Blessed By A Yandere Goddess

"Everyone, move!"

The Third Prince's voice cut through the chaos. His knights scattered in groups of three, spreading across the frozen ground with practiced precision, ice blooming beneath their boots with every step.

"How did this even happen...?"

Hours had passed since the Frostlands had begun to twist into something else. The capital of Frostheim had survived, but the surrounding territories had been erased, replaced by an alien landscape that radiated wrongness.

As usual, he'd been sent to handle the area with the highest enemy concentration while the First Prince focused on locating any settlements that had been dragged into this nightmare alongside them.

"Three skitters incoming, my lord!"

The Third Prince unsheathed his blade and stepped forward without breaking stride. A single swing sent a wave of frost screaming across the ground, encasing the nearest skitter in a perfect shell of ice before it could even think to dodge.

"Disturbing..."

"My lord, we've spotted human contact in the distance."

"Humans?"

He followed the knight's gesture, his sharp eyes picking out two figures against the ruined landscape. One was a woman with a staff. The other was taller, broader, wrapped in dark armor that seemed to drink in the pale light.

The Third Prince's grip tightened on his sword.

"Ronan Night."

The name tasted strange on his tongue. He'd learned it from human broadcasts back in the royal palace, after the interportal networks had spread word of the Shadow Porter's return to the public eye.

"You know him, my lord?"

"Yeah."

A slow smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, not quite warm, but not hostile either. He couldn't afford to be that complacent towards someone he knew worked for the highest bidder.

"We move toward them. Stay in formation."

✧ ✦ ✧

Ronan saw the elves before Allysane finished her question.

They were moving in disciplined clusters, ice spreading beneath their boots in controlled patterns that kept the worst of the transformed terrain from slowing them down. The lead figure was taller than the rest, his armor unmistakably royal even at a distance.

"That's the Third Prince of Frostheim," Ronan said quietly. "I've worked with him before."

"Worked with him? You're full of surprises."

"Not as many as I'd like."

Allysane held her staff ready, but she didn't raise it. Her golden eyes swept over the approaching elves, assessing threats the way only an S-Rank could.

"Friends?"

"Allies, I guess."

Ronan stepped forward, leaving the cover of a nearby tree. The Third Prince's group halted about thirty meters out, the knights fanning into a defensive semicircle. The prince himself kept walking, one hand resting on his sword.

"I was starting to wonder where you ended up," he called out.

"Wish I could say I'm surprised to see you here," Ronan replied. "But after what happened to the Rift, I'm not surprised by much anymore."

The Third Prince let out a short, humorless laugh.

"You should be. The Frostlands looked like this when I woke up."

He gestured at the dead trees and ruined buildings.

"Everyone outside the capital vanished. The terrain is shifting every hour, and the system keeps sending us quests to clear sections of a gate that shouldn't even be."

"Tartarus-B."

"Yes."

There was no question in the way Ronan said it, and the prince didn't ask his relation to it.

"I'm guessing your people are surviving," Ronan said.

"Barely." The prince's expression darkened. "We lost three battalions before the knights adapted. Most of the regular soldiers don't have the stats to fight the creatures here."

He sighed, gaze drifting across the abandoned highway that likely led to another city.

"Where are you two heading?"

"To the exit."

"You know the exit?"

"That's not a question I'm confident I can answer factually."

The Third Prince laughed, running a hand through his hair. It was clear he'd been marching for a while now.

"I knew you'd say that. But who's this girl over here, and where's your wife?"

Ronan glanced at Allysane, then back at the prince.

"Allysane. S-Rank mage. We were clearing the Abyssal Rift together when everything went wrong."

"Charmed," Allysane said, not sounding charmed at all. Her eyes were still on the treeline, tracking movement that hadn't yet materialized into an attack.

"And your wife?" the prince pressed.

Ronan hesitated. "I'd like to say she's busy back on Earth, but honestly, I have no idea."

✧ ✦ ✧

"And here's the place he marked me as well."

Sarael tugged her collar down, showing the female journalist the bite mark Ronan had left on her shoulder. Hours had passed since the broadcast ended, but the station had moved her backstage, and the young woman interviewing her had been more than happy to keep the conversation going.

The journalist leaned in with her notepad pressed to her chest, cheeks faintly pink as she drank in every detail.

"You two are a very loving couple, huh?"

Her voice came out a little breathless, and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, clearly charmed despite herself.

"I'm so glad you agree!"

Sarael beamed, pleased by the reaction. Finally, someone who understood.

The journalist opened her mouth to ask another question, but her expression flickered as her fingers flew to the earpiece hidden beneath her hair. She bit her lower lip, brow furrowing in that way people did when they were being told something they didn't want to hear.

"I'm sorry, Miss Night, but something else has come up. Please take my business card. I'd like to continue this conversation later."

She stood, smoothing down her skirt with one hand, her movements quick but graceful. Sarael rose with her, tilting her head with a faint pout.

"What's going on?"

The journalist hesitated, chewing the inside of her cheek as she glanced toward the door. Then she leaned in slightly, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret between the two of them.

"There have been issues with world-class and country-class gates. I don't have all the information yet, Miss Night."

Sarael studied her for a moment, then nodded, letting the pretty little journalist scurry off to whatever emergency demanded her attention.

Once alone, Sarael stretched her arms over her head, sighing as she rolled the stiffness from her shoulders.

"Well, that was fun. Guess I'll go back to Ronan."

She reached for her shadows, already picturing the mansion's living room, and found nothing.

The darkness beneath her feet didn't answer.

[Notice: Bonded is currently in a special gate. Teleportation prohibited.]

[Must enter the portal itself in order to make contact with Bonded.]

"Hubby's currently hunting?"

She stared at the notification, then around the empty backstage room. Her earlier good mood began to curdle into the need to be clingy around him.

"Guess I'll ask around for portal locations I can visit..."

Her smile returned, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"Ronan, you'd better be safe. I'm coming."

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