Fourteen months had passed since the war between the Eastern and Western Bang had begun,
and the battle had only grown more brutal with each passing day. Vasilisa, now a seasoned scout
in the Eastern army, had become known for her ruthless efficiency. She was appointed to the 7th
scout unit, a ragtag group of soldiers who, like many others, were now barely hanging on.
Originally, each scout unit had 65 soldiers, but now only 32—sometimes fewer—remained
standing. The toll of the war had been horrific, the casualties mounting daily.
But Vasilisa, through it all, stood tall, untouched by the horrors around her. Her reputation
spread like wildfire among the generals. She moved like a ghost, a phantom in the night, killing
silently, leaving no trace of her presence. In one day, she had wiped out three enemy scouts
without a sound, her movements so precise and lethal that it seemed as though she was simply
vanishing into thin air.
Yet despite her success, the war's brutality wore on. The Eastern general—impressed by her skill
and cunning—began to rely on her more and more. But now, something had shifted. A new
terror had emerged from the enemy ranks, a new force to contend with: the fifth son of Emperor
Radomir Volkov, the demon-born with superhuman strength.
The demon was unlike any foe Vasilisa had faced before. His power was immense, capable of
tearing through the army with a single swing. It wasn’t long before he decimated the remaining
scouts from the Eastern army, slaughtering them with terrifying ease. His very presence seemed
to cause fear to grip the hearts of all who saw him.
The Eastern general, desperate to rid his army of this insurmountable threat, offered an enormous
sum of gold for the demon’s head. But the demon wasn’t interested in gold. He was a force of
nature, a weapon forged by the very blood of the emperor himself. He had no need for riches.
The remaining scouts were either wounded, dead, or in full retreat. Vasilisa, trapped in the chaos
of battle, knew she had no choice but to lay low. But as the demon tore through the battlefield,
she realized she could no longer stay hidden. He had found her scent, and like a predator, he
stalked her through the carnage.
The battle was nothing like anything she had ever faced. She was forced to confront him, but the
fight seemed hopeless. Despite her cursed immortality—an ability to regenerate from even the
most brutal of wounds—she felt the crushing weight of defeat bearing down on her. She was torn
apart again and again, each death more excruciating than the last. But no matter how many times
she died, she kept coming back, her body knitting itself together, her spirit refusing to submit.
Her comrades fell around her, their screams echoing in her ears, but the demon was relentless.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
His massive fists crushed soldiers, his eyes burning with a savage hunger. Vasilisa, in her
immortality, had become a symbol of fearlessness. But in this moment, she felt the smallest
flicker of doubt—could she defeat him?
She had no choice. If she didn’t, this war would become her tomb. She would be swallowed
whole by the very thing she had been running from her entire life: fate.
She fought with everything she had left. Her body was torn apart, again and again, but each time
she returned stronger, more determined. Finally, in the chaos of their deadly dance, something
clicked inside her. In the final, brutal moments of the battle, as the demon came at her for the last
time, she knew this was her chance. She lunged forward, her weapon sinking deep into his flesh.
The demon, stunned by her relentless will, fell to the ground, his monstrous body crumpling with
a resounding thud. His last breath escaped him like the death rattle of a beast brought low by a
stronger force.
Vasilisa stood over him, her chest heaving with exhaustion. But there was something else—
something deep within her, pulling at her. As the demon’s body lay still before her, an
overwhelming hunger surged through her. She could feel it—an ancient, primal urge.
Without thinking, without hesitation, Vasilisa bent over the demon’s body. Her eyes locked on
his heart. She was drawn to it, as though it held some forbidden power, some essence that called
to her. The warmth of the blood, the pulsing rhythm of life that had once been his... It was too
much to resist.
With a guttural growl, she tore into his chest, ripping out his heart. The taste was intoxicating, an
explosion of power that flooded her senses. She devoured the heart, her body trembling with the
energy coursing through her veins. It was then that she understood—this was no ordinary
consumption. She had absorbed something more than just flesh. She had taken in his blessing,
his strength.
The power surged through her, overwhelming and intoxicating. She felt stronger than ever, her
body pulsing with the same superhuman strength that had once belonged to the demon. It was
her blessing now. She had claimed it.
The moment passed, and Vasilisa stood, victorious but trembling. The battlefield was silent now,
save for the distant cries of the wounded. She had survived, and more than that, she had gained
something she never thought possible. She was no longer the same. She had become a force of
nature herself.
As the sun set over the battlefield, Vasilisa knew one thing for certain: this was only the
beginning. The power she had just claimed would serve her. It would give her the strength she
needed to fulfill her vow.
She would get her revenge. She would bring the world to its knees.
And no one—no one—could stop her.