closer.

The fox sorcerer snarled weakly, but it came out more like a whimper as a captain forced both of his arms behind his back. His form flickered desperately, half human, half beast, proof that his magic was destabilizing.

"P...Prince..." the sorcerer rasped, but Kaiser’s expression was cold as steel.

"Enough. You won’t lay a finger on Valerie ever again."

At Kaiser’s signal, the soldiers moved swiftly.

They brought out enchanted restraint leather, bindings designed specifically for magical creatures. The straps wrapped tightly around the sorcerer’s wrists behind his back, then around his ankles. Another soldier bound the fox tail so it couldn’t be used to channel magic.

"Hey-!" the sorcerer snarled, trying to bite.

Kaiser frowned. "Silence him."

One soldier forced the sorcerer’s head down while another fitted a gag, light metal, but inscribed with suppression sigils. As soon as it clicked into place, the sorcerer’s voice vanished, cut off completely.

His eyes still darted, furious, calculating.

"Blindfold him too," Kaiser ordered.

A dark cloth embedded with anti-illusion magic was pulled over the sorcerer’s eyes, blocking not only sight but also any magical perception.

Now the creature lay on the ground, hands bound, legs tied, tail secured, mouth sealed, eyes covered.

No spells.

No illusions.

No transformations.

Just ragged, angry breathing.

Kaiser stood over him, sword dripping from the battle.

"Take him to the holding cell," Kaiser commanded, voice low and cold."If he tries to escape... break his legs."

"Yes, Your Highness!" the soldiers answered in unison.

As they dragged the bound sorcerer away, Kaiser watched him one last time, his gaze sharp and unforgiving.

"You wanted Valerie," Kaiser muttered softly."Now you’re going to tell me who sent you."

That night, the battle for the camp ended in the Prince’s victory.But beneath that victory, one truth became clear:

Whoever was after Valerie... was no ordinary enemy.

And a far larger secret was waiting to surface.

While chaos thundered through the rear camp where Kaiser fought, the battlefield under Demian’s command had transformed into a hell that he controlled completely.

Amid the blaze of burning tents and the thick metallic scent of blood, bodies of enemy soldiers carpeted the ground. Their formation had shattered, their morale destroyed, none could withstand the brutal advance of Morvex forces... nor the man who stood alone at their vanguard.

Duke Demian Morvex, the Demon Wolf of Morvex.

The enemy king, the true mastermind behind the treacherous attack on Valerie’s camp, now faced him directly. His royal cloak was torn and stained with mud, and the sword in his trembling hand slipped with every breath, shaken not by exhaustion, but terror.

"Y–You were supposed to leave the front," the king stammered, stumbling backward. "You were supposed to rush back to your camp, your attention should be there—"

Demian did not respond.

He simply advanced, each step heavy with cold fury, his cloak snapping behind him in the night wind. The flames reflected in his pitch-black eyes, revealing a rage he had held tightly since reading Noel’s letter.

"Y–You should be fighting there, not—"

"Silence."Demian’s voice cut through the battlefield like a blade—quiet, low, and deadly."You don’t get to dictate where I fight."

The king panicked and lunged forward with a desperate, sloppy strike. Demian shifted to the side with the ease of someone stepping away from a falling leaf, and with one clean movement, clang! the king’s sword flew from his hands, skidding across the bloodstained earth.

In the blink of an eye, Demian was already in front of him.

The king collapsed onto the ground, scrambling backward on shaking hands. "W-Wait! please,"

"You invaded my camp," Demian said, his tone calm but poisonous."You touched my soldiers."His eyes narrowed, dark and merciless."And you tried to take my woman."

The king froze, his breath trapped in his throat.

One swift swing, precise, merciless, final, and the king’s body crumpled. His blood joined the rest soaking the ground.

Silence blanketed the battlefield.

Enemy soldiers who were still alive turned, horror dawning on their faces as they saw their king fall. Panic surged through their ranks, some threw down their weapons, others tried to flee, but none made it far.

The Morvex Knights surged forward, wiping out the remnants of the enemy force with decisive efficiency.

Minutes later, only one figure remained standing tall amid the ruined battleground.

Demian.

One of his commanders approached cautiously."Complete victory is ours, Your Grace."

Demian slid his blood-streaked sword back into its scabbard, his breathing steady, as if the massacre had been nothing more than a warm-up exercise.

But his eyes...His eyes were darker than ever, filled with a worry he could barely restrain.

"Ready the horses," he ordered, his voice low and sharp."We return to camp. Now."