Chapter 261: Oh- Oh... No...
Leon’s jaw clenched when he saw his sister raise her sword in his direction. All at once, the battlefield fell eerily silent. The clash of steel ceased, footsteps paused mid-stride, and every warrior, lion, leopard, and wolf alike—froze in place.
On Soren’s side, snow leopard and wolf fighters exhaled in unison, visibly relieved. They recognised the banner at Ronan’s back—soldiers they’d not expected. With new reinforcements, their dwindling numbers were no longer hopeless. The tide of war had turned in a heartbeat.
On Leon’s side, uncertainty flooded through his ranks. They clustered, whispering among themselves, glancing at the reinforcements and, most importantly, at his sister, Catalina of the Aurum Sword. She stood with unwavering poise, sword pointed in testament, her every movement radiating the quiet assurance of a warrior queen.
They knew her reputation. In teenage duels, she had easily outmatched her tutors. During the last royal tournament, she disarmed eight knights in as many minutes. Beneath that white-and-gold gown, she wore light armour—renowned craftsmanship that glinted as she shifted weight. Her long golden hair whipped against her robes, and her eyes, cerulean and stern, fixed on Leon.
Leon’s throat went dry. Whenever Catalina had confronted him before their father’s death, in court, at a public ceremony, even in whispered council meetings, he had found himself hurt, but due to his pride, he dismissed every concern of hers.
Now, in a war he had instigated against the wolf clan, she had deliberately come to turn the tide. And not just that: she had called him a disgrace because of the broken treaty, the treaty between all four clans, the very agreement every ruler swore to protect. He felt incredibly disgusted with his behaviour.
A heavy wind rattled the tents at the battlefield’s edge. Leon heard murmurs from his own lines. "Princess Catalina.""The sword.""She’s here."
He finally found his voice, tight and brittle. "Catalina..." he said, the name a question, a complaint, a memory.
She didn’t move her blade. "Retreat right now, and the Alpha will forgive your transgression" Her voice carried across the field, clear and unwavering. "This is the end. You cannot defy your ancestors’ treaty and expect no challenge."