That Prince Is A Girl The Vicious King's Captive Slave Mate novel Chapter 350

Chapter 350
Blood burst from her lips, and a strangled cry tore from her throat. She doubled over, one hand clutching at her side, blood staining the front of her robes.

Daemonikai’s pulse thundered in his ears.

Slowly, he rose from his throne, and so did Ottai—but no one interrupted. Dead silence rang in the hall.

The Oracle straightened, shaking. Her pale eyes found Daemonikai’s.

“It was never young Alvin, but dark magic planted in his mind,” she said hoarsely. “Our people fell beneath the blades of humans, yes—but it was one of ours who brought them here.” Another sharp cry as she clutched at her chest, staggering. “One of ours stole the Chalice… so our people would be weak… defenseless,” she gasped.

Daemonikai could not breathe. Or perhaps he was breathing too fast. He was not certain.

His lungs burned as though deprived of air, but in his ears was the harsh rasp of his own breathing.

This is not real. This cannot be real.

They rang through his mind like a chant As he met Vladya’s eyes. Then Ottai’s. Then the stunned, pale faces of his people.

And then… the bleeding Oracle before them all.

The bleeding Oracle, who would not bleed if she spoke false. The bleeding Oracle, who never interfered, never crossed the boundary of her sacred oath. And yet, here she stood, willing to risk everything—her vows, her life—just to deliver a truth that did not seem real. But it was.

Outside, the commotion raged on. The sounds of combat carried faintly into the great hall. The clash of steel, the snarls of beasts, the shouts of men. The battle was not dying down, growing worse.

“I cannot go into details,” the Oracle panted, gripping her staff with a shaking hand, the wood slick with the blood that trailed from her fingertips. “Already… my life drains away, so I will use what little remains to give you the names of the ones responsible. The mastermind who betrayed his own kind.”

A loud bang! split the air, jolting everyone’s attention to the grand entrance.

The thick doors shuddered. The iron drawbars groaned as they shifted under the impact.

Another bang! followed, louder this time. The doors trembled again.

The third was a brutal, deafening crash! and it splintered the heavy wood, the planks of the barricade snapping and scattering across the floor.

“Who dares do this!?” Daemonikai roared. “Stop this at once!”

A beast stomped in through the broken doorway, snarling as it shifted. Bones cracked, muscle shrank, and a male stood in its place.

Somehow… Daemonikai already knew.

From the force of the commotion and the audacity to break into the event hall—even when ordered not to, somehow, he'd known it would be Zaiper.

“Do not believe the lies of that withered hag!” Zaiper barked stalking forward, fury blazing in his eyes.

“Zaiper, what is the meaning of this?” Vladya growled.

Daemonikai glanced at him. There was fear in Vladya’s eyes.

Not confusion, not outrage. Fear.

The same bone-deep fear he was sure was reflected in his own eyes.

Because the Oracle’s words were coming together. And they made sense.