Chapter 409: Despair And Hope

Astrid didn’t know how long she was unconscious.

Seconds? Minutes? Hours?

All she knew was darkness. Silence. The thundering of her own heartbeat in her ears.

She tumbled through nothing, lost and terrified, not knowing which way was up or down or if either even existed anymore.

She didn’t want to open her eyes.

She was too scared.

This wasn’t like anything she’d ever experienced.

She was only six years old.

She’d never faced danger like this.

She’d never been truly afraid before—not like this, not bone-deep terror that made her want to curl into a ball and disappear.

But she had no choice.

Because around her, sounds began to emerge from the darkness.

Screaming.

Crying.

Weapons clashing.

Arrows whistling through air.

Swords slicing through flesh.

The horrible, unmistakable sounds of violence and death.

And unable to hold back any longer, Astrid’s eyes snapped open.

She was in a jungle.

A thick, swampy forest filled with strange trees and stranger plants—nothing like the gardens back home, nothing like any place she’d ever seen.

The air was heavy and wet. Strange sounds echoed from all directions.

But none of that mattered.

Because everywhere she looked—

People were dying.

The humans from the party—the diplomats, the waitstaff, the guards, the normal people who had just been laughing and celebrating—were being butchered.

By demi-humans.

The same demi-humans who had praised her moments ago.

The same ones who had called her a blessing, who had asked for her autograph, who had smiled and laughed and made her feel so special.

They were cutting them down.

Swords slashed. Arrows flew. Bodies crumpled to the ground, and the demi-humans kept swinging, kept shooting, kept killing with manic smiles on their faces.

"No..." Astrid whispered. "No, no, no..."

A human waiter—the kind man who had given her a chocolate earlier—stumbled past her, an arrow in his back. He fell to his knees, reaching out to her.

"Run..." He gasped. "Little one...run..."

A demi-human warrior appeared behind him and brought a sword down on his neck.

Blood splattered across Astrid’s face.

She didn’t move.

Couldn’t move.

Her body was cold. Her mind stopped working.

Everything was frozen except the horror consuming her from the inside.

—

The truth of what was happening would only become clear later.

The king of that demi-human world had genuinely agreed to the alliance. He believed in peace. He wanted a better future for his people.

But his eldest son—the prince—felt differently.

He had been raised on stories of the Eternal Queen.

Her influence ran deep in his blood.

He had been taught that humans were enemies, that they could never be trusted, that peace was weakness and alliance was surrender.

And when his father signed the treaty anyway, ignoring his protests, something inside him snapped.

Rage consumed him.

Hatred burned in his chest like fire.

And he decided to send a message.

Through ancient magic—forbidden arts that required sacrifice, that cost lives to fuel—he created that portal.

And he pulled half the party into his world.

But slaughtering random humans wasn’t his goal.

No, he wanted something more.

He wanted to destroy the peace itself.

And Astrid was the perfect tool.

The seven-tailed child.

The symbol of unity.

The bridge between worlds.

The daughter of the woman who had brokered this hated alliance.

If he cut off those precious tails—those symbols of hope—and made them into a coat?

If he sent that coat back to the human world as a message?

The humans would rage. They would hate. They would demand vengeance.

The demi-humans would see the response as proof that humans were savage.

Everything Nadia had built would crumble.

War would return.

And he would be remembered as the one who destroyed the peace.

—

Astrid didn’t know any of this, of course.

She only knew that one by one, the people around her were dying.

She saw a civil officer she’d shaken hands with earlier get his head cleaved from his shoulders.

She saw a young waiter who had served her juice get an arrow through his eye.

She saw a woman who had complimented her tails get run through with a spear, her body falling in a heap.

Blood pooled around her feet.

Guts spilled across the ground.

Heads rolled past her like grotesque balls.

And she couldn’t move.

Couldn’t scream.

Couldn’t do anything but tremble on the cold, wet ground, her seven tails wrapped around herself in a futile attempt at protection.

The sounds of slaughter gradually faded.

One by one, the screams stopped.

Until only silence remained.

And then—footsteps.

Approaching.

Surrounding.

Astrid looked up through tear-blurred eyes.

Demi-humans encircled her.

Their weapons were wet with blood.

Their faces were twisted with hatred and vicious glee.

"The little fox." One growled. "The symbol of peace."

"Look at her tails. So pretty. So fluffy."

"The prince will be pleased."

They closed in.

Particularly, a massive warrior raised an axe above her—aimed not at her head, not at her heart, but at her tails.

At the things she loved most. At the things that made her special.

But even then, Astrid couldn’t even flinch.

She had nothing left.

No fight.

No hope.

No strength.

She just sat there, a six-year-old girl covered in the blood of strangers, waiting to die.

And in that final moment, all she could think about was her family.

Her aunts who spoiled her rotten, who never held back their affection like her mother sometimes did.

She wanted to feel their hugs again.

Her sisters.

Charlotte with her endless energy, Anya with her serious little face, the younger ones she’d never get to see grow up.

She wanted to play with them one more time.

Her mother—Nadia, who was probably devastated right now, who must be feeling so much guilt, who she wanted to hold and tell that it wasn’t her fault.

And Mika.

Her little brother Mika.

The one she loved most in all the world.

But when she thought of him, she was actually relieved as in that moment Mika wasn’t here.

Earlier, she had dragged him to the party by his collar.

He hadn’t wanted to come—too many people, too much noise, he’d said.

But she’d insisted, because she wanted him to see how special she was to the demi-humans.

And when the portal pulled her in, she’d seen him at the very edge of its radius.

Right at the boundary. Close enough to be terrifying, but far enough to be safe.

He was alive.

He was okay.

Nothing would happen to him.

And somehow that thought brought her peace.

Even as the axe rose above her.

Even as death stared her in the face.

Even as tears streamed down her cheeks.

She was happy.

Her little brother was safe.

That was enough.

’I love you, Mika.’

She thought as the axe began its descent.

’I love you so much. Take care of everyone for me. Be a good little brother. Be—’

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

Massive explosions rocked the forest.

The ground beneath her trembled.

And when Astrid’s eyes snapped open, she that the demi-human with the axe was gone—blown backward by some invisible force.

Around her, warriors were flying through the air, crashing into trees, screaming in pain and confusion.

And then—

She felt it.

Hands.

Warm hands, wrapping around her, lifting her up.

For a horrible moment, she thought it was another attacker.

Someone coming to finish what the others had started.

She thrashed, tried to scream, tried to fight—

But the arms held her gently.

Safely.

Like she was something precious.

Something worth protecting.

And the sensation—

It was so familiar.

So warm.

So right.

She had felt this before. Many times. In hugs. In cuddles.

In quiet moments when someone held her close and made her feel like everything would be okay.

But that was impossible.

That person wasn’t here.

That person was safe. Far away. On the other side of that terrible portal.

Wasn’t he?

She opened her eyes.

And there he was.

Mika.

Her little brother Mika.

He was running—faster than she’d ever seen anyone run—carrying her through the chaos, through the smoke, through the screams of confused enemies.

His face was set in an expression she’d never seen before.

Not the shy, reluctant little brother she knew.

Not the boy who complained when she hugged him too tight.

This was something else.

Something fierce.

Something protective.

Something that made him look like—

Like a guardian angel.

And Astrid...Astrid broke down.

Tears poured from her eyes—not tears of sadness, not tears of despair, but tears of sheer, overwhelming relief.

"Mika." She sobbed, clutching at his clothes with trembling hands. "Mika, Mika, Mika—"

"I’ve got you." He said, his voice rough but steady. "I’ve got you, Astrid. Hold on tight."

"But how—how did you—you’re not supposed to be—I thought...I thought you were safe."

She whispered, her voice cracking.

"I saw you at the edge of the portal. I thought you—"

"I jumped in." Mika said simply, still running, still holding her close. "When I saw you get pulled in, I jumped after you."

"You jumped?! Into that thing?! Mika, you could have escaped! You—you could’ve been safe! You could’ve been with Mama right now?!"

"So, why?! Why did you jump in?!"

And in response to her outrage, he glanced down at her with a teasing smile and said,

"You mean watch from the sidelines and watch them take my self-proclaimed big sister away from me..."

He scoffed.

"...as if I’m going to let that happen. Not in a million years."

Astrid’s heart clenched.

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

All this time—while she was being pulled through that terrible vortex, while she was watching people die around her, while she was sitting frozen in terror waiting for that axe to fall—she had held onto one comforting thought.

’Mika is safe.’

’Mika is far away from all this.’

’Mika is alive.’

But he wasn’t safe.

He wasn’t far away.

He had thrown himself into the very heart of danger. For her.

And somehow he had actually managed to save her.

Realising this, tears flooded her eyes.

Not tears of fear anymore, but tears of overwhelming gratitude, of love so intense it hurt.

People always said they would save someone they loved.

They always talked about taking a bullet for another person.

But Mika had proven it.

He had faced down an army of murderous demi-humans, created explosions, caused chaos, and snatched her from the brink of death.

She wanted to hug him.

She wanted to kiss his face a thousand times.

She wanted to say "I love you" until her voice gave out.

But she couldn’t.

Because even though Mika had saved her from immediate death, the nightmare wasn’t over.

"AFTER THEM! DON’T LET THEM ESCAPE!"

Shouts erupted behind them. The sound of boots pounding against forest floor. Arrows whistling past their heads.

The army was still chasing them.

Mika had created a distraction. He had grabbed her and run.

But the demi-humans—enraged, humiliated, furious were not about to let their prize slip away.

"GET THE FOX-GIRL! THE PRINCE WANTS HER HEAD!"

"KILL THE BOY! HE’S JUST A CHILD—CUT HIM DOWN!"

Astrid trembled at the sounds. So many voices. So many enemies. So much hatred directed at them.

But Mika?

Mika didn’t tremble.

He was only five years old. Even younger then her and she had always been taller, always looked down at him when she ruffled his hair.

But right now, looking at him from behind as he ran, he didn’t look like a five-year-old at all.

He looked like a man on a mission.

A mission to save her life.

And nothing—nothing was going to stop him.