The Destructive Adventures of the Lovers-Chapter 50: The Opening to Creation World

Phoebie stood on the icy balcony of the castle, her eyes narrowing as she looked out into the swirling storm. She reached for the crystalline orb beside her, its surface shimmering with a thousand frozen reflections of distant worlds. She peered deeper, her gaze settling on a vast, flooded island, its waters shimmering with a strange, unnatural light. The details etched into the icy frame beside the orb spoke of lush resources, towering mountains, and deep forests teeming with life.

"My queen," Phoebie whispered, turning back toward the throne room. "I have found it."

Martha's eyes flicked open, her icy, unblinking gaze settling on Phoebie as she approached, her heavy boots crunching against the frost-covered floor. She knelt before her queen, her head bowed, her voice low and steady.

"There is a world," Phoebie continued, her voice echoing through the frozen hall. "An island. It is vast, flooded, rich with resources and landforms. It is home to powerful beings... supernatural ones."

Martha leaned forward, her lips curling into a cruel, twisted smile. She rose from her throne, her long, icy cloak trailing behind her as she descended the steps, her breath misting the air around her.

"A perfect place to conquer," she whispered, her voice a sharp, bitter hiss. "A place to rule, to dominate... to make my own."

Phoebie looked up, her eyes gleaming with a fierce, unrelenting fire. "Shall I prepare the knights, my queen?"

Martha's smile widened, her eyes narrowing as she whispered, "Yes. Prepare them. We shall crush these beings and make this world our own."

Moments later, Martha found Ella in the towering, frost-covered halls of the castle, her daughter's white hair flowing around her like the tendrils of a great, icy beast. She reached out, placing a cold, slender hand on Ella's shoulder, her fingers digging into her flesh.

"Ella," she whispered, her voice cold and sharp, her breath freezing against her daughter's skin. "We are leaving this place. We shall conquer a new world—a world of power and blood, a world where we shall reign forever."

Ella looked up, her pale, blue eyes meeting her mother's unblinking gaze. She nodded slowly, her heart pounding in her chest, her blood freezing in her veins.

"I will stand beside you, mother," she whispered, her voice trembling, her breath misting the air. "I will fight for you."

"Good," Martha whispered, her lips curling into a twisted smile. "Prepare yourself. We leave at dawn."

The castle shook as Phoebie raised her massive, ice-covered blade, her muscles straining as she sliced through the frozen air. The sky above the castle cracked and shattered, the icy wind howling as the portal opened, a swirling, dark vortex of ice and snow, its jagged edges crackling with raw, unrelenting power.

The knights surged forward, their armor clinking as they marched into the swirling abyss, their blades gleaming in the pale, ghostly light. Martha followed, her cloak billowing behind her like the wings of a great, terrible beast, her breath misting the frozen air, her eyes unblinking as she stepped into the portal.

Ella lingered for a moment, her heart pounding, her mind racing as she looked back at the frozen, twisted halls of the castle, her home. She took a deep breath, her breath freezing in her lungs, and stepped forward, her body trembling as she plunged into the darkness.

They emerged into a vast, sunlit world, the air warm and thick, the ground beneath their feet soft and wet, the sound of rushing water filling the air. They looked around, their eyes wide, their breaths coming in shallow, ragged gasps as they took in the towering mountains, the deep, lush forests, the vast, shimmering seas stretching out before them.

Martha's eyes narrowed, her lips curling into a cruel, twisted smile. She reached out, placing a cold, slender hand on Ella's shoulder, her fingers digging into her flesh.

"Stay close," she whispered, her voice low and sharp, her breath freezing the air around her. "We shall make this world our own."

Ella nodded, her eyes wide, her heart pounding in her chest, her blood freezing in her veins as she stepped forward, her mother's twisted, icy shadow stretching out before her.

Far from the portal, on the distant, sunlit horizon, the Holy Land rose like a great, shimmering beacon, its towering spires gleaming in the pale, ghostly light. Ella took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest, her blood freezing in her veins as she stepped forward, her eyes narrowing as she whispered, "I will make them fear us."

Martha's icy breath hung in the air, her sharp, cold eyes fixed on her daughter as she spoke. "Ella," she whispered, her voice like the crack of a frozen lake. "Go to the people of this world. Get close to them. Earn their trust. When the time comes, we will break them, shatter their hopes, and claim this land as our own."

Ella's eyes flickered with a cold, calculating light. She bowed her head, her long, white hair falling around her face like a cascade of snow. "Yes, mother," she whispered, her voice low and sharp, her breath misting the air. "I will make them trust me. I will make them love me... and then I will break them."

"Go," Martha whispered, her voice a sharp, bitter hiss. "Do not fail me."

Ella turned, her heart pounding in her chest, her blood freezing in her veins as she stepped out into the cold, mist-shrouded air. She moved quickly, her feet crunching against the frost-covered ground, her breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps as she pushed her way through the dense, twisted forest that surrounded the castle.

The trees around her were blackened and burnt, their twisted, gnarled limbs reaching out like the fingers of the dead. The air was thick with the smell of smoke and ash, the ground beneath her feet soft and wet, the sound of her footsteps echoing through the darkness.

As she moved deeper into the forest, she came upon a strange, twisted figure—a woman, her body twisted and blackened, her flesh charred and cracked, her eyes burning with an unnatural, fiery light. She was made of wood, her limbs twisted and blackened, her body frozen in a twisted, agonized pose.

Ella paused, her heart racing, her mind reeling as she reached out, her pale, slender fingers trembling as she whispered, "Beautiful..."

The twisted figure did not move, its eyes staring blindly into the darkness, its body frozen in place, its limbs twisted and blackened, its flesh cracked and burnt. Ella took a deep breath, her breath freezing in her lungs, her heart pounding in her chest as she turned and ran again, her white hair streaming behind her like the tail of a comet.

She pushed her way through the dense underbrush, the twisted, gnarled trees closing in around her, their blackened, charred limbs reaching out like the fingers of the dead. The air grew warmer as she moved deeper into the forest, the sound of her footsteps echoing through the darkness.

Finally, she reached the gates of the Holy Land, their towering, twisted spires gleaming in the pale, ghostly light. She stepped forward, her heart pounding in her chest, her blood freezing in her veins as she whispered, "I will make them fear me."

Martha watched from the distance, her eyes narrowing, her lips curling into a cruel, twisted smile as her daughter vanished into the depths of the Holy Land. She whispered into the wind, her voice cold and sharp, "Do not fail me, Ella"