Beast Hack: Customizing Beasts and Capturing Beauties - Chapter 411

Chapter 411: The Castle That Declared War
Raiven strode directly into his father’s room.

“Father,” he said, holding out a datapad.

“You need to see this stream.”

“It’s spreading across all inner noble channels.”

Vandred looked up from the armrest of his throne, a half-finished training spear resting across his lap.

His deep crimson eyes narrowed. “Stream?”

Raiven handed it over.

“Fiona Flares. Luxoria’s streamer.”

“She was with Liora Luxoria in Aurelius territory.”

“There was a battle—Flareguls, an Aurelius enforcer, and then… she made a declaration.”

Vandred tapped the screen once and it flickered to life.

A live replay began to scroll: Flaregul units diving, Liora engaging, and Leon’s suit transformation.

Dargan’s fusion with Gravernox and the battlefield shifting into molten chaos.

Then came the moment.

Liora standing over Dargan.

“Luxoria officially declares war on the Aurelius family.”

A long silence.

Then Vandred… laughed.

Not softly. Not mockingly.

It was full, gruff, and resonant. A heavy, amused thunder.

“Hah… hahahahaha!”

He leaned forward, watching as Dargan was obliterated and Liora declared war.

“To think,” Vandred said, grinning now.

“That this entire time there was such a buried history between Luxoria and Aurelius.”

Raiven kept his arms folded, gaze serious.

“We always thought they were silent builders. Remote. Methodical.”

“But this? This is blood-forged retaliation.”

Vandred’s grin didn’t fade. “It’s better than that. It’s personal.”

Raiven nodded. “So what do we do now?”

Vandred’s eyes gleamed. “For now?”

He stood slowly, cracking his shoulders.

“Nothing.”

Raiven raised an eyebrow. “You don’t want to act?”

“No,” Vandred said. “We watch.”

He stepped toward the massive war-window that overlooked the southern front of their stronghold.

“This is the moment,” he said.

“Where we see whether Luxoria is just a castle of echoes… or the next giant.”

Raiven’s brow furrowed. “You think they could be?”

“I’ve fought Aurelius,” Vandred said.

“I’ve seen Hadrian’s monsters. I’ve faced Theron’s vault units. You don’t survive that without cost.”

He gestured toward the screen, where Liora’s calm stance remained frozen in replay.

“But that girl. That was no survivor.”

Raiven tilted his head. “Then what was she?”

“A general,” Vandred said.

“Not the type that commands from behind walls.”

“One that walks into enemy land and delivers judgment firsthand.”

He exhaled slowly, then picked up the heavy black shield.

“I’ve seen many wars, Raiven.”

“Family grudges, border disputes, resource skirmishes.”

“They all start with shouting and end with broken beasts.”

He ran one calloused hand across the engraved edges of the shield.

“But this…”

He smirked.

“This feels different.”

Raiven’s gaze sharpened. “You’re enjoying this.”

“I’m watching the beginning of something real,” Vandred replied.

“Not posturing. Not petty. Just raw vengeance dressed in discipline.”

Raiven folded his arms, nodding slowly.

Vandred raised the shield slightly, resting it against his shoulder.

“Now we observe. Closely.”

“I want to see who survives. Who breaks. Who burns.”

He turned toward Raiven, a rare glint of anticipation flickering in his crimson eyes.

“I want to see who rises as the true giant between Luxoria and Aurelius.”

Raiven gave a small smile. “And if neither falls?”

Vandred chuckled. “Then the world might not be ready for what comes next.”

He lowered the shield and looked back to the darkened screen.

“But one thing is certain.”

He leaned back into his throne, the room humming with quiet tension.

“I can’t wait to see who wins—and who gets buried trying.”

—

In the heart of the Myralis Grove, high above the canopy, Elaris Myralis stepped inside hurriedly.

Her eyes shimmered with a mixture of disbelief and exhilaration.

In her hand, a beast-glass tablet flickered with a paused replay of the stream.

“Mother,” Elaris called.

Sylvaine Myralis turned slowly from the edge of the petal-arch balcony.

Draped in her emerald cloak woven from living vines, she raised an eyebrow with her usual quiet elegance.

“Elaris,” Sylvaine said calmly. “You’re breathless.”

Elaris stepped forward, holding up the tablet. “You need to see this.”

Sylvaine gave a gentle nod and walked toward the blossom-carved dais.

She took the device delicately and glanced down.

She watched without speaking as Liora Luxoria defeated a fused Aurelius enforcer.

She saw her declare war with the calm of someone swatting an insect.

Elaris bit her lip.

“It’s not fake. Fiona Flares streamed the whole thing.”

“The signal came from within Aurelius territory.”

Sylvaine remained still, only her fingers shifting slightly on the edge of the tablet.

Elaris continued.

“She didn’t just fight a beast. She fought a fused Sovereign-tier.”

“And she didn’t struggle. She warned him before killing him.”

“I see,” Sylvaine murmured.

Elaris leaned forward.

“She declared war on Aurelius. In public. On record. She didn’t even try to hide it.”

Sylvaine looked up. “And you believe this is wise?”

Elaris hesitated.

“I think it’s… dangerous. Bold. Brilliant. Maybe foolish. But I respect it.”

Sylvaine exhaled through her nose.

“Respect does not keep one alive, daughter.”

“Neither does silence,” Elaris countered.

Sylvaine handed the tablet back.

“So this is where we are.”

“Luxoria stepping into the light. And making an enemy of Aurelius.”

Elaris nodded. “Yes. Boldly.”

Sylvaine walked to the edge of the balcony again, watching the flowering horizon sway with the wind.

“Luxoria has always remained quiet.”

“Now they erupt with fire and blood, declaring war through a child in silver armor.”

“She’s no child,” Elaris said. “She’s a blade. Forged.”

Sylvaine turned slightly, curious. “Do you admire her?”

Elaris paused. “Yes. I do. She fights for family. For vengeance. Not for pride.”

Sylvaine studied her daughter. “And what would you do, if our family were next?”

Elaris straightened. “I would stand beside you.”

Sylvaine smiled faintly. “A wise answer. For now.”

Elaris hesitated.

“You’ve seen many conflicts, Mother. What do you think this becomes?”

Sylvaine stepped forward, brushing a single finger against the living wall.

“This becomes a war of memory,” she said.

“Luxoria remembers its pain. Aurelius remembers its pride.”

“And the world will remember which of them survives.”

Elaris lowered her gaze. “Should we… choose a side?”

Sylvaine shook her head.

“We are Myralis. We are nature. We endure storms. We do not leap into them.”

She placed a hand gently on her daughter’s shoulder.

“But should the storm reach our grove… we will bloom in blood if we must.”

Elaris smiled faintly. “So we watch.”

“For now,” Sylvaine agreed.

“But keep your eyes on Luxoria. And the girl in silver. I fear they are not just warriors.”

“What are they?”

Sylvaine turned back to the wind.

“Proof that even ruins can grow new kingdoms.”