Scarlett and Lyra lay in a peaceful corner of the training hall, fast asleep—covered in sweat, bruises, and healing potion stains after their brutal session with Julia.
Now it was Layla's turn.
She stood at the center, silently praying for mercy.
Julia smiled sweetly. Too sweet.
"Now, Layla… Let's begin your special training."
Layla barely got a word in before a blinding kick sent her crashing into the wall.
She groaned. "So it starts like this, huh?"
"Attack me," Julia said nonchalantly, arms crossed. "Come at me with everything."
Layla clenched her fists, summoning her cursed flames with a growl. Black and green tendrils flickered around her as she launched forward—only to be parried and slammed into the ground again.
And again.
And again.
Every time she tried something, Julia crushed it—knocking her into walls, flipping her midair, countering with such ease that it made Layla want to scream.
After the fifth attempt, Layla lay sprawled across the floor, twitching. Her curses flickered weakly.
Julia sighed in disappointment. "You're not strong enough."
She walked closer, her voice sharp and cool. "I thought you were special. But you don't know how to use weapons, you can't control your curse, and you're all bark with no bite."
Layla flinched.
"My son…" Julia continued coldly. "He's going to walk a dangerous path. He won't keep anyone by his side who can't fight for him."
Each word hit harder than any punch.
"You'll only slow him down. A hindrance. Dead weight."
Layla's breathing grew heavier, her hands shaking.
"If you're just talk, then I won't give you my son," Julia finished and turned away.
Silence.
Then—
"No."
A whisper. A deathly hiss.
Julia paused, turning her head slightly.
Layla (POV)
Something inside me snapped.
No. Not snapped—awakened.
A presence I had buried, restrained… for him.
But now, I couldn't hold it back.
I wouldn't.
"No."
I stood up, eyes glowing blackish green. My curse flared like a wildfire, my arms wrapped in writhing cursed flames. They hissed and twisted like snakes around me, hungry.
"Noah is mine."
BOOM!
"I won't let anyone take him from me."
In my palm, I gathered the cursed fire—focused it, shaped it. His voice echoed in my mind.
"A scythe would suit you."
The cursed flame obeyed. It coalesced into a monstrous, wicked-looking scythe—bladed, jagged, pulsing with murderous aura.
"I won't let you take him away from me!"
With a roar, I lunged.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Julia widened her eyes slightly, evading by a hair's breadth as the scythe scraped the floor, leaving burning marks.
Each swing echoed with wrath, each step a march of death.
This wasn't a girl in love—this was a reaper protecting what was hers.
"Well well…" Julia smirked, summoning a barrage of icicles mid-air. "That's more like my daughter-in-law."
The hall became a warzone. Cursed fire clashed against freezing spikes, black and green mixed with shimmering blue. Layla's movements were wild, unpredictable, furious. Julia even had to dodge seriously for once, her dress getting nicked by cursed flames.
"Impressive…" Julia whispered, panting slightly. "But—"
Layla screamed, her aura flaring too wildly. Her grip on sanity trembled, curse flames beginning to lash at the walls uncontrollably.
She was losing control.
Before the madness could consume her—
THUD.
Julia vanished in a blur and appeared behind her, striking the nape of her neck with a precise chop.
Layla crumpled into her arms, unconscious.
Her breath was calm now. Face peaceful. Cursed scythe fading.
Julia looked down at her, smiling fondly. "Well done, Layla."
She carried her gently like a child, brushing a lock of cursed hair behind her ear.
"No one will take him from you."
A small smile crept onto Layla's sleeping face—as if she'd heard her.
Julia chuckled. "Oh dear… you really are perfect for him."
To Be Continued…