Chapter 81: Chaos in the hall
People screamed. The entire hall erupted into chaos.
Several nobles jumped to their feet. Others scrambled toward the exit. Children shrieked. Council members backed away, tripping over each other. A servant fainted on the spot. Plates and cups clattered across the floor.
The warriors stationed at the edges of the hall immediately drew their swords. Their blades rang loudly as they stepped between the crowd and the rapidly transforming bodies.
"Eirene!" Alaric shouted, but the voice that tore out of her throat was no longer hers.
He watched Eirene in horror as she let out a growl, part animal, part human. He had known her for years. They had shared the same bed. She had been loyal to the royal house for years. Seeing her body change so quickly sent a surge of disbelief through him.
Eirene’s mouth stretched unnaturally wide. Her skin darkened. Her eyes shrank into black slits. When she lifted her head, the sound she produced was a sharp, piercing shriek that forced several people to cover their ears.
In the panic, more Wanderers lunged at the nearest people. One ripped a warrior’s arm open. Another grabbed a noblewoman by the hair and dragged her across the floor, clawing at her stomach, pulling out her organs. Blood splattered on the walls and tiles. Screams overlapped with the sound of swords clashing.
Aveloria stepped backward quickly, but Eirene leaped toward her with a speed that was nothing like the frail woman she had been moments before. She reached out with elongated claws, aiming directly for Aveloria’s throat.
Theron reacted faster than anyone else. He lunged forward with his sword drawn and swung hard. The blade sliced clean through Eirene’s right wrist, severing it. Her right hand fell to the floor with a wet slap. Blood sprayed across the tiles and onto Theron’s cheek.
Eirene let out another shriek, louder this time, and stumbled back. Her bloody stumps twitched, dripping dark red lines down her arms.
Lucien and Galen rushed to Aveloria’s side. The three of them formed a protective circle around her. Lucien caught the spare sword Theron handed to him, his eyes wide with fury. Galen positioned himself in front of Aveloria’s body, ready to take any blow for her.
Trovald’s roar shook the hall. "Protect the royal house! Kill the traitors!"
Guards who had been frozen in shock snapped into action. They rushed toward the king, the prince, and the princesses, forming immediate shields around them. Others joined the warriors in fighting the Wanderers or grabbed civilians and pushed them toward the exits.
One guard was tackled by a Wanderer and torn open before he could even scream. Blood pooled under him. Another guard managed to stab a Wanderer in the chest, but the creature kept coming until two more guards cut it down.
Amid all the fighting, the hall became a crush of bodies. People trampled over each other trying to escape. A child screamed for her mother until someone dragged her toward the door. A nobleman shoved two servants aside to get ahead. An elder slipped on blood and fell beneath a stampede of panicked feet.
The air was filled with the stench of blood, rot, sweat, and the lingering foul scent of the powder.
Near the right side of the hall, several Wanderers surrounded Rowena. She backed against a wall, her breathing fast. Two guards lunged at her, but Wanderer lunged at them, clawing at their throats immediately. In that instant, Rowena ducked beneath them and ran. She kept her head down and squeezed between fleeing bodies until she slipped out through a side passage unnoticed.
On the main floor, more Wanderers kept emerging as the powder’s scent stirred reactions in anyone carrying dormant contamination. Some were killed mid-transformation. Others turned completely and attacked anything within reach. One leaped onto a table and jumped into a group of council members, tearing into them with its claws.
Eirene, still shrieking, charged at Theron. He blocked her with his sword, but she struck him with enough force to make him skid backward. Lucien immediately jumped in, stabbing her through the side. The wound bled heavily, but she didn’t fall. She grabbed the blade with her left hand, pulling herself closer, teeth snapping toward his face.
Theron regained his stance, sliced across her legs, sending her crashing to the ground. Even then, she still tried to crawl toward Aveloria, leaving long smears of blood behind her.
Warriors near the entrance were overwhelmed by the number of Wanderers pushing against them. One screamed as a Wanderer sank its teeth into his shoulder. Another warrior lost his footing and was dragged away into the crowd of creatures.
"Hold the line!" Trovald shouted. "Do not let them reach the royal house!"
But the line was thinning fast. Too many people were trying to escape at once. Too many bodies were being pushed aside. Too many Wanderers were emerging.
The hall was filled with the sound of tearing flesh, metal striking bone, people crying, guards shouting, and Wanderers snarling. Blood coated the floor so thickly that several people slipped on it while running.
Aveloria stood perfectly still in the center of the protective circle her mates formed. Her eyes were locked on Eirene, who twitched on the floor, still trying to drag herself forward.
Lucien kept scanning the room for new threats. Theron stood closest to Eirene, his blade raised for another strike if she made even the smallest move toward Aveloria.
Eirene’s voice came out distorted. "Aveloria...this is...not the...end." Blood bubbled from her mouth. Her body jerked violently one last time, and then she lay still, her eyes open but empty.
Around the hall, several Wanderers continued to fight. Others collapsed as warriors cut them down. A few managed to flee through broken windows smashed open in the chaos.
People who survived clung to walls or crouched under tables, trembling. Some held the hands of loved ones who lay lifeless beside them. Others crouched over bodies, sobbing.
The hall was a battlefield. Bodies lay everywhere—humans and Wanderers both. Blood splashed the pillars, streaked across the floor, and soaked into torn clothing. The smell of it was heavy and sickening.
The chaos still had not entirely ended, but most of the fighting had shifted toward the exits as guards tried to chase down the remaining creatures.
Aveloria finally exhaled, her hands shaking slightly, though she tried to hide it. She looked around the hall, taking in every detail—the bodies, the blood, and the people crying.
The hall was destroyed.
