Chapter 300: Going ahead with the Plan.

Like Zyren had said, it didn’t take long before the chaos outside finally dissolved into silence.Where they had been a lot of shouting and screams and even loud growls soon it became clear that something had shifted as a strange calm filled the air.

The shrieks, snarls, and sounds of tearing flesh that had echoed through the city faded one by one until only the crackle of dying fires and the distant groans of the wounded remained. Smoke hung low in the air, thick and acrid, clinging to stone walls and broken structures like a suffocating veil. The aftermath of battle lay scattered everywhere—bodies torn apart, black blood smeared across the ground and walls, the remains of Zygons twisted into unnatural shapes that barely resembled living beings anymore.

Inside the structure they had taken refuge in, Aria slowly drew in a breath.

Her sides had fully healed, the torn flesh having knitted itself back together as though it had never been damaged. Her arm, once severed in the heat of battle, had mostly regrown—bone, muscle, and skin re-forming through agonizing effort. Still, the pain hadn’t left her face. It was etched deeply into her features, a silent testament to the trauma her body had endured.

She grit her teeth, forcing herself upright despite the lingering ache that rippled through her nerves.

Remind me to never lose a limb ever again! she thought bitterly, even as she braced herself and moved to step outside alongside Zyren.

Zyren, by contrast, showed no sign of injury or hesitation.

He moved with an air of unquestionable superiority, his tall frame straight and commanding as he stepped into the open. The red of his eyes glowed sharply against the dim light, unhidden by any cloak despite the rising sun threatening the horizon. Unlike the rest of the vampires, Zyren did not shield himself—he never had to. His very presence bent the air around him, authority radiating from him as naturally as breath.

The moment he emerged, his lords—vampires cloaked in dark, sun-protective garments—instantly gravitated toward him, awaiting instruction. Their crimson eyes flicked toward him with unwavering loyalty.

They were all covered in blood.

Most of it was black, thick and oily, unmistakably Zygon blood. It stained armor, soaked into cloaks, and splattered across exposed skin. Beyond the gore, the truth was undeniable—every Zygon they had been battling lay dead.

Zyren himself had personally killed the one imitating King Jared before he had left the battlefield. That alone had made it clear just how dangerous the situation had been. After that, Zyren had turned his attention to the winged Zygons, tearing them from the sky and ensuring none escaped.

Nearby, the council members—werewolves with sharp gold eyes and furry ears flattened back from exhaustion—stood catching their breath. Their bodies bore signs of combat: claw marks, torn clothing, bloodied hands. Yet they stood tall. They had fought the Zygons and emerged victorious.

For a moment, Zyren said nothing.

Then he slowly opened his mouth to speak.

"Spread out and find all the werewolves in hiding," he commanded, his voice calm but edged with lethal certainty. "Try and gather them out. We’ll pick out the Zygons among them and kill them."

The order was clear. Absolute.

But barely had the words left his lips when a noise echoed from the side.

A wet, dragging sound.

Every head snapped toward it instantly.

Weapons were raised. Muscles tensed. Hearts pounded.

For a split second, everyone expected another Zygon to emerge.

Instead, they froze.

Standing there was a bloodied King Jared.

He looked like he had crawled straight out of hell itself.

His powerful frame was barely covered by a stringy, torn piece of cloth clinging uselessly to his waist. His golden eyes burned fiercely beneath matted hair, his furry ears torn and nicked from battle. A massive wound gouged into his shoulder, raw and jagged, as though someone had taken a vicious chunk out of him and left it unfinished.

Beside him stood Clara.

She was just as bloodied, black Zygon blood dripping from her nails and smeared around her mouth. Her body was mostly naked, torn clothing hanging loosely, making it painfully obvious that she had only recently transformed. Her gold eyes were sharp despite her exhaustion, her furry ears twitching as she took in the scene before them.

Shock rippled through the crowd.

But it lasted only a heartbeat.

The men who had been standing around Zyren—werewolves and vampires alike—reacted instantly. Having just battled a Zygon wearing Jared’s face, there was no room for doubt in their minds.

Weapons were raised higher.

Someone screamed.

"Attack him!"

The werewolf who shouted it wore a pained expression, fear and fury twisting his features as he dashed forward without hesitation. Others followed, charging toward Jared with blades and claws ready.

Jared stared at them in disbelief.

Confusion flickered across his face as he watched his own men—and even a few vampires—rush toward him with clear intent to kill. That confusion slowly morphed into rage.

Pure, unrestrained rage.

As they closed the distance, Jared threw his head back and bellowed, his voice booming across the ruined street.

"ARE YOU MAD!"

The sound shook the air itself.

But it didn’t deter them.

They believed the Zygon was simply enraged at being discovered. Confident that King Zyren would intervene if necessary, they pressed forward, weapons raised.

Jared’s fury spiked.

He stepped forward, positioning himself directly in front of Clara, and unleashed his aura.

The effect was immediate.

A crushing force slammed into the charging werewolves, forcing them to their knees as though gravity itself had turned against them. Weapons clattered to the ground. Heads bowed instinctively, fear ripping through their bodies as their instincts screamed obedience.

Their golden eyes widened.

They smelled him.

Not just his face.

His presence.

His authority.

Only one being could command them like this.

Relief flooded their expressions as realization set in.

Even the council members who had remained back stiffened, their tension easing as certainty washed over them. Still, none dared approach too closely. The memory of the Zygon wearing Jared’s face—and the bodies it had left behind—was still too fresh.

Instinctively, several of them glanced toward Zyren, silently seeking confirmation.

That alone infuriated Jared further.

"I get attacked," he snapped, stalking forward, "and this is how I am received?"

His voice boomed with anger.

Before Zyren could respond, Aria stepped forward.

She released her ability.

White specks of light bloomed into the air, surrounding Jared as the healing magic wrapped around him. Slowly, visibly, the wound in his shoulder began to close, torn flesh knitting back together as strength returned to his body.

She extended the same healing toward Clara. Though Clara bore only scratches and bruises, the magic soothed her nonetheless, speeding the healing already taking place.

Silence reigned as the magic faded.

Then, collectively, the werewolves released a long, shaky breath.

The council members—Brilla Falson and Kannedy—stepped forward, bowing their heads slightly as they explained what had happened, justifying the attack with strained urgency.

"...it was baffling," Brilla said. "As far as we know, Zygons can only shapeshift into someone they killed."

Jared listened grimly, then explained his own experience—how two powerful Zygons had ambushed him. One had taken a massive chunk out of him before fleeing, while he had fought and killed the other.

"...maybe by eating part of someone’s flesh, they can still shapeshift," Clara suggested quietly.

Jared nodded. It made sense.

Zyren remained silent, standing to the side as Jared rejoined his people. It didn’t take long before Jared began issuing the same orders Zyren had given—commanding them to scour the city and beyond, to ensure every werewolf was truly who they claimed to be.

The werewolves moved instantly to obey.

When Jared turned to the vampires and issued commands, they hesitated—then looked to Zyren.

Zyren nodded.

Only then did the vampires move.

Aria watched silently, her gaze lingering on Zyren as he remained where he stood. She didn’t dare move without him.

Nearby, she saw Liora—her sister—step closer to Jared.

The plan was back in motion.

And Aria’s heart thumped far louder than she would have liked.

Turning her head to glance at Zyren who seemed completely unborthered almost like nothing mattered especially with his strong he was.

"Are you just going to wait here?" Aira asked him even as she looked around noting some of the hunters whom she recognized simply from the way they walked.

They crowded around taking care of the horses and doing other menial jobs but it was obvious in the way they looked around in an antsey manner.

If I can notice, won’t Zyren, she wondered glancing back at him only go watch him stare up at the sky and the sun which was out.

All the vampires needed to cover themselves from head to toe as simply walking under the sun was already dangerous all except Zyren who stared at the sun like he belonged under it even as he responded to her.

"I have to stay close to you if I’m going to protect you!" he responded almost like his reason were clearly obvious for all to see.

Turning to look at her with a smile at the edges of his face even as all Aira could do was silently stare back.

Her heart still thumping faster than she would have liked.