All Chapters of THE LYCAN KING AND HIS HUNTED LUNA: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Flashback continuesAgnes PovThe magic spell I had casted was too overwhelming as I was weak already, all they guards presently were under my spelI apart from one, the king guards who had golden breasted plates, he lunged forward with deadly speed as I turned around I saw him just centimeters away from me.With resounding defiance I looked towards him with domineering look “de via mea!!!” I casted a casted which created a violent wave of telekinesis, ripping and tearing apart everything towards his part, but surprisingly to me, he just stood there unaffected by my magic, doubtfull thoughts became to fillfill my mind, why is he so strong and unmoved by my spells? What kind of beast is he? In that moment I hesitated and uncertainty filled my mind making me lose concentration for a split secondThe guard used the deviation to his advantage as he drove his sword towards my lower abdomen “ahh…” I gasped for air as I felt life slowly escaping from my grasp and there was nothing I could do

The battle had reached its climax, and as I fought alongside the villagers and Baba Tunde, I couldn’t help but notice the absence of Vaemond and Freya. My heart grew heavy with worry for them, knowing that they might be facing their own challenges elsewhere. Yet, there was no time to dwell on their absence as Constantine’s forces pressed on with renewed aggression. The ground beneath me was stained with the blood of fallen soldiers, both friend and foe. I fought with every ounce of strength in me, my mind consumed by the promise I made to protect Agnes and my daughter at all costs. As the battle raged on, the prophesized clash of the sun and moon illuminated the sky, casting an eerie glow over the battlefield. It felt like a sign, a reminder that this was no ordinary conflict, but a battle of cosmic proportions. I pushed back the enemy forces, my claws and teeth tearing through their defenses. I could feel the darkness within me, the presence of Thannanis still lingering, pushing me

As Freya gathered all her strength, she channeled her magic into the most powerful spell she knew. Her eyes blazed with determination as she aimed it at Constantine, hoping to finally put an end to the wicked witch’s reign. But to her dismay, the spell seemed to have no effect on Constantine at all. Constantine merely raised an eyebrow, as if mildly amused by Freya’s futile attempt. With a flick of her wrist, she countered the spell effortlessly, sending Freya flying across the room. Freya crashed into the hard stone wall, gasping for breath as pain coursed through her body. “You truly believe you can defeat me with such feeble magic?” Constantine taunted, her voice laced with disdain. “You are no match for my power, little witch.” Freya gritted her teeth, refusing to back down despite the pain and humiliation. She pushed herself up from the floor, her eyes never leaving Constantine’s form. The room was filled with an oppressive silence as the two witches locked eyes, their magical

The room stood silent, its walls bearing the heavy weight of sorrow that seemed to permeate every corner. Freya’s steps were hesitant as she entered, her heart pounding with a mixture of grief and anger. The remnants of what was once Vaemond lay before her, a painful reminder of the tragedy that had unfolded. Tears welled in her eyes as she slowly approached the vessel that held the ashes, a vessel that now felt like a vessel of memories, both beautiful and painful.With trembling hands, Freya carefully gathered the ashes, her fingers tracing the outline of the vessel’s rim. The ashes were cold, lifeless, a stark contrast to the fire and vitality that had once been Vaemond. She took a deep, shuddering breath, struggling to control the waves of emotion that threatened to overwhelm her.As the ashes settled in her grasp, Freya’s tears fell freely. Each droplet seemed to hold a piece of her pain, a piece of her heartache. She tried to capture the essence of the man she had loved, the man

General Alistair, his armor battered and his face etched with exhaustion, walked alongside General Callahan as they made their way back to the city. The battle had been fierce, and the retreat of Constantine’s forces had left them disheartened.“By the gods, Alistair, that was a close one,” Callahan muttered, his voice still carrying a hint of tension.Alistair nodded, his gaze fixed on the path ahead. “Indeed, Callahan. Our battle was hard-fought.”They walked in silence for a moment, the weight of the battle settling around them.“You know,” Callahan began, his tone thoughtful, “this battle has made me think about what truly matters.”Alistair cast a sideways glance at him, intrigued. “And what is that?”Callahan’s lips curved into a small, wistful smile. “My family, Alistair. I’ve been away from them for so long, caught up in these conflicts. I’ve missed out on watching my children grow, and I can’t bear the thought of continuing down this path.”Alistair’s expression softened as h