Sons of a devil-Chapter 120: The rise of Bloodborne

Cain didn't flinch. He nodded, slowly. "You're right. We never gave you the chance to grieve properly. But your fury must be wielded, not unleashed blindly."

"We want the truth," Rina said. "And once we have it—we'll decide what to do."

Later that day, the palace's secret chamber was opened for the first time in years. A glowing map sprawled across the room, showing every corner of Eldralore and beyond. There, under the seal of the royal bloodline, were scrolls, records—names.

One stood out.

Lord Venekar.

An exiled warlock. Once part of the king's council. Banished after attempting to use forbidden magic to overthrow the throne. Bitter. Ruthless. And now, rumored to have created an army of shadow beasts from the forbidden lands east of the Crimson Dunes.

"He's building something worse than war," Eira murmured as she scanned the information. "He's building extinction."

"And we're going to burn it down," Rina said with a grin.

That night, the palace garden hosted a dinner, meant to calm the kingdom. Music played softly as maids moved between tables lit with floating lanterns. Families laughed. Peace, for a moment, settled.

But the bloodborn were not at ease.

Rina sat between her parents, Zara and Leo, picking at her food. She glanced at her cousins and gave them a subtle wink. Her hand lit briefly with blue fire beneath the table.

"We leave at sunrise," Azrael Jr. said under his breath.

Selene, watching them, leaned against Cain.

"They're going to finish what we started."

Cain nodded. "And maybe save us all from what we've become."

Later that night, as the kingdom slept, the three stood by the gates. Eira joined them, placing a hand on Caelan's shoulder.

"Come back alive."

Eren grinned and kissed Rina's forehead. "And don't burn anyone I know."

"No promises," Rina smirked.

They vanished into the shadows, the night wrapping around them like armor.

From the highest balcony, Queen Isolde's portrait shimmered with moonlight, and her voice, carried on the wind, whispered across the lands.

"Vengeance raised you, but love must lead you."

The war wasn't over.

It had only just begun.

The sky bled into morning, painting streaks of scarlet and gold across the horizon as the gates of Eldralore closed behind the three young warriors. Rina's cloak billowed in the wind, the tips of her flaming curls crackling faintly in the still air. Azrael Jr. walked with precision, his steps controlled, but his fists clenched with a barely contained storm. Caelan, quieter than usual, carried with him the weight of a soul who had seen too much too soon.

As they journeyed through the forested paths beyond the kingdom's borders, Rina suddenly burst into laughter.

"What now?" Caelan asked.

"I just remembered... remember when you tripped into that mud hole trying to sneak out?" she smirked.

Azrael Jr. sighed. "Rina, we're trying to maintain a terrifying, vengeful presence."

She skipped ahead of them. "Sorry, sorry. But you both looked so serious. It was hurting my fire glands."

Despite the mission's weight, her humor softened the sharp edge of silence.

Behind them, unseen and cloaked in light, Queen Isolde's spirit stood for a moment longer before fading into the breeze. Watching. Blessing. Hoping.

Meanwhile, back at the palace, Cain stood in the royal study, his eyes scanning the parchment left by his sons. The note was short.

"Father,

We are not running.

We are finishing what you and Mother started.

We love you."

His hand trembled as he held the paper. Selene stepped in quietly behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"They'll come back."

"I should've stopped them."

"No," she whispered, her eyes distant. "We didn't raise them to be fragile. We raised them to fight for what matters."

Hours passed.

The twins and Rina reached the edge of the eastern ruins—once a sacred city, now a haunted skeleton of broken towers and shadows. Magic thickened the air. Every step crackled with latent curses.

A cry rang out from the cliffs.

"Ambush!" Azrael Jr. roared, throwing up a shield of ice as dark figures erupted from behind rocks and rubble.

Shadow creatures, with fangs like obsidian and eyes of violet flame, surrounded them.

Rina leapt forward, spinning mid-air as her body ignited in fire. "You picked the wrong toddlers to mess with!"

Her fire exploded outward, engulfing the beasts in a wave of molten heat.

Caelan's blade shimmered as he moved like smoke, slicing through three with one sweep.

Azrael Jr. summoned a frozen dragon, its wings spreading above them, letting out a roar so loud it split the sky.

They moved in perfect sync—three grandchildren of power and prophecy.

As night fell, silence reclaimed the ruined battlefield. Their breaths were heavy, their armor scorched, but they stood—alive, together, and unbroken.

Rina looked over at her cousins. "Still want to doubt a five-year-old?"

Caelan chuckled, wiping blood from his face. "You're terrifying."

Azrael Jr. nodded. "And the most dangerous weapon we've got."

They lit a fire and sat together beneath the stars, not as princes and warriors, but as cousins who once played hide and seek in palace halls.

Back at the castle, Selene looked out the window, her hand resting over her heart.

"Did you feel that?" she asked.

Cain stepped beside her. "I did. They survived something."

"And they're just getting started."

A whisper of wind curled into the room, carrying a single ember.

Rina's fire.

Even across great distances, their bond burned bright.