Chapter 28 - Prince Red Riding Hood

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Chapter 28

 

 

The battle raged on, both witch and wolf locked in a brutal struggle, driven by pain and sheer will.

 

Trembling, Lil didn't look away. He prayed—for Klaus to win.

 

He had never hated his own helplessness more than he did now.

 

To think of why Klaus was fighting… it made the inability to help almost unbearable.

 

If Klaus truly was a divine guardian, tasked with preventing the witch from evolving and escaping… then the one he was protecting was not just Lil, but the entire world below this mountain.

 

And yet here Lil was—bound by shackles, unable to do anything but scream his name and rattle his chains.

 

What… what can I do to help Klaus? If I'm the nourishment the witch needs to evolve… then should I just die right now? Would that save him? If it would ensure his survival… I wouldn't mind dying!

 

Though the witch had lost an arm and her movements slowed, Klaus did not appear to gain the upper hand.

 

Her tail remained a fearsome weapon—capable of piercing Klaus's body from afar without even closing the distance.

 

"Please stop… Grandmother! Please! If you keep going, Klaus will die!"

 

Lil screamed, his eyes fixed on the scene before him.

 

The witch's tail had coiled around the wolf's neck, hoisting his massive body into the air like a noose. Then, with terrifying force, she slammed him into a rock.

 

"Guh—ahh…!"

 

"Nooo—Klaus!"

 

Bones cracked. Flesh tore. The sound was sickening.

 

The bare stone beneath the snow bloomed red, as if painted with blood.

 

Whether it was the influence of the blood moon or her own rising madness, the witch's tail grew stronger, more monstrous by the moment.

 

Despite having the body of a middle-aged woman, she swung Klaus's enormous form—several times her size—like a rag doll, slamming him again against the rock.

 

"Stop it—!"

 

If this kept up, Klaus would die. And if Lil bit off his own tongue now, it wouldn't change that. The witch would still finish Klaus off. Even if her evolution was halted, she'd wait for another strong descendant to be born and continue to threaten the people of Vallcent.

 

But more than anything—Lil could not forgive her for trying to kill Klaus.

 

As that future flashed across his mind, a terrible fury rose within him.

 

Heat surged through his body—burning, unfamiliar—gathering at the sides of his head and the base of his spine. It felt as though hot irons had been pressed to his skin.

 

"Ahh—aaaahhh!!"

 

His crimson cloak and hood whipped wildly as Lil arched backward, surrendering to that heat.

 

He cried out to the heavens—and in that instant, the chains binding his wrists and ankles snapped apart.

 

His blood-red eyes, now fully awakened, reflected the deep crimson moon above.

 

"The blood moon… The moment of awakening has come!" the witch cried with glee.

 

And she was right—Lil felt it in his bones. He didn't need a mirror to know what he had become.

 

Power flooded his limbs, a sense of liberation washing over him like he was being born anew. He had never truly felt oppressed before, yet now, the feeling of freedom was so vivid it nearly overwhelmed him.

 

And more than that—an intoxicating certainty in his own strength consumed him. For the first time, he believed in himself completely.

 

"Klaus!"

 

From the sides of his head sprouted two great goat-like horns. From his lower back, a tail—reptilian, sinuous—burst forth.

 

Lil shouted with all his might.

 

He had no time to consider how the tail had emerged—it didn't tear through his garments nor sprout from his waistband. Instead, it curved downward along his thigh, slipped beneath the hem of his short tunic, and in doing so, lifted the back of his clothes and undergarments, baring one side of his rear.

 

Yet when he moved it—it obeyed him perfectly. Almost unnervingly so.

 

He was no longer the helpless boy who could do nothing but cry and pray.

 

He could do something now. He could fight—for Klaus.

 

And thanks to the witch, he knew exactly how to use the tail.

 

All that remained was to act. Quickly. Without hesitation.

 

"Let Klaus go…!"

 

Extending the tail came easier than puffing out a cheek.

 

Like a third arm, more dexterous than either of his hands, Lil lashed it forward—straight for the witch's neck.

 

In response, the witch released Klaus and sent her own tail slithering to meet his.

 

The moment their tails met, an intense force snapped through the air—Lil nearly lost his footing from the sudden blow.

 

He was still bound at the ankles, unable to brace properly, but realizing this, he forced every ounce of strength into his legs.

 

Crack!

 

With a sharp, ringing snap, the shackles split. Though twisted metal still clung to his boots, it was enough. His legs could now move freely.

 

Planting his feet firmly in the snow, Lil funneled the power overflowing from within him into his tail—growing it longer, stronger, fiercer. If he lost this tug-of-war, the witch's tail would strike again, seize Klaus, and either slam him into the rocks or strangle him.

 

"Ugh—uuuuuh!"

 

"You foolish child, straining so hard! I'm not even using half my strength!" the witch laughed, scorn in her voice. "Give it up already. This doesn't suit you! You think you, freshly awakened, can match me? I've consumed my kin and stockpiled their magic. You have no chance!"

 

Her words, cruel and cutting, threatened to drain his strength.

 

She wasn't lying. No matter how hard he fought, she was stronger—he could feel it.

 

And yet Lil refused to give in. His gaze remained locked on the tip of the witch's tail, which continued to grow and snake through the air—reaching toward the fallen wolf on the rocks.

 

If he didn't intercept it, if he didn't twist its course by tangling it further, he would fail to protect Klaus.

 

"Enough already! You're persistent!"

 

"Ugh—nnnngh… Don't kill him… Please, don't kill Klaus!"

 

"Oh, so that's it!" the witch laughed with perverse delight. "Now it all makes sense! That beautiful foreign man you pined after—he was a sacred beast in disguise, wasn't he? Ahahaha! Truly, you are a fool, even for my grandson! If he had been a magic-infused Wolf King, perhaps you'd have stood a chance—but a sacred beast? No. Never. You are a succubus. A demon. He was born to destroy our kind. You live in different worlds!"

 

Between Lil and the witch, their two entangled tails rose like a tangled barrier of thorns.

 

Still, the witch's tail continued to stretch—reaching, creeping closer to Klaus. And Lil could no longer keep up.

 

His strength had limits. The effort to extend his tail further brought a wave of dizziness that made the world tilt.

 

"Oh, poor pitiful Lil!" the witch cried mockingly. "Hide your cursed eyes with a red hood all you like—humans will still shun you. Sacred beasts will spurn you. I am the only one who truly knows your worth! I alone seek you, love you! Become one with me—become my flesh and blood! Give me your power… let me sprout wings of darkness from this back!"

 

The moment she screamed those words, Lil felt himself begin to lose consciousness.

 

It became harder and harder to think, harder to keep his tail steady. He sagged forward, collapsing toward the ground.

 

If he let his tail withdraw, the witch's would move freely again—and Klaus would be in danger. He knew that. He knew. And yet no matter how much he wanted to protect him, to stop that from happening, his tail began to retract with a chilling hiss. His body simply couldn't hold on.

 

Even gazing up at the full moon, said to amplify magic, was now impossible—his head refused to lift.

 

And just as despair crept in—A voice rang out—firm, quiet, resolute.

 

"Don't decide for him... There's someone else who loves Lil."

 

It was Klaus.

 

The voice reached Lil's ears just as he was about to collapse.

 

Klaus, who always called him Liladry, now said simply: Lil.

 

With great effort, Lil lifted his face—and saw it: beneath the blood-stained moon, a streak of blue light shot across the snow.

 

"Gh—gah!"

 

The witch's triumphant expression twisted into horror as a gaping wolf's maw clamped around her head.

 

Klaus had leapt—through the cursed, thorn-wrought prison of their two succubus tails—and struck.

 

Just like the fearsome Wolf King from children's picture books, he bit down and devoured her.

 

The battle ended in an instant.

 

When the blood-soaked wolf landed on the snow, the witch's body had no head.

 

She had already lost one arm. Now the headless woman's body stumbled, searching blindly as blood gushed in a crimson fountain from her severed neck. Her tail went slack and began to rapidly shrink.

 

"Klaus!"

 

Lil, too, released the strength holding his tail taut. It retracted, and his dizziness began to subside.

 

He stepped toward the wolf—but the moment their eyes met, Klaus growled low and shook his head, as if to say don't come any closer.

 

"…Klaus?"

 

Lil faltered, momentarily afraid he'd been rejected—but that wasn't it.

 

Klaus turned his back to him, padded to a distance, and coughed up the witch's head and severed arm.

 

Then, with his broad forelegs, he scraped at the snow, breaking through to the frozen earth beneath. With calm, solemn movements, he dug a grave.

 

 

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