NOVEL WEB Chapter 10: CHAPTER TEN.
"Death Knows My Name".
---
The night was too quiet.
The wind no longer sang through the trees — it whispered warnings. Even the moon, her only ally, hid behind thick clouds as if uncertain of what Aria was becoming.
She stood at the edge of the cliff, Cain's pendant glowing faintly against her chest, the cold air wrapping around her like armor.
Below, Nightbane flickered with torchlight. Their scent—arrogant, warm, unbothered—rose up to greet her.
They had no idea what was coming.
And they wouldn't, until it was too late.
---
Thorn stepped beside her. "Our scouts report their resources just arrived. Grain. Medicine. Weapons."
Aria didn't blink. "Burn it all."
He hesitated. "Aria—"
"Burn. It. All."
---
They moved before the sun touched the horizon.
The rogues — now warriors, sharpened and loyal — moved like shadows through the Nightbane border. They were ghosts with teeth. Wolves of the old ways. No mercy. No warning.
Aria moved in silence, her black cloak trailing behind her, her sword humming with anticipation.
Every breath she took was for Cain.
Every heartbeat… was a countdown.
---
The first guard didn't even see her.
One swipe. His throat opened. He dropped like a ragdoll.
No scream. No echo.
She dragged his body behind a tree and moved on.
---
The convoy was lined with crates — food, water, steel, fuel — all marked with Nightbane's crest.
Aria stood in front of it, eyes glowing like molten metal. Then she raised her hand, and the fire obeyed.
She didn't flinch as the flames devoured the supplies, licking high into the trees. The smell of burning grain and oil coated the sky.
It wasn't enough.
---
She turned to the second wave of rogues.
"Bring me the shifters."
---
The next few hours blurred into crimson.
Captured wolves — sentries, scouts, couriers — were dragged before her. Some begged. Some snarled. One spat in her face.
She slit his throat without blinking.
Another she carved slowly, peeling lies from his flesh.
Aria didn't enjoy it. But she didn't stop.
---
"Why are you doing this?" one whispered, sobbing.
Aria crouched beside him, her voice soft.
"They killed the only person who ever believed in me."
---
By dawn, five shifters were dead.
Three were left hanging from trees.
Two were skinned, displayed like warnings.
Nightbane would wake to a message written in blood:
"I remember. Do you?"
---
As the rogues retreated, Aria walked last, her boots dragging trails through the ash.
She didn't look back.
She didn't need to.
The screams and smoke would carry her message.
And it wasn't a threat.
It was a promise.
---
Later that night, she sat alone by the river — the same river she used to dream beside as a child, when she believed the moon would protect her.
Now, it watched her in silence.
She reached for the pendant again.
"Cain… I hope you see me."
Her reflection in the water was unfamiliar — wild hair, blood-stained cheeks, eyes that no longer belonged to a girl who loved stories or believed in hope.
This was not the Aria they cast out.
This was the Luna they feared.
---
Thorn approached again, slower this time.
"They're panicking. Nightbane doesn't know how to respond. Some of their allies are considering pulling out."
She nodded. "Good."
He shifted on his feet. "We could strike again tomorrow. Go for their outer camps."
Aria tilted her head. "No."
Thorn raised a brow. "Why not?"
"Because," she whispered, "I want them to suffer. Slowly."
---
She stood, eyes locked on the moon above.
"I'll take one limb at a time. One ally at a time. I want them to bleed — not just from the body…"
She turned to him, voice like ice.
"I want to carve fear into their bones."
---
Nightbane awoke to chaos.
The stench of smoke filled their lungs, and everywhere—ashes.
Their resources were gone.
Their soldiers missing.
Their pride? Shattered.
And carved across the bloodied front gate, with claws that could only belong to a beast of legend, were the words:
" I am the storm you created."
---
Inside the council hall, panic spread like infection.
"Who did this?" growled Elder Drax, slamming his fists on the table.
"They say it was… her," whispered a trembling scout. "The outcast."
A silence fell.
Seraphina stood at the head of the room, arms folded, lips pursed.
"She should've died," Drax said. "She was nothing."
Seraphina's eyes flicked to him, deadly calm.
"She was Cain's."
---
And with that, the council knew:
This wasn't about a rogue anymore.
This was war.
---
Meanwhile, Aria rode through the forest, wind whipping her cloak like a cape made of smoke.
The rogues cheered her name in whispers — not out of devotion, but fear-tinged awe.
They'd followed leaders before.
None like her.
---
They reached an abandoned tower by dusk — a long-forgotten outpost once used by the Moon Priestesses. Aria claimed it without a word.
Inside, she traced the runes on the walls with her fingers.
Ancient spells.
Old blood.
Moon magic.
Something about this place whispered secrets… and welcomed her home.
---
Later that night, a vision clawed into her dreams.
Cain — blood-soaked, kneeling in a field of fire.
She ran to him.
But every time she reached out, he vanished into smoke.
When she awoke, her cheeks were wet.
She hadn't cried in days.
---
But then… a whisper.
Not in her head.
In the room.
"Aria…"
She jumped to her feet, sword drawn, eyes glowing.
"Who's there?"
No one.
Just wind.
Until—
"Aria… come to me."
---
She followed the voice to the top floor of the tower.
The room was circular, moonlight filtering through a shattered glass ceiling.
And there, in the middle, lay a book.
Old. Bound in wolfhide. Locked with silver chains.
The moment she touched it, the chains unraveled.
The pages fluttered open.
---
It wasn't just a book.
It was a history.
Of Luna-blooded wolves.
Of prophecies.
Of curses.
And at the very end… her name.
Aria.
Scrawled in fresh ink.
As if the book had been waiting for her all along.
---
She stepped back.
The wind howled.
The moon blazed brighter.
And then her wolf—feral, ancient—spoke for the first time in days.
"She's not just afraid, Aria. She's preparing."
---
"Who?" Aria whispered.
The voice echoed.
"Seraphina. She knows your power now… and she's calling the gods."
---
The next day, scouts confirmed it:
Nightbane had sent envoys to the Old Temples — the forbidden ones.
Seraphina wasn't trying to defeat Aria with wolves anymore.
She was summoning divine intervention.
---
Aria stared out the tower window, teeth clenched.
She wasn't scared.
She was furious.
The gods had ignored her cries for years. Let her suffer. Let Cain die.
Now they'd come? To stop her?
Let them try.
---
She turned to Thorn. "Prepare the raids."
He blinked. "Tonight? After the book—?"
"Yes."
A slow smile curled on her lips.
"If Seraphina wants to play with gods…"
She tightened her grip on her sword.
"Then let's teach them what happens when you make a Luna bleed."
---
The moon was red that night — swollen and veined like it bled for her.
Aria led her rogues under it like a queen leading the damned.
This time, they weren't just raiding.
They were razing.
---
Pack Vineline had been warned not to trade with Nightbane.
They ignored the warning.
So now, Aria would make them regret it.
---
The first house fell with a scream and a crash.
The second — a blaze of silver fire.
Wolves scattered, shifting mid-run, howling for help.
Aria stalked through it all, blade soaked, eyes wild. Her wolf didn't howl.
It roared.
---
A female beta lunged at her.
Aria grabbed her mid-air by the throat and snapped her spine.
She didn't blink.
Two more wolves rushed her.
She impaled them both on the same sword.
No hesitation.
No mercy.
---
The screams reached Vineline's Luna by the time Aria lit the last granary.
Too late.
She stood at the edge of the hill, watching the flames rise.
Then she whispered:
"One down. How many more, Seraphina?"
---
Later that night, they regrouped near the ruins of an old hunter camp.
Aria sat alone on a rock, cleaning her blade with a rag soaked in blood.
Thorn approached, eyes wary.
"You were… different tonight."
She didn't look up. "I'm done playing nice."
---
That's when the spy moved.
One of the younger rogues — pale, quiet, always in the background.
He lunged with a silver dagger aimed at her throat.
But Aria had already seen it.
---
She caught his wrist mid-air, twisted until bone snapped, then slammed his face into the ground with a force that cracked his skull open.
He choked, twitching, coughing blood.
"You…" he rasped.
Aria crouched beside him, her voice deadly calm.
"Who sent you?"
---
He laughed. "You're a monster."
She shoved the dagger through his mouth and out the back of his skull.
"You're damn right."
---
The camp was silent.
Rogues stared.
She rose, covered in blood, and pointed to his corpse.
"This is what betrayal earns. If you can't bleed for me — leave now."
No one moved.
---
That night, as she burned the traitor's body, Aria whispered a vow into the flames:
"I'll bathe this land in blood before I ever bow again."
---
And the gods?
They were already watching.
Some whispered to Seraphina, promising her victory if she summoned them with a proper sacrifice.
Others… turned their eyes to Aria.
Curious.
Afraid.
One even murmured:
"She is the storm we feared."
---me
Back in the ruins of Vineline, survivors crawled from the ash, trembling.
Their Luna — scorched and broken — was dragged before Nightbane's council.
"She came," the woman sobbed. "She came like fire and shadow."
"Who?" Seraphina demanded.
"Aria…"
The Luna's voice broke.
"She's not a rogue anymore. She's death in a crown."
---
Seraphina turned to her generals.
"Prepare the summoning. Now."
---
But somewhere in the shadows of the wild…
Aria stood barefoot in a stream, washing the blood from her skin.
The moonlight kissed her scars.
She closed her eyes and whispered:
"I'm not done yet."