CH290 Amelia Fury II

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However, the challenges to Drake and Amelia's relationship did not end there.

To truly validate Amelia's sacrifice—and to raise a noble family worthy of her—Drake needed more than battlefield victories. He needed allies. And for men of power, handshakes and ink on parchment meant little. Such agreements could be torn apart as easily as paper itself.

What bound noble families together was something far stronger.

Marriage.

Drake had been ready to flip the table the moment it was suggested. But the one person who should have opposed it most—Amelia—was the one who stopped him.

"You cannot allow the sacrifices of our brothers and sisters to go to waste," Amelia told him firmly. "More important than your pride is your responsibility to the people who fought under you. You have a chance to claim a noble title and give them the peaceful, better life they deserve."

"But Amelia, what they are asking of me is—"

"I know," she cut him off, her voice steady though her eyes carried sorrow. "I understand as well. Do it, Drake."

"…I understand." Drake could only pull her into a tight embrace.

Her words on that day laid the foundation for the golden age the Fury family would one day enjoy. Yet looking back, Drake often wished he had chosen death over duty—for this was the moment that set in motion the chain of events leading to Amelia's death.

After marrying Amelia and the other women, she was inevitably placed in an awkward position that Drake could do little to shield her from.

Joseline Holt—the Marquis' daughter—and the two other Fury brides were all noble-born. Amelia was a commoner.

Her only shield in this contest was her rank: Saint. Injured, yes, but a Saint nonetheless. That was enough to level the field, at least for a time.

But in noble households, the true battlefield was not the wedding chamber. It was the nursery. The power of a wife was decided by the quality of the heirs she bore.

And here, Drake made what he would forever regard as his greatest mistake.

He tried to rig the odds in Amelia's favour.

Believing that her Saintly physique would allow it, Drake refrained from suppressing his Legendary vitality during their intimacy. Instead, he unleashed it fully, deliberately empowering the seed he left within her.

The vast opposite of what he did with the other women.

With Amelia, Drake poured his full Legendary power into the act, hoping it would guarantee that their child inherited the purest bloodline among all his potential heirs. If their offspring's bloodline outshone the rest, the bloodline-obsessed members of the Fury family would be forced into silence.

Drake's plan worked—just not in the way he imagined.

There had never been proof that a parent's Legendary vitality could influence bloodline inheritance. It remained as fickle and random as ever. Yet by sheer chance—or perhaps by cruel fate—Drake and Amelia's child inherited not only the purest form of his Furor bloodline, but also the full brilliance of Amelia's hidden lineage.

That child was Alex.

And this miracle of fortune became the root of Drake's lifelong misery.

One of the telltale signs of a child's bloodline purity was the duration of their mother's pregnancy. The stronger the inheritance, the longer the incubation.

For most high-bloodline heirs, eleven months was the norm.

Amelia carried Alex's pregnancy for thirteen.

The prolonged strain worsened her already fragile cultivation foundation. Yet rather than allow a premature birth, she used the remnants of her unique bloodline power to safeguard the child's growth, sacrificing her own body bit by bit.

Drake could only watch helplessly.

Drake's Furor Bloodline and Amelia's –at the time—unknown bloodline were antithetical.

Drake's Furor Bloodline leaned toward darkness, negative emotions, physical combat enhancement and heightening of mental state while Amelia's unknown bloodline leaned towards the light, positive emotions, magical enhancements and calming of mental state.

And within Amelia's body, those forces clashed without end. She endured unimaginable torment to keep them from tearing their child apart.

Drake's guilt only deepened. He refused to let any of his other wives conceive, despite Amelia urging him to honour the agreements with his allies. He would not allow any woman to bear his heir before her—not when Amelia was already paying the price for his choice.

It was the first request of hers he ever denied.

He was prepared to shatter every alliance rather than see another woman give birth before Amelia.

In the final months, Amelia's condition miraculously stabilised. At last, she gave birth to Alex Fury. And for a fleeting moment, it seemed fate had relented. Amelia began to recover, her body showing signs of healing from the long ordeal.

With her strength returning, she gently persuaded Drake to finally fulfil his duty to the other women of his household.

However, it was later that Drake discovered the sad truth; he had been tricked. Amelia hadn't recovered. She had deliberately drained what remained of her foundation to craft the illusion of health — all to convince him to perform his duties and keep the fragile world they'd built from collapsing.

After the other wives gave birth, Amelia's condition quietly and steadily worsened.

"I lived a joyous life, on my own terms," she said, voice thin but steady. "I don't blame you or anyone else for how things turned out. It was all my choice, and I am happy I got to make it.

"Do not hate the child, Drake. Nor yourself. This is just life. And I am grateful for all I have had.

"Take care of the children the best you can. No matter who their mothers are, they are your children as well.

"And most importantly, I don't wish for my child to become the strongest in the world. I don't care if he becomes your heir, or just another noble scion. All I ask… all I hope is that you allow him to live a happy life, on his own terms — just as you let me."

Those were the last words of the woman who could have become a Legend — who could have been so much more — but chose instead to be a humble wife and a loving mother.

-

Drake spoke softly, as if trying to stitch together memory and grief. "Amelia, you would be so proud of your boy if you were here. He certainly takes after you." A small, broken smile touched him. "The fragile cub of yesteryear has grown into a fledgling alpha who now knows how to care for his pack."

He paused, the smile fading into something more complicated. "Unfortunately, he didn't choose the peaceful life you wanted for him. He walked a path like his old man's. I suppose I win that fight, though I'm not sure if I should be glad. Still — I am proud of the man he is becoming. I hope you would have been, too."

"The children are grown and independent, or at least have someone watching over them. I am finally free. The matters I left undone for years… it is time to finish them."

Drake poured himself a cup, raised it as if toasting an absent friend, then tipped it to the earth, letting the wine wet the ground.

"It is time to ensure the lives and family you sacrificed yourself for become — and remain — worthy of your sacrifice.

"Rest well, my love."

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AUTHOR'S NOTE

This chapter concludes Alex and Drake's backstory. With that wrapped up, we can now turn our attention to the long-hinted Interplanar War.

I must confess—I have many ideas swirling around, but I don't yet have a fully concrete plan for the next volume. Honestly, I'm just as curious as you are to see what direction it all takes. What I do know is that the upcoming arc will lay the foundation for what's destined to become Alex's interplanar empire, as promised in the synopsis.

I only hope I don't flop it—and that I'll continue to enjoy the privilege of having you along for this journey.

Alright then, see you in the next chapter!

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