Chapter 40: The Prince and the Princess

Pain tore through Daemon’s body.

The moment he forced the Nameless Bloodline open, every vein and muscle screamed in protest. It felt like molten metal was flowing under his skin.

The System’s warning rang repeatedly inside his head.

[Warning: Bloodline usage is causing severe internal damage.]

[Host is strongly advised to cease all skill activation.]

But stopping was impossible.

Adam was still standing.

Despite the deep cuts across his body and the fact that half of his right arm was gone, the prince showed no intention of backing down.

Blood poured freely from his wounds, yet his presence remained overwhelming. Pure physical strength radiated from him like a crushing weight.

Adam looked at Daemon and let out a short breath.

"I am impressed. You are only a early stage, yet you still managed to force me this far." His eyes narrowed.

"But I am growing bored. It is still a mystery how you look exactly like me... your face, your features. Though after you die, none of that will matter."

Daemon could barely raise Void Reaper anymore. His breathing was ragged. Every movement sent fresh waves of pain through his damaged muscles. He had already reached his limit.

Adam suddenly stepped forward and drove a heavy fist into Daemon’s stomach.

The impact lifted him off the ground.

He was thrown backward and crashed through a pile of broken trees. The air left his lungs in a violent burst.

Blood sprayed from his mouth as he coughed hard against the dirt.

I have to warn Roxanna...

He tried to open a communication link through the System, but before he could form the thought, Adam was already above him.

A strong hand clamped around his throat and lifted him into the air.

Adam hovered slightly above the ground, holding Daemon by the neck as if he weighed nothing.

"No early stage awakeners should possess this kind of strength," Adam said quietly. "It is a shame you have to die.

Before that, tell me your name. Consider it an honor. You earned it."

Daemon’s face was covered in blood. He forced his swollen lips to move and spat blood onto Adam’s cheek.

"Fuck you."

Adam’s eyes widened slightly. Then he smiled.

"Even at the edge of death, you still impress me."

His fingers tightened around Daemon’s throat.

Daemon’s vision began to darken. The System’s emergency warnings flashed rapidly.

Then—

Thwip!

An arrow struck the ground less than a meter away from them, embedding itself deep into the earth with a sharp sound.

Adam’s head snapped toward the direction the arrow had come from.

A woman stood on a thick tree branch several meters away. She wore light but finely crafted armor that mixed elegance with practicality.

A long bow rested in her hands, and a quiver of arrows hung across her back.

Her long white hair flowed freely in the wind. Her features were refined and strikingly beautiful, carrying the unmistakable air of royalty.

Her voice was clear and cold.

"Stop this, Prince Adam. Or you will face the consequences."

Adam’s grip on Daemon loosened slightly.

"You are destroying the Mother Forest," the woman continued.

"More importantly, this land falls under the territory of the Elorian Kingdom."

Adam released Daemon. His body collapsed onto the ground in a heap, barely conscious.

Adam turned fully toward the newcomer and smiled.

"Princess Zephyra.

It is good to see you again. You look exactly as beautiful as the rumors that spread across every continent."

Zephyra did not return the smile.

"Keep your false compliments.

Return to the Asteria Continent. And that man..." She pointed at Daemon’s broken form. "I want him alive."

Adam’s expression darkened.

"That is not possible. He is my prey. I came here to hunt... and there is still someone else in this forest who caught my interest."

His thoughts briefly flickered to the white-haired woman who had escaped earlier—Sana.

Zephyra’s voice grew sharper.

"No. That is not possible.

Queen Morwenna of Elorian wants that man alive. If you continue to interfere, you will die here.

Do not forget—this entire forest answers to my Queen. She can do whatever she wishes within these borders."

For the first time, restraint appeared on Adam’s face.

He looked down at Daemon’s collapsed body and spoke in a low voice.

"This is not over. One day I will kill you. Wait for that day."

A cold smirk crossed his lips.

"Today, you were lucky."

In the next instant, Adam vanished, leaving only disturbed air behind.

Silence returned to the forest.

Zephyra slowly lowered her bow. Only then did she release the breath she had been holding.

Outwardly she appeared calm, but inside she remained tense. Her mother, Queen Morwenna, had warned her carefully about Prince Adam.

He might not be the most skilled warrior in every aspect, but his raw physical strength placed him among the strongest of the current generation.

Provoking him further would have been dangerous.

Zephyra dropped lightly to the ground and crouched beside Daemon.

She lifted his head, parted his lips, and carefully poured a glowing blue potion into his mouth. The liquid was an elven recovery elixir, rare even within the Elorian Continent.

Almost immediately, the bleeding stopped. Torn flesh began to close. The worst of his external injuries faded, though he remained unconscious.

Only now, with the blood cleaned away, did Zephyra clearly see his face.

Her eyes widened.

He looked exactly like Prince Adam.

The resemblance was so perfect it was almost disturbing. Suddenly her mother’s unusual orders made sense.

The Queen had insisted that Zephyra come alone to retrieve this man. No soldiers. No attendants. Only her.

Now she understood why.

Zephyra carefully lifted Daemon onto her shoulder.

With a soft pulse of wind-element energy, her body rose into the air.

She turned toward the heart of the forest and flew away, carrying the unconscious man with her.

Pain was the first thing Daemon felt when consciousness returned.

It was duller than before, but still present in every muscle.

He tried to move and found that his body responded only sluggishly. Slowly, his vision cleared.

He was lying on a bed far softer than anything he had used in a long time.

The room around him was spacious and elegant. Stone walls were lined with carved wooden panels.

Heavy curtains framed tall windows. Every piece of furniture—chairs, tables, even the lamp stands—looked as if it belonged to a medieval royal palace.

There was no sign of modern technology.

Daemon’s mind was still hazy.

Where... am I?

The door to the room opened.

Soft footsteps approached the bed.

Daemon turned his head.

The moment he saw the person standing there, his body moved on instinct.

Ignoring the pain, he forced himself upright and reached out, pulling the figure into a tight embrace.

His voice came out rough and disbelieving.

"You..."