His Bride, Her Revenge

Chapter 136: The Last Oath

The air inside the ruined Black Citadel pulsed with tension, thick with blood, magic, and ash. The great obsidian walls, once symbols of Blackwood might, now stood fractured, scarred by betrayal and war. Crimson banners that once bore the sigil of the Vale Dynasty now hung in tatters, fluttering in the wind like ghosts of a fading era.

Cambria stood alone at the top of the throne dais, her blood-stained armor cracked but gleaming in the torchlight. Behind her, the shattered remnants of the God Engine pulsed erratically, flickering between realms a dying heart on the edge of implosion. She had bound it to her soul, sacrificed part of her humanity to control its power, and now she could feel it unraveling inside her.

Her hands shook, not from fear, but from restraint. Every breath she took was a battle between godhood and mortality. noveldrama

Below, on the marble floor, lay Maddox Raye, motionless.

Knox knelt beside his brother, the shock in his eyes far deeper than any wound he’d suffered. Blood streamed from his shoulder where Cambria had cut him down, but his gaze was only on Maddox the one man he had never intended to lose.

"He shouldn’t have jumped in the way," Knox whispered, his voice cracking. "That blade was meant for me."

Cambria’s jaw clenched. "He knew."

Silence fell again, broken only by the distant clash of the final battles raging across the kingdom. The Rebellion had fractured. The Pandora Protocol had collapsed. The perfected weapons had begun turning on each other when the command hierarchy was severed thanks to Evelyn’s sacrifice.

Now only ruins remained.

A slow, steady clapping echoed from the shadows.

Lucien Vale stepped forward, draped in a dark velvet cloak streaked with gold and ash. His once-golden hair had gone white, his face gaunt and twisted by the unnatural rituals he had used to extend his life. He looked like a man who had stared too long into the abyss and made it bow.

"Well done, my daughter," he said, smiling without warmth. "You’ve brought the world to its knees. Just like I taught you."

Cambria’s fingers curled into fists. "You taught me to lie. To manipulate. To kill."

"And you did it brilliantly," Lucien said, stepping closer. "Project Pandora was never about weapons. It was about divinity. About ascension. About you."

"I’m not your creation anymore," she snarled.

Lucien tilted his head. "But you are, Cambria. You were always meant to surpass me. Just like Seraphine did. Just like Evelyn might have... had she not chosen love over legacy."

Knox stood slowly, his eyes bloodshot. "What are you saying?"

Lucien turned toward him, amused. "You think this was ever about kingdoms and crowns? No, boy. This was about evolution. About which bloodline would inherit the stars? Yours was too flawed. Mine... was divine."

He raised his hands. A surge of dark light erupted behind him as the remnants of the God Engine flared, reacting to his presence. The air crackled with ancestral power.

Cambria felt it too the pull of ancient blood. But she resisted.

"I will not become you," she said.

"You already have."

With a roar, Lucien thrust his hand forward, unleashing a torrent of energy. The desk cracked. Marble split. Cambria was hurled back, colliding against the broken frame of the throne.

She gasped, her ribs aching but she rose.

And then someone else stepped out of the shadows.

A woman.

Alive.

Evelyn Vale.

Her golden armor glimmered, marred by soot and flame. Her eyes were filled with sorrow but also with unshakable resolve.

"Hello, Father," she said coldly.

Lucien’s expression flickered for the first time. "You should be dead."

"I was," Evelyn replied. "But so long as Cambria breathes, so do I. We’re bound not by Project Pandora, but by choice."

She extended her arm, and a blade of pure starlight formed in her grasp.

Cambria, staggering upright, blinked at her sister. "You’re real?"

Evelyn nodded. "I came back for you."

They turned to face Lucien together.

The final war had become a reckoning.

Lucien unleashed everything: fire, shadows, and echoes of every forbidden spell he’d ever absorbed. But together, the sisters carved through them, light and fury entwined. Evelyn struck from the sky, Cambria from the ground, and the remnants of the citadel trembled under their might.

Knox watched, powerless, as the last of the Blackwood prophecy unraveled.

Lucien faltered.

Bleeding.

Breathing heavily.

Still defiant.

"I gave you everything," he spat, glaring at Cambria. "You were my legacy."

She stood over him, her sword poised above his chest.

"No," she said. "I am my own."

And she drove the blade through his heart.

Lucien Vale gasped.

And smiled.

As the light faded from his eyes, he whispered, "Then be the queen you were born to be."

Silence.

Then the citadel began to collapse.

The sisters ran, dragging Knox with them. As they crossed the broken bridge over the abyss, the God Engine behind them imploded, sending a shockwave that split the sky in half. A dome of white light expanded, then vanished.

And all was still.

Two Days Later – The Vale Memorial Grounds

The capital had no king. No crown. No Senate.

Only survivors.

And a funeral.

Maddox Raye was laid to rest beneath the Blackwood tree, his grave adorned with letters, weapons, and roses left by those who had fought beside him. Cambria stood in silence as the last handful of soil was cast over the casket.

Knox didn’t cry.

He had no more tears.

Only guilt.

"He was the better brother," he said softly.

Cambria touched his shoulder. "He was the best of us."

They turned to leave but found themselves facing a crowd.

Soldiers. Rebels. Citizens.

They knelt.

Not to mourn.

But to rise.

A voice spoke out. One of the generals. "We have no crown. No ruler. No hope unless she wears it."

Cambria stepped back, shaking her head. "I’m not your queen."

Evelyn came forward, placing something into Cambria’s hand a black ring engraved with the sigil of Seraphine Vale.

"You are," Evelyn said. "Because you’re the only one who never wanted it."

The crowd chanted her name.

Not as a weapon.

Not as a pawn.

But as a symbol.

She looked to the sky. The last oath she had ever taken echoed in her memory:

"I will burn this world down before I let it control me."

Now, she had the power to rebuild it.

Cambria Vale closed her eyes.

And accepted her fate.

But as night fell over the ruined empire, a shadow moved in the outer forests beyond the capital tall, cloaked, and ancient.

He knelt before a blackened altar, whispering a name long thought erased from every scroll:

"Subject Zero..."

The true original weapon stirred.

And its eyes opened.