The Grand Duke's Soulmate-Chapter 559: When the Guardian Arrives

Brone dragged Anna along the narrow path towards the dense line of pine trees, his grip bruising around her arm.

"Let go of me, you sc*mbag!" Anna shouted.

Her eyes were swollen from crying, and her lips were trembling with barely contained fury.

A bright red mark stained one cheek; the sting of Derek’s slap was still fresh. Irritated by her resistance, Brone came to an abrupt stop and jerked her forward, forcing her to face him.

"Stop it! One more word and I’ll slap your other cheek," Brone threatened.

Anna’s glare only sharpened. Without hesitation, she spat at him.

"You’re a liar," she hissed. "You promised to spare them if I surrendered, yet you still attacked Sir McQuinn the moment I gave myself up! You’re all the same!"

Brone wiped the spit from his cheek, his jaw tightening.

"Tchk. Should’ve known you’d be trouble! So, you really want to make this difficult, huh?" he scoffed, leaning in closer. "Keep struggling, and I’ll turn back immediately. Your knights are barely breathing. It wouldn’t take me a moment to finish the job."

"No!" Anna gasped, concern flickering in her eyes.

She had no way of knowing what state the others were in. Even though she had seen the brilliant spark of the firework signal and heard the distant echo of the hollow horn, the Bargesian leader hadn’t shown an ounce of concern.

His power had already crushed the skilled and renowned Knights of Gerhard and subdued the Mederian Princess. Another squad wouldn’t stand a chance, and they would meet the same fate.

"Enough, both of you!" Derek snapped.

His eyes shifted coldly between Anna and Brone. Then his gaze fixed on the princess.

"Don’t tempt to provoke us again, princess, or I’ll make sure that child of yours will never be born! Got it?"

Anna froze, her face drained of colour.

"No... please!" she begged. "Don’t hurt my baby. I’ll do anything... just don’t hurt my child."

"Then move!" the mage snapped, shoving her forward.

Anna stumbled, barely catching herself before she fell. Sorrow welled up inside her—thick, suffocating, impossible to swallow.

She had prayed for a miracle... and heaven had answered, sending the Knights of Gerhard and Callis, the Mederian Princess, to her aid.

But even they had fallen, crushed beneath Brone’s monstrous strength and the dark magic Derek wielded. What miracle was left for her now? What hope could possibly remain?

’Kyren... Kyren...’

Anna’s heart whispered the grand duke’s name over and over, clinging to him like a drowning woman reaching for air.

There was no way for her to call out to him, no way for him to know she was here, yet he was the only person her soul could seek.

Then, suddenly, she felt something; an all-too-familiar pull, a faint warmth blooming in her chest. A sensation she had once known so well.

Was it him?

The princess halted her move, her head turning.

"Why are you stopping? Do you really want to do it the hard way?" Brone reprimanded her.

Anna didn’t respond. There was nothing in her sight, yet the feeling got stronger. It was as if the wind was whispering to her ears, assuring her troubled heart that Kyren was coming for her.

The Bargesian leader was pissed off again. But, before he could retort further, a distant thunder rolled through the forest.

’Drdrdrdrdrdr...’

The unmistakable pounding of hooves was fast and closing in.

Anna’s irises dilated. Without even seeing the figure, she already sensed that Kyren had arrived.

Brone’s head snapped toward the sound, his grip on Anna tightening subconsciously.

"What the h*ll? Are your st*pid knights not afraid of death, or are they just blindly loyal to a pathetic wh*re like you?" Brone snarled. "You told them to stay back, yet they’re still coming!"

"That’s not my knights," Anna shot back, lifting her chin. "That’s my guardian. And I am not a whore. I am the Great Khasif!"

"You? The Great Khasif?"

Brone’s eyes widened. Even Derek blinked, momentarily taken aback. And then the two burst out laughing.

"She’s lost her mind!" the Bargesian leader remarked. "Claiming to be the first Ro’an Emperor...ha ha ha! That emperor’s been dead for ages, you delusional w*nch! Stop spouting nonsense!"

Anna didn’t bother explaining further. Brone and Derek had mocked her relentlessly ever since they realised she carried the Ro’an bloodline.

Her weakened state only fueled their contempt. Any attempt to justify herself would only give them more to sneer at.

Yet, despite all their taunts, the irony was unmistakable: They still believed in the power running through her veins and were eager to have it, so much for their empty bravado.

The forest behind them suddenly quivered. Leaves shook, snow fell from the branches, and the ground vibrated under their feet as someone charged through the woods with unstoppable force.

From the shadowy gap between the trees, Maximillian burst into view—hooves pounding, and mane whipping like a banner in the wind.

Then, with a swift move, Kyren vaulted off the racing stallion. He descended like a streak of steel, landing in a low, controlled crouch that exuded a commanding presence.

Maximillian galloped past the three figures and finally halted several paces away, snorting clouds of frost into the air.

Kyren’s sword was already drawn, the silver blade gleaming coldly as he rose to his full height. His eyes locked on Anna and then on the hands holding her.

"Let my wife go!" he commanded, his voice as cold as ice.

Anna struggled to break free, but Brone’s grip was too firm. The Bargesian leader laughed harshly.

"Wife? I thought she was your concubine!"

Kyren’s jaw tightened, anger crossing his face when he saw his wife’s dishevelled state.

"You filthy b*stard!" he growled. "I swear I’ll rip your tongue out today!"

Brone smirked, amused by the fury.

"Oh, look at that. The mighty Grand Duke finally shows his true colours. No wonder she surrendered... must be hard protecting a woman you can’t even keep safe."

"Give. Her. Back." Kyren took a step forward, blade raised.

"Not a chance." Brone tightened his grip on Anna’s arm. "She’s ours!"

Anna tried to speak, her voice breaking through their clash.

"Kyren! Wait! Listen to me! I need your—"

But before she could complete her move, Brone roughly pushed her toward Derek, causing her to scream in pain.

"Take her!" he barked to his companion.

Derek grabbed her instantly, dragging her back from the chaos that was about to erupt.

"You r*scal! You hurt my wife!" Kyren roared, his heart boiling in rage.

"I’ll do as I please with her! You want her so badly? Then, come and take her yourself!" Brone taunted, a cruel grin stretching across his face as he beckoned with a flick of his hand.

Without a moment’s hesitation, the grand duke surged forward. Brone’s monstrous, darkened limb shot toward him with terrifying speed, carrying a force that seemed unnatural.

Kyren barely had time to parry, steel clashing against the strange, sinewy arm. Sparks erupted where sword met dark flesh, snow scattering beneath their feet with every violent impact.

His eyes widened as he took in the limb—twisted, malformed, and radiating an ominous aura with its claws. It was unlike anything he had ever seen.

Brone’s right limb had been completely severed during the hunt, wholly detached from his body. How could it then regenerate and have such tremendous power?

Kyren’s thoughts immediately turned to Saures’s warning. The Bargesians were wielding dark magic, a force so potent that none of the tribesmen had a chance to resist.

This grotesque, clawed limb was clearly a manifestation of that withcraft. How they had acquired such an ability was unknown, but its deadly potential was obvious.

The grand duke shook off the brief shock, reasserting his focus on the fight.

Brone lashed out again, the limb striking like a living weapon, coiling around air as if it had a mind of its own.

Kyren responded to each strike with swift, agile moves, parrying and sidestepping as his longsword collided with the dark appendage, producing a metallic scream. The intensity of their fight caused tremors to ripple through the battle.

From the side, Anna’s panicked cries rang out, "Kyren! Watch out! You can’t—!"

"Shut up!" Derek barked, yanking her roughly and forcing her back.

The princess faltered but held her ground, her eyes fixed on the fight as she desperately tried to speak. She needed to warn her husband about Brone’s advantage. However, circumstances prevented her.

Meanwhile, the mage was holding her and continuously scolding her, making it harder to convey the message.

Kyren gritted his teeth, ignoring the shouting around him, as he countered Brone’s relentless attacks.

He pivoted sharply to the left, avoiding a second strike that would have cleaved through his torso, and countered with a horizontal slash aimed at Brone’s arm.

The dark limb recoiled but twisted violently, forcing Kyren to leap back.

Brone lunged, swinging the limb and aiming it low to crush Kyren’s knees.

The grand duke dropped into a crouch, rolling beneath the strike, then sprang up to deliver a thrust aimed at Brone’s side.

The limb recoiled again, claws scraping against the steel with a screeching sound that made Kyren’s ears ring.

He blocked another thrust and twisted the longsword, redirecting Brone’s momentum, then countered with a flurry of strikes aimed at the monstrous limb, testing its durability while keeping his own stance balanced and nimble.

This time, the calculated drive landed true. The sharp tip of Kyren’s blade tore vertically into the Bargesian leader’s shoulder, inching dangerously close to his heart.

The grand duke’s resolve hardened as Brone faltered for the first time, letting out a guttural growl of pain. Yet, instead of crimson blood, a dark, viscous gore oozed from the wound, staining his body.

With a sudden twirl, Brone slammed his monstrous limb against Kyren’s sword. The impact reverberated through the air.

’Clang!’

The blade shattered into jagged shards. One fragment flew off, embedding itself into a nearby tree with a sharp, echoing crack.

"Sh*t!" Brone spat, his breath ragged, the dark wound on his shoulder pulsing ominously.

He wrenched a piece of the silver splinter from his body and flung it aside. Black liquid poured rapidly from the gash, staining the snow beneath him.

Kyren’s chest swelled with a fleeting sense of triumph at his successful strike, but it vanished almost instantly. His eyes widened as Brone’s torn flesh began knitting itself back together, closing as if no wound had been inflicted.

The Bargesian leader wiped the remaining gore from his attire, revealing unblemished skin where the slash had been.

"Heaven’s lord..." Kyren breathed, disbelief clawing into his voice.

"He’s using a dark spell! You can’t subdue him with brute force!" Anna cried from the sidelines urgently. "You need combat magic!"

Kyren hissed a curse between clenched teeth. Combat magic—of all things. He hadn’t yet learned the discipline from Kiev since the Mederian prince had departed for Tarnova.

Before he could think further, Brone’s monstrous limb slashed toward him again, cutting through the snow-laden air with a violent hiss.

Kyren twisted aside just in time. The talons scraped across his armour with a screech, carving deep claw marks into the metal. He felt the impact jolt through his body, but thankfully, the skin beneath remained untouched.

Anna’s warning wasn’t purely out of fear. He himself could sense the strong impact of the assault.

The princess shouted in alarm.

"I’m fine, Anna! I’m not injured!" Kyren called out, attempting to reassure her.

Brone caught the flicker of hesitation in Kyren’s eyes—and then sharply looked at Anna. Realisation dawned across his face, quickly twisting into glee.

"You can’t use magic, can you?" he taunted.

Kyren’s silence conveyed all he needed to know. Brone’s eyes shone brightly. The grand duke’s annoyance quickly ignited at his expression.

"Whether I can or cannot is none of your concern!" he snapped.

The grand duke’s hand trembled as he caught his breath. Fatigue overwhelmed him, a result of channelling large amounts of mana to heal the tribesmen. It seeped into his limbs like cold water, gradually making him numb and sluggish from within.

Brone laughed—a loud, triumphant roar.

"Hah! Obviously, you don’t! Looks like I’m winning this battle already!"

He cast a smug glance at Derek.

"Pour every shred of your power into me. The grand duke’s about to learn exactly how small he is. I’ll pound him into the snow, drag him to his knights, and make him watch as I cut them down one after another."

Derek hesitated. "You... want all of it?"

Brone shouted, "Don’t be a miser! These pests will keep hunting us if we don’t crush every last one of them!"

"No!" Anna thrashed, her arm painfully clamped in Derek’s grip. "You won’t get away with this!"

The mage’s jaw tightened. Her constant struggling—her kicks, her twisting, her refusal to stay still—was grinding away what little patience he had left. Despite her desperation, Ana couldn’t even make him shift a step.

"Enough!" Derek snapped, then turned to the Bargesian leader. "Wrap it up, Brone! I’ll feed you!"

Still holding the princess with one hand, the mage lifted the other. His fingers unfurled, palm open to the air.

Shadows bled from his skin, inky wisps curling like smoke rising from a dying ember. The tendrils coiled upward before snaking toward Brone, drawn to him as if pulled by an unseen tether.

The moment the magic touched him, Brone convulsed. Dark energy surged through his veins, swelling his already monstrous limb. Muscles bulged grotesquely beneath his skin, cracks of crimson light racing through the surface like molten fissures.

His breath hitched into a low growl... then the change was done; it was violent, immediate and terrifyingly fast.

Kyren steadied himself, prepared to leap. The transformation didn’t waver him—if anything, it strengthened his resolve to avenge what they had done to Anna, his mansion, and his people.

But before he could spring, a thunder of hooves burst from the treeline.

Adam’s warhorse raced through the forest path, the admiral perched forward in the saddle, eyes blazing the moment he saw the chaos.

It took a while for him to reach them because all signs had disappeared due to the earlier trail-hiding spell.

Brone sneered, lips curving up like he’d been handed a toy.

"Well... well... one of the pesky knights is here, it seems," he drawled. "Let’s get rid of this insect first as a quick warm-up, shall we? Then," his gaze slid back to Kyren, "I can sort your bones and teeth afterwards."

With a flick of his monstrous limb, the Bargesian leader hurled a blazing bolt straight at the charging admiral.

Terror flashed in Anna’s emerald eyes as Kyren reacted immediately.

"Adam!" he shouted.

The grand duke surged forward right before the strike was unleashed, slamming his broken blade into the incoming bolt.

The impact detonated, sending heat and sparks exploding outward. The bolt ricocheted off the steel and...

’Dumm!’

It slammed into a towering ash tree behind Adam’s horse.

The admiral swung off his horse the moment he was clear of the attack, his boots thudding onto the ground. His gaze darted to Kyren, sprawled from the force of the deflection. He rushed over, dropping to a crouch and gripping the grand duke’s shoulders.

"Your Highness! Are you all right?"

Kyren opened his mouth, but a deep, splintering groan interrupted him from behind.

The section of the ash tree trunk hit by the blast trembled violently, accompanied by the burning smell of wood. Smoke billowed out, but the most alarming sight was the trunk starting to move, tumbling down.

Kyren’s eyes snapped upward.

"Look out!"

He shoved the admiral with all the strength he had left. Adam toppled aside just as the ash tree gave way. But Kyren—still lying on the ground—had no chance to move.

’Dumm!’

The ash tree slammed into the ground with a bone-rattling thud.