The Flower Is Finished

We finally arrived at the vampire clan.

They looked at us one by one, their cold crimson eyes observing every move. The clan chiefs of both the vampires and werewolves stepped forward to greet us.

"Welcome, Lord Arven and…" he paused, glancing in my direction.

"Xanders," Arven said firmly, even though shards of ice were still lodged in his chest.

"Please, bring them inside and treat their wounds," the vampire chief ordered his subordinates to assist us immediately.

The freezing weather was unbearable. Some of the soldiers had already begun showing severe signs of cold — even hypothermia.

"Report… Lord Arven, several soldiers are suffering from hypothermia!"

For a moment, we exchanged tense glances. We were gathered around the campfire inside one of the clan houses, trying to stay warm.

"What?"

"Let's go — now!" Arven barked, rushing away from the fire. Panic filled the room; several soldiers were collapsing, their bodies too cold to move.

"Xanders, immediately perform CPR on those who can barely breathe!"

I obeyed without hesitation, pressing on their chests as ordered.

Meanwhile, the vampires joined in, helping with resuscitation and changing the soldiers into warmer clothes.

It took almost an hour to stabilize everyone, but several men still died — their bodies unable to endure the freezing temperature.

"One by one, our soldiers have fallen," Arven said through labored breaths, looking over the frozen faces of his men.

"Bury them with honor."

Then he left the base camp, while others began to carry the fallen soldiers away, one by one.

---

The Council Meeting

After resting for several hours and regaining some warmth, the four of us gathered at a round table —

the vampire chief, the werewolf leader, Arven, and me, Xanders.

"We should have reported to the castle months ago," said the vampire elder, bowing his head. "We discovered a structure we thought was just a glacier, but it turned out to be something else. We failed our duty."

The werewolf chief nodded. "We know our mistake is grave, but we assure you — there are no spies among us now."

Arven said nothing. His breathing was heavy, his silence more terrifying than anger.

"I don't know what to say," he muttered, turning his gaze toward the swirling snow outside. "But you all know what the King wants."

"Have you reported to the royal court?" asked the vampire elder — William.

"Yes," Arven replied. "I've sent word. The northern front is in chaos."

"Why did you attack the northern border so suddenly?" William asked, confusion in his eyes.

"We sent messages to your clans, but received no response. We had no choice — disaster was already upon us."

William nodded slowly. "It's fortunate I heard the rumors and came here myself. You were right — our combined strength still couldn't match the demons." He looked down at his wrinkled hands, trembling slightly.

"Do you think all this happened by chance?" asked Jack, the werewolf chief, who had been silent until now.

Then Arven suddenly pointed at me.

"He… is the true demon."

The air froze. Both William and Jack turned toward me, shocked.

"What do you mean?" Jack asked, his eyes narrowing.

"He's the Child of Fire — awakened."

Clang!

"So you're a demon disguised as one of us?" William hissed, drawing his sword and pointing it at my throat.

"I… I can control it," I stammered.

"Then why bring him here?" Jack snapped at Arven. "You've brought a monster into our den!"

Arven turned toward the window, his expression unreadable. "You'll understand one day. But right now, we have to focus on defeating the demons."

He stood and left the room. I tried to move, but William's glare burned into me.

"Once a demon, always a demon."

He spat those words before turning away. Jack lingered, his gaze piercing through me — powerful, predatory.

"Live peacefully," he said at last. "Don't destroy what doesn't harm you."

Then he left, following William.

I was left alone, frozen in thought, his words echoing in my mind.

"Did I ask to be born like this?"

My hands trembled as emotion surged through me. I didn't know what to do — all I ever wanted was a normal life, a peaceful one, with Grandmother Wilona who loved me unconditionally.

---

Flashback

Wars never ceased.

The North attacked the South, the West clashed with the East — every region had its own conflict, forcing clans to surrender their lands to the rule of a single human-led city.

To preserve peace, every clan was required to send representatives to the capital — humans, vampires, werewolves, elves, and witches, all bound by fragile treaties.

But peace never lasted. The vampires and werewolves faced extinction, yet instead of fighting each other, they allied — turning their blades against the witches and elves. Eventually, both were defeated and joined the elves to wage war on the sorcerers, the highest of all races.

The sorcerers, arrogant in their power, looked down upon the others. Humanity eventually rose, claiming that even sorcery could be overcome by human strength.

Enraged, the sorcerers retaliated — spreading curses and diseases across human lands.

The humans struck back, leading to centuries of bloodshed.

At last, the humans triumphed, forcing the surviving clans into uneasy unity.

But peace was only an illusion. Some clans refused to bow to "filthy humans." For thousands of years, that fragile harmony endured — until now.

Whispers of rebellion began once more, fueled by greed and resentment.

And the demons — silent observers of chaos — began to stir.

They whispered into the hearts of the greedy, feeding anger between clans.

A hundred years ago, their whispers became war.

The demons united against humankind, and every clan was brought to the edge of extinction.

The drought that followed scorched the earth. No rain fell for years. The gods themselves descended in fury, cursing the demons to perish forever — yet they could not truly die.

Only a power greater than the gods could seal them away.

Plagues spread through air and water; death became the price of survival.

Even trees no longer bore fruit.

For a year, the war raged on — until the human king, desperate to save his people, surrendered his throne to the demons.

His council saw this as betrayal. The king was executed — beheaded by his own court.

He had only wanted to protect his people, but his people never understood.

His younger brother, Gustav, took the throne. Under his rule, the kingdom prospered — but whispers began to surface.

Some said Gustav had conspired to kill his brother, that he performed forbidden rituals to summon the demons.

As years passed, Gustav fell into madness. The struggle for power returned to the palace.

He ruled for twenty years before his bloodline turned upon itself — each heir fighting for the throne, only to withdraw in fear once they learned the truth.

---

Would you like me to continue translating this flashback section (since it stops right before the next era of conflict)?

Or would you prefer that I revise and polish the English version into a smoother, novel-style chapter (ready for inclusion in your English manuscript)?