Offered to the Triplet Alphas

[Xanthea]

Blood streamed down my broken hand, merging with the holy rain as it dripped from my fingertips, pooling around my bare feet as I stood against Yandor, the masked celestial prince, and Nikolai.

The celestial prince panted, his bated breaths cautious as he stared at me, a glowing white sword drawn to his side.noveldrama

Yandor's axe fell off his hand as he grabbed his chest and fell to his knees, vomiting blood.

"Lord Yandor!" Nikolai rushed to my grandfather, breathless. "Wh-what the hell just happened? We crossed the darkness barrier, and then you attacked Asher. But he couldn't fight back. So when... who... wait-"

His confused gaze widened with a mix of horror and incredulity when they met my indifferent scrutiny.

"Don't tell me she..." Nikolai frowned. "But that's impossible... she's just an omega, too weak to inflict this kind of damage on a celestial alpha, let alone an armed warrior like-

"Please revoke the spell, my lady," the celestial prince pleaded, trying to step closer when-

"I dare you to take another step," I said in a rugged, calm tone.

The celestial prince's grip tightened over the hilt of his sword. His figure was blurred lightly because of the misty downpour, but I could see the wariness crystal clear in his demeanor.

"Losing five years of your life for a demon? Is it worth it?" the prince asked.

Although his words were condescending, his tone seemed rather neutral.

His calculating gaze flicked past me to my mother's grave, where Asher lay on his back - barely conscious. His black overcoat spilled over the white marble, streaked with blood that trailed down the edges, seeping into the roots of the blue forget-me-nots. 'Your heart is pure and innocent, Xanthea. Don't let bad karma stain it. Promise me. No matter what happens, you will never use your mother's knowledge to hurt or kill...' Asher's words echoed in my head. 'You must keep your soul clean.'

I had promised Asher that I would always remain within the restraints of righteousness, adhere to the strict boundaries of morals and ethics Freya Plath had planted in my subconscious.

But what use is a pure heart if all I can do is stand by and watch you suffer?

What's the point of a clean soul if I can't even save you?

You think I don't understand that once the curse is lifted, once it's all over... you plan

to send me to paradise? To my home. The place I rightfully belong.

But what use is paradise to me when I want to belong in hell with you and your brothers?

Even so... I didn't want to break the promise I made to you and look where it has led

us.

Right now... even though it may seem that I had broken my promise, I was still standing within the realm of righteousness.

Gritting my teeth, I clenched my fingers into fists.

The moment Asher told me about the celestials, I knew that this meeting, above all of Asher's other reasons, was to test me. To see how I handled my mother's inheritance when seeking power wasn't a temptation, but a compulsion.

I might have failed his test, but I wouldn't change a thing about this situation.

Everything happened so fast that I still can't process the intensity of those few moments. While my mind and body reacted almost on its own, I was fully aware of my actions and their consequences.

It was as if my mind had instinctively planned everything that needed to be done to lead us to this moment.

***

(A few moments ago)

"Divine dome's progress... thirty percent..." I remember Asher mumbling through labored breaths.

Hearing his words, I naturally knew we had less than twenty minutes until the dome was completed. And once it did...

I still feel the tremor of the shudder that had crawled down my spine as the horrifying images of demons being annihilated in the divine domes surfaced from my mother's memories. No matter what countermeasures she used, no demon had ever survived her divine dome experiments.

But I stayed calm, drawing in a deep breath while all my mother's knowledge, experience and abilities manifested in their full force within me.

I had naturally inherited 5% of my mother's basic healer skills, which included things like instant diagnostic sight, blood analysis and manipulation, mana reading, aura reading and disease-cure encyclopedia.

But as a mortal with no active mana, I couldn't wield nearly 80% of my mother's advanced abilities. Spells, intricate magic circles, and a whole nother domain of mana- centric skills were beyond my reach.

However, within black magic, there was a special category of spells and mana symbols designed for the mana-less, granting me access to 15% of advanced skills. But they came at a heavy price.

These spells drew power from the caster's or the sacrifice's life force, shortening their lifespan, the duration ranging from mere seconds to several years - the stronger the spell, the greater the cost.

This was why, despite an eternal life, even immortals preferred using sacrifices.

I went through a few of those spells.

Yexli (Upgraded version of diagnostic sight) - a diagnosis spell that reveals all the ailments/weaknesses/wounds/vulnerabilities someone has suffered on the physiological, psychological, magical, emotional, or spiritual level in their lifetime. The scribble below it were my mother's personal notes:

[Conditions Required: 1. 5 hours' life-force (irreversible) Side Effects: Dizziness, nausea]

I swiftly reached the notes section at the back. There, in my mother's handwriting, was

a list of spells she had invented - each classified as X-Forbidden.

Jualsra - a de-healing spell that reverses the subject's healing process. It can reopen old wounds, both visible and invisible, physical or otherwise, returning them to their worst state.

[Conditions Required: 5 years of life-force (irreversible), blood tongue, undivided visible focus on the targeted wound, chanted thrice to activate fully Side Effects: Phantom pain while casting the spell, drains energy]

Blood tongue was essential for nearly all forbidden spells, requiring the caster to cut, bite, or chew their tongue until their mouth filled with blood before chanting.

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Kunkhlit - a psychological spell makes the subject relive their worst mental traumas, memories, distorting their perception of reality until they turn suicidal. The spell turns even the happy memories into sources of guilt, grief, regret, and self-doubt.

[Conditions Required: 9 years of life-force (reversible with caster gaining additional life-force from the subject once they kill themselves), blood tongue, an emotional connection with the subject, to be chanted when the subject is in a mentally vulnerable state for most effectiveness.]

I had forcefully tried to stop my mind from memorizing any more of those X-forbidden spells. But because of my eidetic memory, I had instinctively acquired everything - whether I intended to or not.

I knew I couldn't be reckless with the spells, so I concentrated on the symbols.

Like magic circles, even mortals could create mana symbols and still achieve nearly 99% efficiency.

Magic circles required various kinds of inks and spells to be effective. And drawing them correctly without magic was an intensely time-consuming process.

That's why mother invented the mana symbols, refining them through countless test subjects and experiments until she created the ultimate concentrated essence of a magic circle.

They were quick and efficient, eliminating the need for intricate patterns and lengthy incantations. The best part, they could achieve the same efficiency as the magic circles with only one ink: blood.

Their only limitation was that two or more mana symbols couldn't be used on a single person at the same time. Doing so would put a severe strain on their body, causing more harm than healing. So, I had to choose the most effective symbol to help Asher recover from the holy rain faster.

The world remained oblivious to these revolutionary symbols because my mother had destroyed them, along with all her research data. Bringing them back could lead to disasters far beyond my imagination.

Yet, regardless of their morally and ethically questionable origins, I decided to use them to heal Asher because his condition was worsening with every passing second. Despite never having created a mana symbol before, I was certain I could do it.

Mother had performed the spells and drawn the magic circles and symbols so many times that they became an instinct ingrained in her. And that instinct was passed down to me.

I bit the tip of my finger. Ignoring Asher's protests, I drew the recovery symbol, a symbol that accelerated healing, on his charred palm, shielding it from the holy rain.

But as expected, it didn't work, and it wasn't just because the rain smudged my blood.

No healing method would be effective on a demon as long as the holy rain kept pouring.

"Damn it!"

Frustrated, I tried to draw the symbol again when Asher grabbed my hand. His grip had never been that weak.

"Stop..." Asher clenched his jaws. "Don't waste your... blood on me. It won't work. I told you not to worry-"

"If our places were reversed, if I were the one burning, from skin to bones, and I told you to not worry about me, to let me suffer - would you?"

The rain drained the color right off his irises when Asher widened his eyes at my words.

"Never." His trembling fingers brushed against my face.

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His breaths quavered, yet he gave me a soft smile - caressing me in a way that cut so

deep, I knew I would never trust his smiles again.

"I will always treasure these moments. You didn't have to, but... thank you for

protecting me, for worrying about me-"

His words still stab me like a blunt knife.

How could anyone smile so serenely, knowing they were about to be attacked?

How could someone be grateful for something as trivial as being worried about them?

I still don't understand why he thanked me for doing the bare minimum, but those words were etched in my mind like a scar because that was the exact moment when everything fell apart.

"Get your filthy hands off my granddaughter!"

The roar ripped through the graveyard like a divine commandment, crushing even the air beneath its transcendental gravity.

The sheer force of those words hurled me away from Asher, knocking the breath from my lungs as I crashed onto the bed of forget-me-nots.

I hadn't even recovered from what had happened when the actual terror struck me -

cold and desperate.

In a blink, a colossal figure loomed behind Asher, towering like a shadow of death.

A massive axe arched downward in a brutal swing - aimed straight for Asher's neck. The blade caught the reflection of glowing green eyes as it sliced through the downpour so fast that for a heartbeat, even the raindrops seemed to freeze midair. Time shattered into slow fragments, stretching.

Asher knelt in the mud, the smile lingering on his face. His eyes held mine with an aching warmth before he closed them.

He could have dodged the attack, but I knew he wouldn't.

"ASHER!" I sprinted towards him. There wasn't much distance between us, yet at that moment I knew I wouldn't reach him in time.

He had told me not to interfere with what celestials do to him, but at that moment all I

could think about was - I cannot lose him!

The salty metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth as I bit my tongue.

My body reacted on its own.

In that split second, I had mentally cast Yexli on Yandor. My eyes stretched wide,

locking on his frame.

Every wound that he had ever gotten appeared as scribbly black scars all over his body. The darker and wider the mark, the more severe the wound had been.

There wasn't a part of his body that hadn't been wounded, but he had sustained critical damage in his abdomen and chest. His psychological wounds ran just as deep. Almost like a survival instinct, a spell tore through my lungs-

"Jualsra!"