I won't fall for the queen who burned my world-Chapter 286: What’s left behind

Elysia’s boots crunched against loose stone and smoldering ash as they stepped out of the throne room.

The silence was heavier than it should have been. No war cries. No spells detonating. No blood in the air. Just a castle full of echoing ghosts and a sky dimming slowly into twilight.

She exhaled deeply, feeling her fire recede from beneath her skin slowly, reluctantly, like a creature too alert to sleep. Her muscles ached. Her throat was raw from shouting and smoke. But she was alive. So were the others.

And Lucindra was gone.

For good.

The realization should have felt triumphant.

But it didn’t. freewebnσvel.cøm

Malvoria walked beside her in silence, her face unreadable. The queen’s usual stride brimming with defiant purpose was tempered now, slow and deliberate.

Behind them, Lara joked half-heartedly about needing a week-long nap, while Raveth muttered something about castle security being "the worst damn joke she’d ever seen."

Veylira followed at the rear, quiet as stone.

They passed a long hallway where fires still smoldered in the tapestries. One of the palace guards lay unconscious in the corner, pulse steady, eyes closed. Controlled, but not broken. Not dead.

Elysia paused to check his breathing anyway.

"Alive," she murmured.

"Good," Malvoria said beside her.

They kept walking.

As they passed through the grand courtyard—what was left of it—Elysia stopped. Her gaze drifted back toward the ruined throne room, now a distant silhouette framed by smoke and fractured columns.

Lucindra had been evil.

Manipulative. Cruel. Unforgivable.

But she had also been Malvoria’s mother.

And Lara’s.

And at one point, Elysia supposed, she had been something like a person.

"Do you think it was ever real?" she asked softly.

Malvoria didn’t answer right away. She stared ahead, eyes narrowed against the dusk.

"I don’t know," she said at last.

They resumed walking.

Elysia hesitated, then glanced toward Veylira. The older woman’s steps had slowed slightly, her fingers brushing along the wall as if checking the castle’s pulse.

"She died so violently," Elysia said finally. "And still... I didn’t feel joy."

Veylira looked up, her gaze sharp but not unkind. "That’s because you still have a soul."

Elysia blinked.

"I just thought I would feel more resolved," she said.

"She wasn’t resolved, even at the end," Veylira replied. "She was unraveling. You met the last pieces of her, and they weren’t enough to hate or mourn. They were... fragments."

There was a pause. The group had slowed slightly as if everyone sensed the weight of the conversation.

Then Veylira continued. "When a demon taps into a forbidden core like she did, they become incredibly powerful—but it comes at a cost. Their life force burns faster than the magic. In that final form, she might’ve had hours left. Maybe less."

Elysia’s breath caught.

"So she was already dying?"

Veylira nodded. "She knew it."

They walked in silence after that.

No one offered comfort, not the kind you could speak aloud. But the presence of family, of allies still walking the same scorched path, was comfort enough.

When they reached the inner wall, Lara was the first to break the quiet.

"Well," she said, gesturing toward the devastation around them, "we really know how to redecorate."

Raveth snorted. "You call this redecoration?"

"Sure. A bit of ash here, a few broken doors there very rustic. Very post-coup-chic."

Elysia smiled faintly.

They stepped into the barracks wing next, where a few demon soldiers,uncontrolled now were slowly waking from whatever enchantment Lucindra had cast over them. One stood, dazed, rubbing the side of his head.

"Captain?" he said when he saw Malvoria.

Malvoria turned to him. "You were under magical control. Don’t try to move too fast."

He blinked, then dropped to one knee. "I—I’m sorry. I didn’t know—"

"You don’t have to apologize," she said, cutting him off gently. "None of this was your fault. Help the others. Make sure the wounded are seen to. We’re leaving the castle under lockdown until further notice."

The soldier nodded, rising shakily to his feet.

More guards stirred as they passed, and Elysia couldn’t help but notice how many of them looked afraid.

Not of Malvoria but of themselves. Of what they might’ve done under Lucindra’s influence.

She stopped briefly to help a young soldier who couldn’t rise.

His hand trembled as he gripped hers.

"I didn’t want to," he whispered.

"I know," she said softly. "You’re safe now."

He nodded, tears tracking down his soot-streaked cheeks.

They crossed through the corridor that led to the teleportation wing once reserved for noble visitors and foreign dignitaries. Now it was cracked and quiet, the torches flickering low in their sconces.

Elysia looked around as they walked really looked.

So many memories had been made here, though most weren’t hers.

This had been Malvoria’s home once. Her childhood fortress. Her battlefield.

And now it was nothing but a ruin of blood and betrayal.

At the far end, the teleportation circle glowed weakly its runes dim but intact.

Malvoria stopped before it, staring down at the shimmering lines etched into the stone.

Veylira moved beside her, laying a hand gently on her daughter’s shoulder.

"You held the line," she said. "You protected what mattered."

Malvoria didn’t speak. Her jaw tightened slightly. Elysia could see the war still waging behind her eyes the loss of what might have been, the weight of what had to be done.

Lara stepped onto the circle first. "I’m ready to get out of this haunted wreck."

"Seconded," Raveth said.

Elysia took Malvoria’s hand.

"Kaelith’s waiting," she whispered.

That did it.

Malvoria stepped forward, the firelight catching her eyes.

She turned back one last time to look at the palace her home, her battleground, her graveyard.

Then she stepped into the circle.

Together, as one, they vanished in a rush of light carried toward the only place left untouched by war.

The light faded, and warm air embraced them.

They arrived in Saelira’s estate safe, whole, and ash-streaked. The scent of flowers drifted on the breeze, a stark contrast to the blood and fire they’d left behind.

And then, a squeal.

Kaelith.

She was in Saelira’s arms, tiny fists waving, grey eyes wide. The moment she saw them, she wriggled, mouth forming a soft "ah" as if she knew.

Malvoria rushed forward and took her daughter into her arms, holding her close, chest heaving.

Elysia leaned against her, touching Kaelith’s cheek.