<b>Chapter 135 </b>
Marsen didn’t move, didn’t blink – just sat slouched against the jagged wall, those blood–red eyes locking onto Francesco with something
between hatred and defiance.
His skin looked wrong, stretched too tight over bone, veins dark as ink crawling up his neck.
The cave’s air thickened, pressing in on them. Even the torches seemed to dim, their light bending away from him.
Francesco stepped forward, his ws extending in a low, deliberate threat. The warriors behind him growled under their breath, wolves ready to spring, but they didn’t- couldn’t cross that invisible line of corruption bleeding <i>from </i>the book in Marsen’s hands.
It wasn’t just a book.
It was breathing.
–
The cover, ck as obsidian, shivered with every pulse of the red symbols etched into it.
Francesco recognized those markings – twisted glyphs meant to bind life to death, power to decay. Luca’s legacy.
His chest rumbled with a deep growl. “Where did you get that?”
Marsen’s lips curved, slow and mocking, though his voice when <b>it </b>came was rough, like gravel dragged across stone.
“Your kind never burned it. Never destroyed what should have been buried with him.”
Francesco’s eyes narrowed.
“You think you can control that? It’ll eat you alive before it gives you an ounce of its power.”
Marsen’sugh was sharp and dry, a sound that didn’t belong to a man
or a wolf.
“Maybe. But if I can bleed your pack before it takes me… I’ll consider that a victory.”
The warriors shifted uneasily. Francesco felt Marlow’s presence at his side, tense and waiting for the signal.
But the charm against his chest – Eine’s charm – pulsed with a faint heat, as though warning him. Whatever Marsen had started here, the book had already sunk its ws into him. If they attacked recklessly, they might unleash something far worse.
Francesco kept his voice low, lethal.
“You’re not walking out of here with that.”
Marsen’s gaze flicked to the shadows behind him, and only then did Francesco sense it – a stir of movement deeper in the cave. The air carried a sour<b>, </b>metallic tang that didn’t belong to any living thing.
Marlow caught it too. “We’re not alone,” he muttered.
The faint scrape of ws against stone echoed from the darkness<b>, </b>slow and deliberate.
Francesco took a step closer to Marsen, his Lycan form flexing with restrained violence.
“Who did you bring here<b>?</b><b>” </b>
Marsen’s smile widened
-X
and this time, the torchlight caught something moving just <b>beyond </b><b>the </b><b>ckened </b><b>circle </b><b>on </b><b>the </b><b>ground </b>
<b>1/4 </b>
11:14 <b>Sun</b><b>, </b><b>10 </b><b>Aug </b>
Something that was answering his call.
From the ckened circle, the air began to twist.
Not just wind — the darkness itself bent, spiraling inward as if being sucked into a vold. The walls of the cave shuddered, dust raining from the jagged ceiling.
Then came the sound.
Low at first, almost like a growl… butyered with whispers, dozens of voices speaking in anguage that scraped against the mind.
The circle red red at its core, then ck at the edges – and something began to pull itself free.
Long, skeletal ws slid out first, cker than shadow and dripping with a tar–like ooze. Then a head emerged–not wolf, not human, <b>but </b>something that had once been both, now warped into a predator with no eyes, only a mouth filled with jagged, glistening teeth.
The stench hit them like a wall- rotting flesh and burning metal.
One of the younger warriors flinched back, hand covering his nose. “What… is that?”
Francesco’s lips peeled back in a snarl.
“Not what. A revenant.”
Marlow’s voice went grim. “Those were wiped out centuries ago.”
“They were,” Francesco growled, his ws flexing, “until Luca found a way to bind them.”
The creature stepped free of the circle, its movements jerky and unnatural, its ws dragging deep gouges into the stone floor. The whispers grew louder, almost frenzied, as though it was hungry – and Francesco knew it was. Revenants didn’t just kill. They consumed.
“Marsen!” Francesco’s voice cracked like thunder. “You have no idea what you’ve unleashed-”
“I know exactly,” Marsen spat, pushing himself to his feet. His legs shook, but the book’s glow seemed to feed into him, keeping him upright. “This is your reckoning, Lycan.”
The revenant’s head snapped toward Francesco, its jaw splitting unnaturally wide as a shriek ripped through the chamber.
Francesco didn’t wait.
He shifted fully, bones snapping, muscles surging, fur bursting along his skin until his colossal Lycan form towered over everyone. The warriors followed in a heartbeat, their wolves bristling.
“Circle formation!” Marlow barked.
but the thing moved faster than expected. With a blur of motion, They closed ranks, surrounding <i>both </i>Marsen and the revenant ws sweeping <i>out</i>. One warrior was thrown against the wall, blood spraying from a deep gash across his chest.
–
<i>‘</i>d,
Francesco roared, the <i>sound </i>shaking the very walls, and mmed into the revenant. The impact rattled through his bones<b>, </b>and cold- unnatural cold – sank into his muscles where they touched. He bit down on its shoulder, tearing away a chunk of ckened <b>flesh</b><b>, </b><b>but </b><b>the </b>
wound closed instantly, sealing with a hiss./
Magic<b>–</b>fueled.
Not kible by brute strength alone.
<b>11:14 </b><b>Sun</b>, <b>10 </b><b>Aug </b>
Behind him, Marlow and two others kept Marsen pinned against the wall, but the book fought them it, throwing them back. Marsen staggered forward,ughing through bloodied lips.
a shockwave of <b>force </b>sting out <b>from </b>
“You can’t stop it,” he choked. “It’s bound to me now-
Francesco’s eyes burned gold.
“Then I’ll rip you apart first.”
The revenant screeched again, its ws slicing toward Francesco shattering twist, tore the limb clean off.
but he caught its wrist mid–swing, muscles straining, and with <b>a </b>bone-
It didn’t scream in pain.
Itughed in Luca’s voice.
And that was when Francesco realized this was no ordinary summoning.
Luca wasn’t gone.
He was inside the book.
It didn’t scream in pain.
Itughed – in Luca’s voice.
Francesco <i>froze </i>mid–grip, golden eyes narrowing. That sound… it wasn’ting from the creature at all.
It wasing from behind it.
From the book in Marsen’s hands<i>. </i>
1
The glow around the tome pulsed, shadows coiling tighter, and then a voice – deep, cold, and unmistakably Luca’s – spilled <i>into </i>the air.
<i>“</i><i>Ah</i>… Francesco.” The tone was mocking, dripping with venom, “Still so eager to y the hero.”
Marlow’s head snapped toward him, eyes wide. “<i>My </i>king… that voice-”
Francesco’s gaze locked on the book.
“Luca wasn’t gone,” he growled, realization hitting like a de to the gut. “He’s inside the book.”
Marsen grinned, his fingers tightening on the tome as though it were a lifeline. “Not just inside. Bound. Preserved. Every drop of <i>his </i>knowledge, his power… his hatred… all here. And now, all mine tomand.”
The <i>book’s </i>pages fluttered wildly without wind, the voice of Luca growing sharper, crueler.
“Kill him, Marsen. Tear the Lycan apart.”
<i>The </i>revenant lurched forward as if yanked by <i>invisible </i>strings, moving with renewed speed, its ws slicing the air <i>just </i><i>inches </i><b><i>from </i></b>Francesco’s throat.