The Invincible Full-Moon System Chapter 1907: Shadow Prince (1)

The arrival of death, which snatches the soul with icy hands, is unpredictable.

Yet, its presence is undeniable, even to an infant.

Kyran spewed blood, his gaze fixing on the Blood Moon. Its crimson light bore down like an indifferent weight, offering no solace or intervention, even as he faced the impending horde. The moon seemed to know his limitations.

It recognized his inadequacy for the task.

It understood the futility of his actions.

It saw him as merely a fool aspiring to heroic deeds.

To defend Dargena City? To protect Calidora and her unborn child? Kyran couldn't even safeguard himself.

At this moment, his body felt entirely desensitized.

The agony that had seared through his nerves moments before had subsided into a faint buzz, akin to the distant rumble of thunder receding beyond the horizon. Only his consciousness remained, embraced by death's frigid chill.

‘So this is the end. This is how I will perish.’

The thought permeated his being without resistance.

He observed the Blood Moon, and it returned his gaze, an unblinking stare.

‘I gave all I had. Everything. It still wasn’t enough.’

Having skirted death numerous times, he had often contemplated his eventual demise. He had anticipated a foolish end, feeling that recklessness and missteps were inescapable companions. This current fate felt no different.

Kyran had been fortunate once.

Now, his luck had expired.

‘I’ve committed so many errors. Caused so much strife. Been granted so many opportunities.’

Reflecting on his past blunders, mistakes that had endangered Rex and his companions, stemming from that single wrong choice with the crate, Kyran yearned to weep, but his body refused to obey. His physical form was now disconnected from his will.

Perhaps only his mind remained, sifting through memories before the final darkness.

‘Enough. It’s truly enough now.’

Kyran remembered Adhara valiantly holding back the formidable Godling.

He recalled Flunra’s stand against more than two-thirds of the crimson horde.

Their efforts had given the Clarentium Empire a fighting chance against this invasion.

His own duty was simpler: to halt a small segment of the crimson horde, less than a third of the total. Yet, he had failed even this. He, the second in command of the Silverstar Pack, ranking just below Adhara, was the most inept member.

‘After this failure, I forfeit any right to another chance. This death… I deserve it.’

Death loomed.

Despite possessing the Demon Origin Fragment, which had granted the Silverstar Pack multiple lives, Kyran sensed this would be his final breath. He was battling divine entities, beings from a dimension beyond his grasp.

What was a mere Demon Origin Fragment against the might of a God?

However, it no longer mattered.

Once oblivion claimed him, he could relinquish all burdens.

At least, if he encountered Rex again in the afterlife, he could truthfully say he had fought until the very end.

A silhouette obscured the crimson light—Maraka.

"Lord Kyran! Why did you do that?!" Maraka's eyes were wide with bewilderment and panic. He was still reeling from the recent events. Kyran had taken the brunt of an attack meant for him, though Kyran still suffered from charred wounds and bleeding from his neck. "Why did you take that attack for me?! You shouldn't—"

Before he could finish, a crimson wolf lunged, biting Maraka's shoulder.

With a roar, Maraka severed the beast's head with his katana and then began to drag Kyran away.

Kyran met Maraka’s gaze.

Maraka’s eyes still flickered with determination, scanning his surroundings, desperately seeking an escape route and a way to halt the crimson horde. He persisted, even as the protective wall crumbled, a mightier crimson wolf manifested, and their armies remained in disarray. He continued to fight.

Growl—!

A crimson blur unexpectedly struck Maraka from the side, sending him tumbling.

Unable to turn his head, Kyran had no clue what had occurred. However, a few moments later, Maraka reappeared, his body now even more grievously wounded. Standing directly above Kyran, he swung his katana in a relentless fury as wave after wave of crimson wolves attacked him.

He was shielding Kyran.

Even as a crimson wolf tore off his arm, Maraka used the protruding bone to viciously impale the creature.

‘Just stop…’ Kyran pleaded inwardly. ‘Let me die. Go, save the city. Save Calidora. I don’t deserve to be saved. Not anymore.’

Unable to bear witness any longer, Kyran drew a ragged breath, attempting to inhale, and shut his eyes.

The fate of the living was no longer his concern.

He was already gone.

The cacophony abruptly ceased, as if silenced by a vacuum. It seemed his sense of hearing had also deserted him. Yet, this silence felt strangely distinct. He could still perceive the wind. Kyran slowly opened his eyes, only to realize with stunned disbelief that he was standing once more.

Confused, he glanced down, expecting to see himself, but instead saw a body beneath him, and comprehended it was not his own.

No, it was his own, a memory from the past.

His physique remained thin and frail, easily broken, yet his arms and torso were covered in numerous scratches.

Merely a few steps away lay the severed heads of four Goblins.

Kyran instantaneously recognized this scene.

He raised his head, his gaze meeting a towering figure before him.

Rex stood there, an imposing presence, his shadow falling completely over and engulfing Kyran.

Back then, when he had first approached Rex, desperately pleading for a way to become an Awakened, his circumstances had been as dire as they were now. Supernaturals had annihilated his entire family, every last one. And yet, the Kyran of the past possessed an unwavering will to survive.

He had slain twice the required number of Goblins, carving his path to power through sheer tenacity.

As if this very realization had triggered something, his body began to expand.

He grew into his werewolf form, a form capable of crushing even the most resolute spirits.

But the crucial point was that he no longer remained within Rex’s shadow.

Upon completing his transformation, his head emerged from Rex’s shadow.

It was a clear indicator of his progress.

Back then, he had endured scratches and nearly perished at the hands of Goblins. Now, he confronted Godlings.

"Did I err?"

Kyran blinked, his wide eyes fixed on Rex ahead.

"Is this your limit?"

Although Rex’s voice was devoid of any overt emotion, Kyran couldn't help but perceive and hear the underlying disappointment. It was as if Rex had anticipated greater things from him, believing he would attain far more strength.

After all, why else would Rex have accepted him in the first place, if not for his potential?

"No..."

Kyran’s voice resonated with firmness, gradually morphing into a deep growl.

The surrounding environment, which had previously seemed empty, slowly reverted to its normal state.

Crimson wolves, the Maraka, the Blood Moon—everything flooded back into his perception simultaneously as his consciousness snapped back to reality. He clenched his sharp teeth, seething. He must have lost his senses for a moment. He had sworn an oath to fight until his final breath, and he hadn't drawn it yet!

A growl erupted from his throat as he seized a crimson wolf by its tail, halting its charge.

The creature turned and snarled, but Kyran had already begun to pull.

Swish—!

Just as the crimson wolf lunged, opting not to resist the pull but channeling all its effort to finish him, an ice spike simultaneously burst from the ground. The beast had no time to react as the frozen tip pierced its neck, snapping its spine.

Realizing Kyran’s resolve had not wavered, another crimson wolf lunged forward.

It clamped down on Kyran’s shoulder, dragging him with brutal force.

Blood flowed from his body, draining faster than he could regenerate.

Kyran felt a chilling drop in temperature but continued to fight back, striving with all his might to break free from the beast’s jaws. Even as consciousness threatened to leave him again, he kept his gaze fixed on the red eye above, as if it were his sworn nemesis.

His stare was a vow.

Even in death, he would claw his way back to the living world.

Even in death, he would ascend to the realm of the Gods and vanquish the deity behind the Blood Moon.

Abruptly, the temperature plummeted once more, unnaturally so, and it had no connection to the blood loss. The cold emanated from another source. Frost spread across his exposed wounds, encasing the still-bleeding gashes in crystalline white.

His mind reeled, but through the disorienting haze, he observed the Blood Moon’s light dimming.

It was as if another power was asserting dominance.

Yet, Kyran remained undeterred.

He persisted in his struggle to break free, continuing to fight for every breath.

He resolved to do anything within his power to prolong his life and continue the battle.

Death loomed, mere seconds away, and just as his time seemed to run out, a voice echoed in his mind.

’I perceive you. Do you desire the strength to overcome this onslaught?’

Kyran searched for the source of the voice but found nothing amidst the crimson blur of his surroundings.

His heart pounded weakly within his chest, acknowledging his imminent demise.

’Yes!’ he roared internally. ’Grant me the strength to annihilate my enemies!’

’Close your eyes.’

’Allow death to claim you.’

The world grew still as Kyran heard the final, labored beat of his frail, blood-deprived heart. With the dying embers of defiance still blazing within him, he lowered his eyelids, casting everything into a final, desperate gamble.

He caught a fleeting glimpse of the darkness that accompanied death.

He saw a glimpse of the abyss awaiting a fool’s end, the hollow silence of surrender.

But the frigidity of death and its encroaching darkness receded swiftly, as if repelled by his indomitable will to survive.

In the absolute blackness, a solitary, pale blue moon shattered the void.

And from its core, Rex emerged, extending a hand towards him.

He grasped the offered hand and held it tightly, being drawn back into the world of the living once more.

Kyran, the Alpha’s left-hand, the embodiment of Rex’s darker aspect—death held no dominion over him.