The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven Chapter 684: The Great War (IV)

At the very same moment, a new presence entered the battlefield. It did not announce itself with fanfare or shatter the chaos with brute force. Yet, those nearest felt an immediate shift—a sense of familiarity that didn't belong to the ongoing war.

Rosalie stepped onto the battlefield, her movement unhurried, yet nothing seemed to impede her progress. The surrounding chaos appeared to instinctively part around her. Her gaze was locked forward, resolute, as if everything else was rendered irrelevant. Then, her voice, carrying a significant weight, sliced through the din and the fighting. "Estella."

Estella froze. Her body stiffened for a fleeting instant before she slowly turned. For the first time since the conflict erupted, a flicker of unguarded shock crossed her features. "...Mother?" The word emerged softer than anything she had spoken that day.

The battlefield, while not fully halting, experienced a shift in tension as attention gravitated toward the two figures now facing each other. A wave of confusion washed over both Meredith and Draven as they witnessed the woman who was supposed to be at home, overcome with grief. "How did she—" Meredith started, her voice barely audible. Draven, on the other side, shared the curiosity, his gaze following his mother.

Rosalie advanced calmly, her eyes steady amidst the surrounding turmoil. "That’s enough," she stated. "End this." Estella regarded her, an unreadable emotion stirring beneath her surface. "You are alive."

"I am, daughter, so this war must cease now," Rosalie replied. A faint, almost disbelieving laugh escaped Estella as she slowly shook her head. "Do you even comprehend why I initiated this?"

"I do. You sought vengeance for me... for what I endured at Randall’s hands," Rosalie said gently. Estella’s expression faltered as a brief silence stretched between them. Then, Estella spoke, her tone becoming icier. "He is dead. My men discovered him beyond Stormveil’s boundaries and delivered him to me. I personally ended his life."

The declaration hung heavily in the air. Meredith’s eyes widened slightly, while Draven’s features hardened before settling into indifference. Rosalie closed her eyes for a moment, as if absorbing the impact, then reopened them. "Then it is concluded. There remains nothing further to fight for," she stated quietly. Estella’s gaze darkened. "No, it is not," she countered.

Her eyes flickered momentarily toward Meredith before returning to her mother. "This does not conclude until they are vanquished. Every single one of them," she added, her voice sharp and final. "Estella, I implore you, cease this," Rosalie urged, a warning tone now present. "Then, come with me," Estella proposed suddenly. "Leave this place and return home with me. That is my sole desire."

Rosalie’s expression softened briefly, but the change was momentary. "No. Stormveil is my home now," she declared. "I must reclaim and savor all that Randall deprived me of for years." Something within Estella seemed to fracture. Her face hardened, all gentleness vanishing instantaneously. "Then you leave me no alternative... mother." With a sharp turn, she commanded, "Continue the assault!"

---

The battlefield reignited the instant Estella’s command echoed, now imbued with a more personal ferocity. Vampires surged forward with heightened aggression, their movements sharper, more precise, fueled not just by orders but by raw fury. The human soldiers, already disarmed, fell one after another as the battle’s tide swept over them. Meanwhile, attention continued to converge on Meredith from every quarter. A defensive shield formed instinctively as the initial wave reached her.

Draven observed this, a desire to rush to her side surging, but Estella intercepted him. How could she not? "Do you believe this concludes with you?" Estella inquired, her voice laced with a darker edge as she advanced. "You are merely a complete waste of existence," Draven retorted, his tone unwavering as he forced her back a step. Her gaze intensified. In the next second, they clashed once more.

All of this unfolded before Rosalie’s eyes, her focus remaining fixed on Estella. Even as the war raged around her, as casualties mounted and power clashed, she refrained from intervening. A palpable hesitation lingered between the necessity of action and the inevitable cost. Her fingers curled slightly at her sides. Then, deliberately, she began to move.

---

The confrontation between Draven and Estella reached its apex. Their movements were too swift for most to track, their blows colliding repeatedly, neither gaining a significant advantage for long. Estella’s assaults grew increasingly sharp and desperate, her growing frustration becoming evident as Draven matched her at every turn. This, more than anything, ignited her deepest ire.

Just then, she pulled back for a moment, her eyes briefly glancing past him toward Meredith. Her intent had shifted, but she never got the chance to act on it.

Because in that precise second, her mother materialized behind her, appearing without warning but with absolute precision.

Rosalie's hand moved with lethal accuracy, striking the exact point needed, bringing an end to a conflict that had its roots long before this war ever commenced.

Estella's body froze. And the war ground to a halt.

For a fleeting moment, a profound silence descended upon the battlefield. Then, Estella stumbled. Her strength dissipated, her balance failing as she pitched forward, yet she never struck the ground.

Rosalie caught her with extreme care, as if she hadn't just delivered a fatal blow, as if she were cradling something incredibly delicate and cherished.

Meredith and Draven froze in place.

Around them, the ongoing battle faltered as the shockwave of this event rippled outwards. The vampires faltered in their assault, their movements becoming disjointed, their focus shattered as the gravity of what had just transpired began to sink in.

Estella's breathing grew faint and shallow. Her eyes, once so fierce and unyielding, softened as they drifted upward to meet Rosalie's gaze.

"...Mother..."

Rosalie embraced her daughter tighter as her own composure crumbled.

Tears now streamed down freely, moistening Estella's face as Rosalie desperately tried to cling to what was already slipping away.

"I'm here," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Estella's lips parted slightly, as if she yearned to utter more words. But no sound emerged.

Then, her body became completely still.

Rosalie remained motionless. She stayed there, holding her daughter, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably as the overwhelming weight of her loss finally crashed down upon her.

—

Around the silent battlefield, a hush had fallen.

The vampires began their withdrawal, their battle formation disintegrating, their objective now gone. Without Estella leading them, the war had lost its core, its command structure, its very reason for continuing.

Conversely, the werewolves held their ground, but no sounds of victory or celebration could be heard.

Draven remained rooted to his spot, his chest rising and falling steadily, his gaze intently fixed on the scene unfolding before him. Meredith approached, standing beside him, her presence exuding a calm yet profound solemnity, her eyes mirroring his somber understanding.

The war had concluded. They had achieved victory, but it came with a steep price and enduring consequences.

Further ahead, Rosalie was still kneeling on the ravaged battlefield, her arms encircling Estella's lifeless form, her grief raw and unrestrained, her quiet, uneven breaths punctuated by sobs.