The Omega Knight's Secret Baby Daddy is A PRINCE?!-Chapter 103: Not Again.
Ezra stared at Lanie’s lifeless body, a hollow ache knotting inside him. He felt helpless, his thoughts a desperate scramble for meaning.
Ricardo’s raw, guttural sobs echoed through the clearing. He clung to his wife with a desperation that bordered on agony.
’She’s dead.’
Ezra’s breath quickened. He glanced from Ricardo to the girls being dragged away by cultists.
"M-Mommy! Mommy, wake up!"
"Daddy, please wake mommy up and help us!"
Their desperate, piercing cries sliced through the chaos, demanding to be heard above the madness.
Ezra turned his head toward Kaelis.
Kaelis was still fighting, his sword flashing as he blocked the cultists’ attacks from every direction. He likely hadn’t seen what had happened.
Everything had become a mess.
Ezra’s sense of helplessness grew in the chaos, pulling his attention inward for the first time in a long while.
His ears rang. The noise in his mind was deafening; he struggled to think.
’Kaelis is getting overwhelmed. There are too many of them. Ricardo can’t fight like this. His daughters are being taken. I’m—’
"Captain Ezra!" Ranie cried desperately. "You said you were going to save us! Please!"
"Please save our daddy, he’s—"
Ezra snapped his gaze back to Ricardo, focusing fully on him.
Ricardo was still kneeling, holding Lanie’s body as he cried. Darkness was beginning to gather around him.
Ezra’s heart dropped.
’Darkness...’
"Ricardo, no... calm down," Ezra said, struggling against the cultists holding him.
"It’s too late, Captain," one of the cultists said in a distorted voice.
"Yes. He’s about to turn," another voice added calmly. "No amount of words can pull a husband away from grief."
A quiet chuckle followed.
"Love is a funny thing, you see."
Ezra forced himself to ignore the cultists and redirected his focus to Ricardo.
"Ricardo! Your daughters are watching! You—"
But Ricardo didn’t react.
The cultists were right.
Ricardo didn’t even flinch at Ezra’s voice.
"Daddy, please!"
"Please, daddy, look at us!"
More shadows thickened, closing in around Ricardo.
It slithered along the ground like smoke. It coiled around him as he knelt beside Lanie.
Ezra felt his frustration boiling over.
’Fuck it.’
Yeah.
Just fuck it. All of it.
His breathing grew heavier. As a knight, he recognized the feeling immediately.
Adrenaline.
The cultists were stronger. Their grip was tight, their movements controlled.
But right now, Ezra had a job to do.
’Come on, Ezra,’ he told himself.
He twisted his body and pulled his left arm forward, testing the strength of their hold.
But this time he wasn’t trying to break free.
No.
Instead, Ezra yanked the nearest cultist toward him—the one holding his left arm. The same one who had been whispering in his ear.
The cultist stumbled closer, clearly confused.
"What are you—"
Ezra didn’t hesitate.
He bit down on the cultist’s arm.
Hard.
Not a warning bite.
Not something meant to scare.
He bit like he was trying to tear flesh off bone.
"AGH—! FUCK! FUCK, GET HIM AWAY FROM ME!" the cultist screamed, his distorted voice cracking as he tried to yank his arm away.
But Ezra only bit deeper.
And he refused to let go.
Even when he tasted blood.
’Fuck you.’
The cultist screamed again.
"AGHHHH!"
The other three cultists reacted immediately.
The ones holding Ezra’s right arm and legs let go as they rushed to pull their companion away.
That was the opening. He saw it—the moment he needed.
The second their grip loosened, Ezra moved.
He released his bite and shoved the cultist away.
Then he kicked out hard.
His boot slammed into the chest of the cultist nearest his legs.
The man stumbled backward.
Ezra twisted and kicked again, catching the second one before he could react.
Both of them had been distracted.
That was all Ezra needed.
Ezra spat a thick glob of blood from his mouth, the metallic taste lingering as he dragged the back of his hand across his lips, smearing red across his skin.
He grabbed his sword from the ground.
"He’s getting away!" shouted the cultist Ezra had bitten.
Ezra ran.
Straight toward Ricardo.
The cultists nearby turned their heads as he passed. Some of them simply watched him, their silver masks catching the faint light between the trees.
As if he were the monster.
The strange one who used his teeth just to escape.
Ezra didn’t care.
’The girls...’
He glanced toward where they were being carried. The cultists holding them weren’t dragging them anymore.
They were simply walking.
Calmly.
But there were too many of them—an overwhelming wall of masked faces and silent menace between him and the children.
Kaelis couldn’t even push past the ones attacking him.
’Then save who you can.’
Ezra reached Ricardo and dropped beside him.
Ricardo was still kneeling on the ground, clutching Lanie’s body like he refused to accept she was gone.
"Ricardo," Ezra said, grabbing his shoulder and shaking him lightly.
No response.
"Ricardo, listen to me."
Ezra shook him harder.
"Your daughters are still here. They’re watching you."
Ricardo’s shoulders trembled.
"Lanie... Lanie..."
"Ricardo!" Ezra snapped. "Look at me."
Slowly, Ricardo lifted his head.
His eyes were red and unfocused.
"You can’t fall apart now," Ezra said, his voice rough. "Your girls are still here. They need you."
He pointed toward Ranie and Larnie, who were still crying as they watched their father break down.
"And Lanie... she trusted you."
Ricardo’s breathing hitched.
For a moment, the darkness swirling around him flickered.
"You hear me?" Ezra said more quietly. "She’s counting on you to keep your babies safe."
Nearby, Kaelis finally realized what was happening.
His head snapped toward the girls.
Shock crossed his face.
Then he moved.
Kaelis shoved aside one cultist, then fought his way forward toward the girls.
"Let them go!" he shouted.
Ricardo’s grip on Lanie loosened.
He blinked slowly, as if waking from a nightmare.
"My... girls... they need me..."
"Yes, they need you," Ezra said quickly. "So I need you to keep it together so I can focus on saving—fuck!"
Before Ezra could finish, icy fingers clamped down on his shoulder, seizing him with sudden force.
Ezra spun around immediately, sword already rising.
He was ready to stab whoever grabbed him.
He was tired of being grabbed.
He froze, heart hammering, breath shuddering as adrenaline surged.
A sharp scent hit him.
His nose burned.
’What...?’
Pheromones.
Alpha pheromones.
Not just one.
Many.
Ezra’s eyes widened as he looked around.
Several cultists had gathered nearby.
They weren’t attacking.
They were just standing there.
Watching him.
The leader stepped forward.
"That’s enough, Captain Ezra," the distorted voice said calmly. "We already warned you."
The scent thickened, suffocating and heavy, making Ezra’s skin prickle with dread.
’No, no, no...fuck. Not again.’
Ezra felt it pressing down, an invisible weight threatening to crush his will. He fought to stay standing, resisting the urge to collapse.
"We did not want to do this."
Ezra tried to breathe.
Each breath burned his lungs like inhaling needles.
He dug his fingers into the dirt, forcing himself upright.
’Move.’
But his body refused.
The pheromones pressed down on him like an invisible boulder, crushing his chest. His vision danced wildly as panic twisted with helplessness, and the forest spun around him.
Ricardo’s voice trembled somewhere nearby.
"Captain... what... what is happening?"
Ezra wanted to answer.
He wanted to tell him to run.
To grab his daughters and run.
But his voice failed. Would Ricardo even be able to do it?
His chest tightened again.
He planted his palms in the ground and strained his arms, trying to lift his upper body.
’Get up, Ezra Belloren. You weak piece of shit. Lanie is gone; don’t let Ricardo lose his daughters.’
His muscles trembled as he tried to stand.
His legs pushed, lifting him slightly off the ground for half a second before collapsing again.
Then everything tilted.
Ezra collapsed back to the ground.
Leaves crunched beneath him as his shoulder hit the dirt.
’No...’
Ranie and Larnie’s cries echoed through the trees.
"Daddy!"
"Please let us go!"
"Captain, help us!"
Ezra’s heart pounded.
’I have to move.’
Ricardo was still there.
His daughters were still being taken.
Ezra clenched his jaw, desperation burning his insides, and willed his shaking body to rise.
His arms shook violently.
The pheromones flooded his senses, making it harder to think.
Breathing grew harder.
Even keeping his eyes open became a struggle.
’I can’t...’
His body gave out again. What’s worse, he was feeling warm—his skin starting to heat. That sensation wasn’t a good sign.
Then suddenly—
A bright golden light burst through the darkness.
Ezra forced himself to look up, squinting.
Even through his blurred vision, he recognized it immediately.
’...Kaelis.’
Golden light poured through the clearing.
It spilled from Kaelis’ body like the rising sun.
The power of the royal bloodline.
The power of the sun itself.
Gifted to the most pure-blooded of their family, the strongest.
They called it the ’ray of sunshine.’
It was not something the princes used lightly.
In fact, they almost never used it.
Not unless there was no other choice.
The light burned everything it touched.
Everyone.
Except those who carried golden blood.
And every time they used it, it drained them.
That was why it was reserved for the worst situations.
Emergencies.
Moments like this.
The moment the light spread across the clearing, the cultists reacted.
Screams broke through the forest.
"What—?!"
"It’s the ray!"
"No—!"
Panic filled their voices.
They hadn’t expected this.
Not with the horde of Dark Ones still roaming nearby and Kaelis needing his strength.
But Kaelis had done it anyway.
The golden light flared brighter.
Smoke began rising wherever it touched the ground, the trees, the cultists’ cloaks.
The air was filled with the smell of burning fabric. Flesh. It was sharp and acrid, impossible to ignore.
Ezra tried to breathe.
The smoke made it worse.
His chest seized, squeezing like a fist, pain blooming across his ribs.
’I feel like I’m going to die.’ But he couldn’t. Not now. Not ever. Not when Lior was waiting for him.
Through the ringing in his ears, he heard footsteps.
Dozens of them.
Running.
Retreating.
Ricardo’s voice cut through the chaos.
"MY DAUGHTERS!"
More footsteps.
"DADDY!"
"DADDY, NO! NO! PLEASE!"
"LARNIE! RANIE!"
