Chapter 617 Rescue
Alina felt herself falling.
The massive worm’s mouth was descending, its teeth spinning, its shadow swallowing the stone where the children huddled. She had run toward it, her arms outstretched, her body moving before her mind could catch up. And then she felt nothing.
Not pain. Not fear. Not the grinding of teeth or the heat of the monster’s breath.
Nothing.
She opened her eyes.
Above her, pressing against the worm’s massive body, was darkness. Thick, writhing shadows pushed against the monster’s skin, holding it back, keeping its mouth from closing around the children.
The worm thrashed. Its teeth spun but the shadows held.
Alina turned.
Behind her, the children were cheering.
"PRINCIPAL! PRINCIPAL! PRINCIPAL!" they chanted, their voices rising in a chorus of hope and relief.
She looked toward the principal’s chair.
He was standing. Dante was standing!
His body was trembling. His hands were raised, his fingers curled like claws, his face twisted with effort. Dark tendrils of shadow poured from his body, stretching across the playground, wrapping around the worm monsters, holding them in place.
But he was struggling.
His legs were shaking. His arms were trembling. Sweat poured down his face. His eyes, those dark, powerful crimson eyes that had always seemed so untouchable, were filled with pain.
The spell Miss Clara had cast on him was dark magic. It had frozen him completely, had turned his body to stone, had trapped him in a prison of his own flesh. He had been aware the whole time. Aware of the children screaming, aware of Alina fighting, aware of the monsters rising from the earth.
Aware of his own uselessness.
He had pushed against the spell with everything he had. Every ounce of power, every shred of will, every desperate prayer to gods he had stopped believing in long ago.
And finally, finally, the spell had cracked under the weight of his efforts.
Now he stood on shaking legs, his shadows pouring from him like blood from a wound, holding back monsters that should have been destroyed already. He wasn’t at full power. He wasn’t even at half power. The spell had drained him, weakened him, left him vulnerable in a way he hadn’t been in decades.
But he held.
The worms thrashed against his shadows. The largest one, the one that had almost swallowed the children, twisted and turned, trying to break free. Dante’s shadows wrapped tighter, squeezing, crushing.
But he was fading.
His knees buckled. His hands dropped. His shadows flickered.
"No," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Not yet. Not yet."
He pushed again.
His shadows surged.
The largest worm screamed, if it could scream, and began to crumble. Its body cracked, split, fell apart. Dust and soil filled the air, choking the playground in a thick cloud.
But Dante was crumbling too.
His body swayed. His vision blurred. His shadows retreated, shrinking back toward him like wounded animals retreating into their den.
The other worms were still there.
Three of them. Massive. Hungry. Their circular teeth spun with renewed fury.
Dante raised his hands again.
But his shadows were too weak. They flickered once, twice, and then faded completely.
"I’m sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking.
And then—
A horn sounded. Deep, loud, ancient. It echoed across the playground, bouncing off the trees, shaking the ground beneath their feet.
Everyone turned.
Marching down the path from the mountains were soldiers.
Hundreds of them.
They moved in perfect formation, their armor gleaming in the fading light, their spears raised, their shields locked. At the front, riding on massive serpents with scales of emerald and gold, were the snake clan warriors.
Their eyes glowed. Their scales shimmered. Their presence filled the playground with a power that made the remaining worms freeze in place.
The largest serpent, a creature so massive its body coiled around the entire path, stopped in front of the playground. Its tongue flickered out, tasting the air, its golden eyes scanning the chaos with ancient wisdom.
On its back, sitting straight and tall, was King Orin.
His silver hair flowed in the wind. His golden eyes surveyed the destruction with cold precision. His robes of emerald silk billowed around him, untouched by the dust and dirt that covered everything else.
"The Shadow Lord’s domain," King Orin said, his voice carrying across the field like thunder. "Attacked by worms."
He looked at Dante.
"How embarrassing," he said, his lips curling into a smirk.
Dante’s eyes narrowed, even as his body swayed. "Orin," he said through gritted teeth.
"Your Majesty," King Orin corrected, though his lips curved in a faint smile. "I didn’t travel all this way to be called by my first name."
"Then go back," Dante growled.
King Orin laughed. A cold, sharp sound that echoed across the playground. "And miss all the fun?" he asked.
He raised his hand.
The snake warriors charged.
They moved like water, flowing around the playground, surrounding the remaining worms with practiced precision. Their spears pierced the monsters’ skin. Their serpents coiled around the worms’ bodies, squeezing, crushing, tearing.
The children watched in awe. Some covered their eyes. Others peeked through their fingers, unable to look away.
Alina watched in relief, her chest heaving, her bleeding arm forgotten.
Dante watched in silence, his face pale, his body barely standing.
Within minutes, the worms were dead.
Their bodies lay scattered across the playground, broken and still. The ground was soaked with their dark blood. The air smelled of soil and something metallic.
The playground was quiet.
King Orin slid off his serpent and walked toward Dante. His boots crunched on the broken ground. His golden eyes studied the Shadow Lord with something that looked like amusement.
"You look terrible," King Orin said.
"I feel terrible," Dante replied.
"Good. You should."
King Orin stopped in front of him, close enough that Dante could see the flecks of gold in his eyes.
"A child came to my domain today," King Orin said. "Two children, actually. A bat and a wolf." He tilted his head. "They begged for help. They offered favors. They threatened never to forgive me if I didn’t come."
He smiled.
"I came because of the wolf. She had fire in her eyes. The kind of fire that cannot be taught or bought or faked. The kind of fire that changes things."
Dante’s expression didn’t change, but something flickered in his eyes.
"Where are they now?" he asked.
"With my guards. Being treated for their injuries." King Orin looked around the playground, at the frozen teachers, at the huddled children, at the destruction. "You’re lucky they found me. You’re lucky I was in a good mood."
"I’m not lucky," Dante said, his voice tired. "I’m exhausted."
King Orin studied him for a moment. His golden eyes softened, just slightly.
Then he reached out and placed a hand on Dante’s shoulder.
"Rest, Shadow Lord," he said, his voice quieter now. "My warriors will secure the area. Your children are safe."
Dante wanted to argue. He wanted to stand. He wanted to prove that he was still strong, still capable, still the man everyone feared.
But his body wouldn’t listen. His knees buckled.