Chapter Ten: A Ghost's Jealousy
The group moved forward, deeper into the ruined city.
Crow led, calm and silent, his long coat billowing behind him in the ash-stained wind.
Lyravex clung to his arm, practically glowing with happiness, her violet eyes never leaving him.
Behind them, Seraphina followed.
Silent.
Still.
But not calm.
A thin mist curled around her blade, sharper than before, her steps heavier, less fluid.
The usually cold and composed ghost knight radiated a strange, heavy aura.
Crow noticed immediately.
"Seraphina," he said without turning, "what's wrong?"
The ghost knight flinched, a rare crack in her perfect composure.
She hesitated — then spoke, her voice low and brittle.
"...Master..." she said, almost a whisper. "I... I served you first."
Crow stopped walking.
Lyravex froze beside him, shrinking slightly under Seraphina's piercing, hollow gaze.
"You did," Crow said, nodding.
Seraphina stepped closer, mist swirling tightly around her, almost protective.
"I was your blade," she whispered. "I still am."
Crow's golden eyes narrowed slightly, studying her carefully.
Jealousy.
Not the petty, foolish kind.
It was deeper — territorial, possessive.
The loyalty of something that had been forged in death and devotion.
She wasn't angry at Lyravex.
She was scared.
Scared of being replaced.
Crow raised his hand calmly.
Seraphina froze instantly, eyes wide.
Without a word, he placed his hand atop her head and patted her slowly.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Six.
Seven.
Eight times — one more than Lyravex.
The mist around her calmed immediately.
Seraphina closed her eyes, trembling slightly, the heavy air around her softening.
"You are my blade," Crow said quietly. "You will always be my blade."
Seraphina pressed her forehead against his hand, her ghostly form quivering with relief and fierce joy.
Lyravex watched, her hands tightening slightly, but she didn't interrupt.
She understood.
Crow ruled not just with strength, but with care.
Every loyalty was earned.
And every loyalty was guarded.
He withdrew his hand slowly.
"Both of you," Crow said, voice like steel wrapped in velvet, "are mine."
Both girls nodded instantly, voices overlapping in desperate, devoted unison.
"Yes, Master!"
The ruins around them trembled, as if bowing to the one who commanded even the hearts of the dead and the living.
And Crow moved forward again, his army — and his throne — growing step by step.
Chapter Ten End