<h4>Chapter 682: The Great War (II)</h4>


    <strong><i>[Third Person].</i></strong>


    There was no hesitation or restraint in Draven anymore. And that made him more dangerous than before.


    Just then, Este’s gaze shifted briefly just enough to catch another detail.


    Draven moved again, cutting through enemies. Every so often, his attention flickered elsewhere, toward a specific direction. Toward Meredith.


    Even in the chaos, he was watching and protecting her.


    Este’s lips curved faintly. "Still distracted," she said under her breath.


    But her attention didn’t linger because something else had begun to unravel.


    Across another section of the battlefield, a familiar figure appeared once more. Meredith, or what seemed to be her.


    She moved differently this time—closer to the heart of the conflict, drawing attention far more deliberately.


    Vampires noticed immediately, their focus snapping toward her with renewed urgency.


    "The Queen!" one shouted.


    They surged toward her in numbers, but she didn’t retreat.


    She advanced just enough to keep them engaged, pulling them further into a cluster where the fighting was thickest.


    The pressure tightened around her, enemies closing in from all sides, their movements coordinated, aggressive.


    For a moment, it worked. They werepletely focused on her.


    But then, one of the vampires hesitated mid-step, his gaze narrowing slightly as he identally noticed the other Meredith.


    "Something’s wrong," he muttered.


    Just then, the illusion flickered just slightly. But it was enough for the recognition hit.


    "It’s not her!" one of them shouted.


    The shift in the air was immediate.


    The surrounding vampires lunged at once, their attacks no longer cautious but decisive, aimed to kill without hesitation.


    Xamira didn’t run. She stood her ground.


    Her form shifted in an instant into something else, something unstable, flickering between shapes as she moved.


    "What the fuck..." Este drawled as her surprised gaze watched the scene unfolding several steps away. "...is that?"


    Just then, a de found its way into Xamira’s side, but she twisted through the pain, her hand snapping forward to grab one of them and drag him into the path of another’s strike.


    They fell together. But more came.


    Her breathing grew heavier, her movements sharper but slower now. Blood stained her clothes, her strength beginning to wane, but her eyes remained focused.


    She wasn’t even trying to survive. She was finishing something.


    With thest of her strength, her form shifted again into Este.


    Her voice rang out, clear andmanding. "Fall back to the northern ridge—now!"


    The vampires closest to her didn’t question it.


    They moved and ran straight into the waiting jaws of another hidden unit—wolves bursting from concealment, tearing into them before they could even regroup.


    The screams echoed briefly before being swallowed by the chaos.


    Behind them, the false Este staggered. Her form broke and returned to the original Xamira.


    She dropped to one knee, her breath uneven, her strength finally giving way.


    Slow, measured footsteps approached. Then, a shadow fell over her.


    "Well... well..." a voice said softly, almost impressed. "You were useful."


    Xamira looked up to see the real Este standing before her.


    "You nearly made it convincing," Este added, her gaze cool.


    Xamira let out a faint breath that might have been augh. "Good... enough."


    Este tilted her head slightly. "For a shapeshifter, perhaps." There was no anger in her tone.


    Just then, the clean, final strike came swiftly, and Xamira’s body stilled.


    —


    Not far from there, Meredith faltered for a brief moment as a sudden emptiness washed over her. A presence that had been moving across the battlefield—subtle, shifting, and alive—was gone.


    Her eyes sharpened instantly. "...Xamira."


    The moment Xamira’s presence vanished from the battlefield, something in her shifted.


    The restraint she had held onto since the war began loosened, then disappeared entirely.


    She stepped forward.


    This time, she did not remain within the protection of the inner lines; she moved beyond them.


    Her silver hair caught the light as she advanced, her figure now fully exposed to the battlefield.


    There was no longer any attempt to conceal her presence, no illusion to divide attention. If Este wanted her, then she would be seen.


    Almost immediately, the shift in attention was unmistakable.


    "There!" a voice rang out from the opposing side. "The real one!"


    The human soldiers reacted first. Rifles lifted, and a line of gunfire followed. The sound tore across the battlefield once more, sharp and relentless, but this time Meredith did not move to evade it.


    She did not step back or attempt to outrun what was already too fast to outrun. Instead, she stilled.


    The energy within her gathered, controlled, exactly as she had been taught. And just before the bullets could reach her, they stopped.


    The air in front of her shimmered faintly, bending under an invisible force as the projectiles struck against something unseen. The impact did not break through. It held.


    Around her, several nearby wolves who would have been caught in the same barrage found themselves shielded as well, the invisible barrier extending just enough to protect them.


    For a brief moment, the battlefield paused around her. Then Meredith moved.


    She lowered her hand slightly, and the energy shifted with it. The barrier dissolved, released—and in the same motion, she stepped forward into the enemy line.


    A vampire lunged at her, and her sword met him first. The strike was clean, precise, and final.


    Another came from the side, faster, aiming for her unguarded nk, but Meredith turned, her free hand already glowing faintly with gathered power.


    She struck with force. The impact sent the vampire crashing backwards into two others, all three copsing in a tangle of broken motion. But she didn’t stop there.


    Her movements flowed seamlessly between de and power. One moment, she fought as any trained warrior would; the next, her hand lifted, and something unseen swept outward, clearing space around her in a sudden, crushing wave.


    But the battlefield was unforgiving. More human soldiers adjusted their aim. This time, the shots came from multiple angles.


    Meredith felt the direction and the intent before she saw it, and her focus tightened again.


    The shield formed faster now, stronger, expanding outward to cover not just herself, but the wolves pushing forward beside her.


    Bullets struck against it in rapid session, their force absorbed, redirected, and stopped.


    She held it long enough, then released it again as she advanced.


    From a distance, it became clear that she was changing the battlefield, and that made her even more dangerous.


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