My Family in the Novel?

Chapter 84: Ownership of the staff of Estelle 5

Darkness crept in, and everything and everywhere felt itchy and wet. A water droplet landed on Elowyn's face, and the foul smell of her surroundings added to her waking senses.

As she looked up, all she could see was a stone ceiling filled with cracks and spiderwebs. The air around her was thick with the stench of death, with rotting bodies lying nearby, and rats feasting on the gruesome scene.

She couldn't even remember how many days it had been since she was thrown into this prison.

Initially, she had been violently ill, vomiting from the shock of her confinement. However, as time passed, she grew accustomed to the wretched conditions. With tired, stressed eyes and a body that had lost its natural beauty, Elowyn sighed heavily.

"Haa..." With the sigh, she attempted to get up, or at least tried to. A sharp pain shot through her leg, and the realization struck her once again – she had lost one of her legs just yesterda.

"Haha... I should've realized it back then," Elowyn muttered, frustration evident in her voice as she punched the ground. A slight tremor occurred within her cell, causing rats and other creatures to scurry away.

Suddenly, footsteps echoed, approaching her in the dark, tunnel-like prison. Two silhouettes drew closer, and even from a distance, Elowyn could easily recognize them.

"It seems you're awake now, little princess," said her mother—or what appeared to be her mother, now knowing what kind of monster was using her mother's face.

"Shut the hell up! Stop using my mother's face, Kaksan!" Elowyn exclaimed.

Kaksan giggled. "Haha, my, my, language! Young princess, have I not taught you to speak elegantly and respectfully at all times?" she said, still in her mother's form, every detail matching from the voice to the face, and even the overall atmosphere.

The creepy demonic smile that formed in front of Elowyn was anything but her mother's—a smile that seemed to be covered in pitch-black darkness, stretching from ear to ear.

Elowyn shifted her gaze to the side, locking eyes with the man who had orchestrated her downfall. His pitch-black hair cascaded down his shoulders, and he was adorned in an opulent noble outfit. Two ominous, pitch-black horns protruded from his head, an unmistakable mark of his demonic nature.

Their eyes met, but there was no hint of remorse or empathy in the demon's blood-red gaze. To him, she was nothing more than an insignificant speck a bug he could crush anytime he wanted.

"What did you come here for?" Elowyn's voice wavered with a mix of defiance and dread.

"Here you go," said Kaksan, tossing something wrapped in cloth toward Elowyn.

"What is this?"

"Your food for the day," Kaksan replied casually. "We're quite short on rations, you see, and my new friends here are rather gluttonous. They only ever eat the purest ones, so we're quite short on manpower right now."

Elowyn shivered, understanding the horrifying implication: most of her people must have already fallen victim to the insatiable appetite of Kaksan's demonic allies.

As Elowyn unwrapped the cloth, a chilling horror spread through her, and goosebumps covered her entire body. She screamed, and in a desperate attempt to deny the gruesome reality, she clutched what was wrapped inside.

"Ahhhh! N-no-nooo! Iselia!"

It was her sister's lifeless head.

"HAHAHAHA!" Kaksan's laughter echoed through the dark, the sound filled with sadistic pleasure. She relished in every ounce of torment and pain that Elowyn experienced.

'Ah! This is it, cry more, regret more, hate me more HAHAHA!'

Suddenly, Elowyn was greeted by the comforting tones of a familiar, adorable voice.

"Don't worry, princess. After everything is done and you've served your purpose, you'll be joining them soon, okay?" Kaksan reassured in a sweet, endearing voice. Her words hung in the air, offering a strange mix of reassurance and ambiguity.

As she spoke, Kaksan's Alluring sexy figure underwent a peculiar transformation. With a delicate lick of her small lips, she shifted seamlessly, her form morphing into that of her sister.

Suddenly, a surge of mana enveloped Elowyn's form, a shimmering energy that betrayed her attempt to cast a spell.

Yet, before the incantation could manifest, a jolt of electricity coursed through her, sending shocks of pain reverberating through her body.

Chains, firmly binding her arms and feet to the unforgiving combination of ground and wall, seemed to tighten with each electric surge.

Undeterred by the searing agony, she steeled herself to try once more, determined to break free from the magical restraints.

"AHHHH!"

Frustration and desperation etched across her face, Elowyn unleashed a primal scream as she strained against her bindings, a manifestation of the roiling anger within her.

Her every attempt to retaliate met the same cruel fate, thwarted by unseen forces that seemed to relish in her suffering.

With a frenzied gaze fixed on Kaksan, Elowyn's eyes burned with a deep-seated hatred and animosity. Every fiber of her being screamed for revenge against the monstrous figure before her.

The intensity of her emotions manifested in tears that mingled with the pain, forming rivulets down her dirt-streaked face.

Elowyn, determined and desperate, strained against the magical chains that bound her. Every futile attempt only tightened the enchanted restraints, the pain amplification magic etched into the links turning each twist of her body into a symphony of suffering. The excruciating pain became an overwhelming force, threatening to shatter Elowyn's resolve.

She tried every spell in her repertoire, summoned every ounce of strength within her, but nothing worked. The chains seemed to mock her efforts, their unyielding grip a testament to her vulnerability.

As the pain intensified, Elowyn found herself on the brink of tears, not just from the physical torment but from the overwhelming sense of helplessness that engulfed her.

In her cries, there was a lament for her own weakness, a realization of the stark truth that she had always been at her most vulnerable without her mother.

'Why is this thing still alive?'

Elowyn couldn't shake the haunting memories of the recent battle with Kaksan, a conflict she believed had concluded with the defeat of the monstrous threat.

Little did she anticipate that the very creature they thought they had vanquished was now lurking beneath their own roofs.

'Everybody is truly gone now huh?'

In the desolate aftermath, the stark reality of loss engulfed Elowyn like an unrelenting tide. Her mother, her sister, her people, and even the once-bonded spirit—all gone, leaving a void in her world that seemed insurmountable.

The weight of grief pressed heavily upon her, a burden carried in the deepest recesses of her heart.

Driven to the brink of despair, Elowyn's anguish manifested in a desperate attempt to escape the torment that now defined her existence.

Clenching her teeth, she sought a way to end the suffering by biting off her own tongue, a desperate plea for release from the unrelenting pain.

Yet, even in her darkest moment, her body defied her will, an unseen force preventing the act of self-destruction.

The absolute command enforced by the demonic presence at Kaksan's side held her in an unyielding grip.

The Celestial magic "Absolut Befehl", intertwined with the darkness that now permeated her life, compelled her to abide by a single, haunting directive: "Live"

Elowyn cried as she wished her torment to end.

...

"Your Majesty," Xaldrak spoke with deference, bowing slightly as he addressed Kaksan, who seemed preoccupied with Elowyn's despair.

"What is it, Xaldrak? I'm kinda busy here," Kaksan responded in her cute voice, a hint of amusement tainting her tone as she observed Elowyn's anguish.

"My subordinates have returned; they say they have caught something that might pique your interest," Xaldrak informed her, his expression revealing a subtle anticipation.

"Pique my interest? I thought they just went ahead on their own to hunt some random elves that escaped?" Kaksan questioned with mild curiosity.

"No, Your Majesty. The two of them detected a huge mana disturbance a few kilometers away from here. It looks like a powerful being has entered the forest," Xaldrak explained, his tone conveying a sense of significance.

"Powerful, eh? But that powerful thing got beat by those weak-ass subordinates of yours?" Kaksan remarked with a playful smirk, seemingly unimpressed.

Xaldrak chose to remain silent, acknowledging Kaksan's words without protest. While her remarks might appear insulting, they held an underlying truth.

Compared to Kaksan, the two subordinates were little more than expendable pawns, and even if Xaldrak were to compare himself to Kaksan, he harbored doubts about his own chances in a confrontation with the being in front of him he probably wouldn't even last a minute in an actual fight even without him holding back.

Despite his pride as a high-ranking demon, Xaldrak recognized the importance of pragmatism over ego, understanding that underestimating the capabilities of others could prove perilous in any battle.

"Oh, she broke again?" Kaksan expressed disappointment, casting a disapproving glance at Elowyn as she moved out of the cell.

"Let's go back... oh, and heal her."

"As you wish, your majesty" Xaldrak responded with deference.

Two goat demons emerged from his shadow, their presence manifesting as they began the process of mending Elowyn's battered form.

Amidst the ethereal dark glow of the demonic healing magic, behind them Kaksan couldn't resist a playful comment.

"Ah, that was really fun. The way you make faces even rivals mine, Xaldrak. I knew helping you guys out that time was worth it, haha."

With a mischievous twirl, she manipulated the fake heads of Iselia, the grotesque prop she had used to deceive Elowyn into thinking her sister was already dead.

It was a cunning strategy, exploiting the depth of the emotional bond between the sisters to maximize the pain and anguish Elowyn experienced. For Kaksan, the spectacle of suffering was a form of perverse entertainment.

As they continued their departure from the prison dungeon, Kaksan effortlessly shifted back into Elaniel's form.

Her once childlike elven physique transformed into one that was mature, seductive, and undeniably beautiful. The dark, clinging clothes accentuated every curve, adding to her allure. Even Xaldrak, a high-ranking demon not easily swayed, found himself momentarily captivated by her enchanting presence.

However, the ephemeral fascination abruptly ended as darkness enveloped Xaldrak's vision. It was as if a void had swallowed the world around him. Startled, he heard Kaksan's voice cutting through the obsidian shroud, a warning that echoed with a chilling authority.

"I told you, didn't I? Only Father is allowed to look at me with those eyes."

Bowing his head in submission, Xaldrak uttered a sincere apology, "Please do forgive me for my rudeness, your majesty, for your form was too beautiful to ignore."

A faint amusement laced Kaksan's tone as she responded, "Is that so? While you can appreciate my looks, remember, if I ever sense even the slightest hint of lust again, it won't be your eyes that will be gone next time. Understood?"

"Yes, your majesty," Xaldrak affirmed, his head still bowed. As he continued to submit to her authority, his cut-up eyes began the slow process of regeneration. It perplexed him — the baffling ability of the being in front of him to impede the high regenerative capabilities inherent to a demon of his rank.

"So where are your subordinates?" Elaniel inquired, her voice carrying a sense of casual authority. As she stretched her back, a moment of weariness crept into her demeanor.

The weight of responsibility pressed upon her, knowing that, once again, she would resume the role of Iselia's guardian. The poor child, oblivious to the reality unfolding around her, remained blissfully unaware that the beings surrounding her in Faerilight were, in fact, demons.

"They're waiting for us in the throne room" replied Xaldrak, his tone respectful.

"Then let's hurry up. Iselia is about to wake up,"

'When can I devour that child? Haah… if only I know what sort of relationship she has with father'

'And can you please shut up! Or I'll devour you as well' Kaksan said annoyingly at Elaniel who kept screaming at her, with her annoyance hitting through the roof she forcefully forced her to sleep.

…..

The journey to the throne room was swift, and upon their arrival, both Elaniel and Xaldrak were met with an unexpected sight, though their reactions diverged for entirely different reasons.

Xaldrak, as his eyes fell upon the captive being, was taken aback by the sheer beauty that emanated from her form.

A high-ranking spirit captured and in humanoid form at that, her allure was mesmerizing. Her ethereal beauty seemed almost at odds with the darkness that shrouded her, and Xaldrak found himself captivated by the rarity of such a being being brought into their realm.

For Kaksan the recognition of the spirit stirred a different set of emotions. The woman with green hair reminiscent of the lush forest and eyes like exquisite emeralds was someone Elaniel knew well.

The state in which the two demons had brought her in, bloodied and ensnared in chains of pure darkness, didn't sit well with Elaniel. She could feel the tendrils of unease curling within her, a reaction to the mistreatment of a being she held some connection to.

The captive spirit, despite the evident brutality inflicted upon her, clung to life. Her battered form bore the scars of mistreatment, yet there was a flicker of resilience in her eyes that spoke of an unbroken spirit.

"She's quite the good catch right, your majest—"

Daphiel's words were abruptly cut short, her head dropping to the ground before she could finish her sentence.

"Daphie—!" The plea remained incomplete as the second demon met a similar end.

Xaldrak, standing in stunned silence, was taken aback by the sudden and ruthless demise of the two demons. Before he could comprehend the unfolding horror, Elaniel's command sliced through the air.

"Your majesty?"

Black, ominous tentacles, reminiscent of a death god's scythe, protruded from Elaniel's back. Blood-red eyes locked onto Xaldrak, their intensity sending shivers down his demonic spine.

The once-familiar tone of Elaniel's voice now held an undercurrent of darkness, a depth he had never encountered before.

The commanding presence, normally a force to be respected, now bore an edge that surpassed anything he had experienced, even compared to the chilling fear instilled by the demon king.

"Heal her now" Elaniel commanded, her words piercing through the air like shards of ice. The urgency and gravity in her tone demanded immediate compliance.