Chapter 169 - Rest, Undead Queen

Claire Fortunatorum and the nobles who fought alongside her were able to hear the loud explosion northeast. They exchanged knowing glances, and then propelled themselves swiftly by using wind magic.

And then, that's when they saw how the undead queen's mark being melted by the acid rain... however!

"If you want to win," Claire exclaimed, running towards the undead queen as she mixed two proponents of elements: the mix of earth and water, and then strengthened by fire: a weapon that is as sharp as can be, with mixed intricate patterns of engraved spells glowing within it.

"You should aim for her jeweled heart!"

Claire swept her staff forward, evoking a magical chain—her mana materialized—wrapping into the undead queen. 

"Foolish!" The undead queen smirked, absorbing the mana— but then, "w-what?"

"Mana that is coated with binding magic." Claire then ambled her way to the queen calmly, holding the weapon she had created. She then stared at the undead queen.

"I will pray for your rest," Claire whispers.

Faustina blinked, reading her lips.

Claire then gently pierced the jeweled heart of the queen; and is it shattered, it revealed a projection of her life to all of them. 

The history of her jeweled heart.

"I have frozen my heart. There is no physical weapon that could destroy it..." The queen's tears began to resurface. "I am the one who rules the castle, and none shall defeat me..."

Claire turned away from the queen.

"Rest," she murmurs. "Undead queen."

**

The undead queen's real name was erased by the records because of her family's curse. It was widely believed that even uttering their name was a bad omen itself, so everyone had obliterated every evidence that concerned their existence to ashes. The undead queen's name was forgotten throughout history, and her beauty was nothing but a mere speck of a single sentence on a small part of a textbook.

She was wiped from existence, 

But her soul prevailed.

The undead queen's soul, along with her family, was shackled forever in the dark castle. It was their curse—a strong warlock had given them such chains that they could never escape darkness again.

An eternal hell.

"Why did you do this? We trusted you. I... trusted you. Why... are you... cursing us?"

'He' stared at the undead queen with a smile.

"You are void of emotions." He says, with his black hair being swept by the wind. "How are you capable of trust?"

**

The queen of the dark castle was a warlock princess born from a family of thirteen. And she was the thirteenth princess—a place that holds no value. Obviously, she cannot fight for the throne. There was no way the thirteenth princess could compete with the first prince. And so, knowing this—she used her charms and aimed high.

A warlock king from a newly established country overseas. He had several meetings with her. And shortly after, they got married. The marriage wasn't purely made from love, but more of a matter of personal interest instead.

There were already several warlock kings in Zweite, but HE was the youngest among all of them. His rise was also swift and his country was developing at a rapid pace. The thirteenth princess—who could conjure lightning and darkness—needed glory above anything else. Despite the rumors about the warlock king being a lecherous and deceitful man, she still accepted his proposal and became marked by him.

Soon, they were connected with an infernal bond—darkness that will always bind the other to another. It was the chains of darkness, an obscure mark that will not separate each of them. A warlock can mark multiple warlocks as he pleases, as long as the latter gives his or her consent to be marked. A warlock can also mark a normal human, but this can happen without his or her consent. 

This was why the king was a lecher.

Rumors were prevalent on how he had marked so many human women and had kicked them out afterward. The thirteenth princess didn't mind this. It was all for glory, after all. And he was the best candidate to be a husband.

And so, they got married. The thirteenth princess became a queen...

And a mother to twins.

Of course, this was the time her feelings bloomed. The king was caring as can be, and he had proven to ease her doubts about him by not displaying any of the things rumors claimed. He wasn't a lecher, and he only focused his attention on her.

The queen fell in love.

But she was short-sighted.

After their children grew into toddlers, the king gradually changed. He wasn't the same person that cared for her anymore. He began bringing women to his chambers and had done so many immoral deeds that the queen was forced to ignore the obnoxious juices lying on the sheets of the king's bed as she sobs into her own chambers. 

Even though they were bound into infernal matrimony, morality established by mortals was still engraved within the queen and anyone else in the castle. The king, however—was a person who had established himself with dignity and knowledge. He had given pieces of advice to his people and was considered wise. But the "morality" the queen was thinking about was not present. He was a lecher, and he did not hide his deeds to her.

In fact...

"You don't want to join us, my queen?"

It repulsed her so much. The disgusting infidelity he had conducted in the castle she and her children lived. Now everything will never be the same anymore. He had defiled everything she held dear. The love she felt was replaced with a bitter disgust.

But it was not completely gone.

When the night comes and the women rest, he would come back to her—so lovingly—he would mark her again. And the queen would give in. She was his', and she couldn't deny the fact that her whole body—and soul—craves for him more than he could ever imagine.

But then... just when things weren't worse for her,

SHE came.

The king had taken concubines and even short flings with the mortal noblewomen in the country, but never a girl like HER. 

"A maid? Are you serious, your majesty?" The queen asked in dreaded horror. "Why a maid! That's preposterous!"

He had taken a liking on a maid—to the point that he didn't take any other concubine anymore. He focused on her, and her alone. The queen was certain that this certain maid had stolen the king's heart.

She was a mortal woman, they said. The queen didn't see the maid herself, because she swore to the infernos she would be damned to even see the ends of the hairs of her king's concubines.

But she was special.

No one followed after her. The king never marked the queen anymore, after that. He never visited his children. He, on the night, would sneak to her.

She stole all his love.

When the queen finally had enough, she followed the king one night he had snuck from their bedroom. She stealthily concealed her presence using black magic, and then proceeded to follow the king—who went outside the castle, to the greenhouse—

And through the glass, the queen peered.

And listened.

"My king," the maid was beautiful. More beautiful and angelic than anyone else the queen had ever seen. She was a mortal, so she flowed with life. With mana, unlike the warlock queen who ran death to her veins.

She was beautiful. There was no other word to describe her.

"I missed you." The king said so lovingly as he embraced her tight. 

"What did you want to talk about today, my king?" The maid asked. "Is it about the queen?"

The queen blinked.

They were talking about her?

"Yes," the king answered.

The queen's heartbeat sped up. What could they be talking about? About her?

"Is your decision final?"

"Yes," the king said. "She easily gives in. I think it's about time."

About time...? For what?

The undead queen watched. Listened.

Saw.

The undead king's robes fell down, revealing his chiseled body. The maid started to strip as well, revealing the curves and her beautiful, untainted skin.

And her purity—

Oh. How pure was she?

The queen trembled as she watched. There were slight wrinkles in her due to her age, but that maid—she looked like an eternal youth—a beauty unrivaled. 

He kissed her. Caressed her body.

The way he never did to her.

Every touch was loving. The sound she made when he had touched her were all throes of pleasure—the pleasure of being loved. The king thrust in, and she let out a muffled scream. 

The queen fell to her knees as tears dripped to her cheeks. Her heart ached in pain as she cried and wailed like a child. She then stood up and ran.

And then, she found herself in the chambers of her children.

"Mother...?" The young princess woke, and then sauntered her way towards her crying mother.

"Mother queen..." The prince then helped his mother stand, and then helped her sit into the bed.

"Freeze my heart, my children." The queen says. "Enclose it to a jeweled cage. I no longer want to feel anything."

**

"I have frozen my heart. There is no physical weapon that could destroy it..." The queen's tears began to resurface. "I am the one who rules the castle, and none shall defeat me..."

Claire turned away from the queen.

"Rest," she murmurs. "Undead queen."