Hades' Cursed Luna novel Chapter 521

Chapter 521: Four Hours

04:01:43 (Four hours until the end)

Above Ironwall

Hades’ wings wove through the air, every energized snap propelling him closer to his destination. The headache had finally relented — a welcome mercy — but flashes of memory still struck him without warning, jagged and intrusive.

The blood had been the answer, and with so many willing to give theirs, the healing had progressed faster than even the Deltas theorized.

The moment the pressure on his skull eased, everything began to return — first in trickles, then in a flood that drowned him in images, conversations, events, and fragmented timelines.

Along with his memory of Eve and her condition, their past life came roaring back. His past existence struck with a clarity it had never held before.

It had not always been so vivid. It used to feel like watching through fogged glass — but it seemed the brain damage and subsequent repairs had pulled every suppressed piece to the surface.

Hades clenched his jaw, smothering the overwhelming instinct to abandon his mission entirely and fly straight back to Dawnstrike. To see Eve. To beg on his knees for even daring to forget her. Because if he saw her now... he knew he wouldn’t let go.

But with four hours until the Bloodmoon passed over, he had to be wary. Darius would soon lose the ability to weaponize the Bloodmoon — and the enemy would lash out with whatever final cruelty remained.

And from what Hades had been informed, Ironwall had taken massive hits. Two days of silence... and then devastation.

Because of the vampires.

His wings froze mid-stroke as the stench hit him — pungent, rotten, a cleaver slicing through the air. Thick enough to sting his eyes and run like a serrated blade through his nostrils.

They’d been numerous. An estimation rose unbidden — sixty vampires had flown over this area recently. And that was what triggered the strangest shift: he recognized the scent of each one.

Names he had never heard before tore through his mind, as if unlocked by the same brain injury that had loosened all his memories.

A shout cut through the haze.

His head snapped down. Ironwall Division lay below him.

Bodies littered the ground — tiny specks from his altitude. He angled downward, tucking his wings to initiate a rough descent.

He hit the ground hard enough to make the camp tremble.

Gammas scattered — then froze.

Weapons raised. Eyes wide.

No one moved.

Then—

"ALPHA!"

Voss stumbled out, limping, bloodied, but alive. Relief broke across his face.

"You’re here. Thank the gods, you’re here."

Hades shifted back into human form, his wings folding and disappearing as bone and muscle reformed. He straightened, taking in the devastation around him.

Bodies. So many bodies.

Lycan and vampire, piled in heaps, dragged toward mass graves.

Blood soaked the snow in wide, dark pools.

The domes stood intact — barely. Scorch marks marred their surfaces. Claw marks gouged deep.

But they held.

"Report," Hades said, his voice rough.

"Two full assaults," Voss said. "Vampires. Hundreds of them. They dropped ferals first — testing us. Then the vampires came down themselves. Fed on our wounded to replenish mid-battle."

Hades’s jaw tightened. "Casualties?"

"Seventy-three dead. Ninety-plus wounded. We’re at forty percent strength." Voss swallowed. "We held the domes. But barely."

Seventy-three.

More than Frostfang. More than Dawnstrike.

Ironwall had bled the most.

"Where’s Kael?" Hades asked.

"Medical tent. He—" Voss hesitated. "He killed their lead vampire. But he took a bite to the neck. The Deltas are working on him now."

"A bite?"

"He survived. His blood—" Awe crept into Voss’s face. "It was poisoned. Silver. Thea’s been injecting him for months. Built up tolerance. Made his blood toxic to vampires."

Hades stared. "He poisoned himself?"

"Yes. And it worked. The vampire that bit him — its mouth burned. The others saw it. They retreated. They’re paranoid now. Thinking more of us might be poisoned."

Hades’s silence stretched.

Then—

"Brilliant." Quiet, but fiercely proud. "Absolutely brilliant."

He strode toward the medical tent.

Everything in the camp felt haunted — the survivors moving like ghosts, hollow-eyed but still obeying orders, still doing what needed to be done.

These are my people, he thought. And they’ve bled enough.

He pushed the tent flap aside.

Kael lay on a cot, stripped to the waist, bandages wrapped around his neck and chest. Pale. Weak. Breathing shallowly.

A Delta worked over him, hands glowing faintly.

Kael’s eyes cracked open as Hades approached. "Alpha," he rasped. "You’re—" A wince cut him off. "You’re supposed to be dead."

"So are you," Hades said, sitting beside him. "Yet here we are."

Kael managed a weak smile. "Stubborn bastards."

"The best kind." Hades looked at the Delta. "Status?"

"Stable," the Delta said. "The bite was deep but clean. No venom. The silver in his bloodstream saved him — burned the vampire from the inside before it could inject anything. He’ll live."

"Good." Hades looked back at Kael. "You did well. Ironwall held because of you."

Kael’s gaze darkened. "We lost seventy-three."

"I know." Hades’s voice was heavy. "And I’m sorry. But you held. The domes are intact. The civilians are safe. That’s what matters."

"Is it?" Kael whispered. "Seventy-three dead. Ninety wounded. For what? To hold a line for a few more hours?"

"But if we hold — if we make it to dawn — every life lost tonight will mean something. Darius will fall. The Bloodmoon will end. And Obsidian will stand."

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