WHAT LIVES BENEATH THE VEIL
Book Ten: The Eternal Return
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CONTENT WARNING: This series contains explicit sexual violence, human sacrifice, psychological torture, murder of innocent characters (including children and family members), ritualistic killing, and extreme horror. No character is safe. Read at your own risk.
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Chapter Two Hundred Sixty-Three: The Demon Hunter's Creed
Year 272 – Two Hundred Sixty-One Years After the Curse
The demon hunter in the east had hunted for two hundred sixty-one years.
Not literally—he was only forty-eight. But he had hunted as if he had been sending demons back to the hells for centuries. Every day. Every night. Every demon of every kind.
He believed the queen was a demon.
He believed he could send her back.
He believed he could end her.
His name was Kael—another echo, another coincidence. He was young, skilled, and ruthless. He had a sword. A crossbow. A purpose.
He had heard the stories.
The legends.
The fear.
He did not believe them.
He could not believe them.
No one was that powerful.
No one was that evil.
No one was that alone.
He was wrong.
But he had found something.
A blessing.
An ancient blessing, bestowed upon his order by a dying angel, a promise that his weapons would be effective against any darkness, any evil, any demon.
He had believed it.
He had trusted it.
He had relied on it.
This is it, he thought.
This is the answer.
This is how I banish her.
He did not see the shadows gathering.
He did not hear the whispers growing louder.
He did not feel the darkness closing in.
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The Eastern Monastery – Morning
Kael trained in the monastery, as he always did.
The sun was warm. The air was still. The silence was sacred.
Life is simple, he thought.
Life is pure.
Life is mine.
He did not see the shadows.
He did not hear the whispers.
He did not feel the darkness watching.
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The Ruins – Morning
Liora sat on the throne, listening to the whispers.
Three million and twenty-six souls now served her. They flitted through the shadows, invisible to all but her, reporting on everything they saw and heard.
They told her about the demon hunter.
He is skilled, they said. He is ruthless. He is dangerous.
He has a blessing. An ancient blessing. Bestowed upon his order by a dying angel.
It makes his weapons effective against any darkness.
Any evil.
Any demon.
He believes you are a demon.
He believes he can banish you.
He believes he can end you.
Liora's smile widened.
A blessing, she thought.
Bestowed by a dying angel.
It makes his weapons effective against any darkness.
Any evil.
Any demon.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
But I am not a demon.
I am not evil.
I am eternal.
And no blessing—
No angel—
No holy weapon—
Can banish me.
She stood up.
She walked down the steps.
The shadows followed.
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The Eastern Monastery – Night
Kael prayed in the monastery, alone.
The candles were lit. The incense was burning. The silence was deep.
Tomorrow, he thought.
Tomorrow I go to the ruins.
Tomorrow I face the queen.
Tomorrow I banish her.
He did not see the shadows gathering.
He did not hear the whispers growing louder.
He did not feel the darkness closing in.
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The Monastery
Liora appeared in the doorway.
White dress. Black eyes. Pale skin.
"You're here," she said.
Kael opened his eyes.
"Who—"
"I am the queen."
"The queen?"
"Yes."
"Please—"
"Shh."
Kael raised his sword.
Liora moved.
Faster than he could follow. Faster than he could react.
Her hand closed around his wrist.
"You won't need that."
"Let go of me."
"No."
Kael tried to pull away.
He could not.
Liora's grip was like iron.
"What are you?"
"I am what comes next."
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The Feeding – Kael
Liora reached into the demon hunter's mind.
He tried to resist.
He was skilled. Ruthless. Dangerous.
But she was stronger.
She pushed past his defenses.
She found his memories.
...the hunts...
...the banishing...
...the hope ...
...that he could be the one...
...that he could stop her...
...that he could banish her...
She pulled.
The memories flowed into her.
The skill.
The ruthlessness.
The soul.
Delicious, she thought.
More.
She pulled again.
He gasped.
His body convulsed.
His eyes rolled back.
She pulled again.
He went limp.
She withdrew from his mind.
She looked down at him.
Still breathing. Still alive. But empty.
The demon hunter was no more.
Just a shell.
Another victim.
Another name for the list.
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The Blessing
Liora picked up his sword.
It hummed in her hand.
It was warm.
It was alive.
It was blessed.
Interesting, she thought.
Very interesting.
She raised the sword.
She looked at its reflection in her eyes.
Her eyes were black.
Her skin was pale.
Her smile was wide.
This blessing could banish anything, she thought.
Any darkness.
Any evil.
Any demon.
But I am not a demon.
I am not evil.
I am eternal.
And no blessing—
No angel—
No holy weapon—
Can banish me.
She snapped the sword in half.
The metal broke.
The hum stopped.
The warmth died.
The blessing ended.
No one will ever use it now, she thought.
No one will ever try again.
I am safe.
I am eternal.
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The Three Million Twenty-Seventh Sacrifice
She performed the ritual in the monastery, surrounded by candles and incense.
The whispers watched.
She spoke the words.
She made the cuts.
She collected the blood.
And when it was over—
The darkness roared.
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The Power – Three Million Twenty-Seven
The fire in her veins burned brighter.
Three million and twenty-seven sacrifices. Three million and twenty-seven souls. Three million and twenty-seven streams of darkness flowing into her, merging with her blood, becoming her.
Three million twenty-seven, she thought.
The hunger is quieter now.
But it will return.
It always returns.
She released the spell.
The shadows retreated.
She looked at the body.
A demon hunter. Skilled. Dead.
No one is safe from me, she thought.
No one.
Not even the skilled.
She smiled in the darkness.
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The Disposal
She burned Kael's body in the monastery's brazier.
The fire was hot. The smoke was thick. She worked quickly, efficiently, scattering the ashes before dawn.
No one saw her.
No one ever saw her.
She walked back to the ruins as the sun rose, smelling of smoke and blood and darkness.
She washed her face in a broken fountain.
She braided her hair with her fingers.
She wore a white dress she had found in a forgotten wardrobe.
She practiced her smile.
Eyes wide. Innocence.
Mouth soft. Gentleness.
Head tilted. Curiosity.
Perfect, she thought.
She sat on the throne.
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The Empty Throne
The throne room was open to the sky.
No walls. No roof. No protection.
Just Liora.
And the whispers.
You are alone, they said.
Yes, she thought.
But I am not lonely.
I have you.
I have all of you.
Forever.
She closed her eyes.
She listened to the whispers.
They told her about the world.
The new kings. The new heroes. The new legends.
They told her about a young woman in the west. A seer. Gifted. She had been having visions for years, seeing the future, the past, the present.
She saw the queen's end.
She saw how to achieve it.
She believed she could guide the next hero to victory.
Liora smiled.
Let her see, she thought.
Let her guide.
Let her believe.
I have time.
I have forever.
And when her hero comes—
I will feed.
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End of Chapter Two Hundred Sixty-Three