Read Rising from the Ashes (Andrew and Lauren) Novel by Only For You Updated 2025 -26 - Rising from the Ashes (Andrew and Lauren) Chapter 3105

Rising from the Ashes (Andrew and Lauren) Chapter 3105

Edmund roared and beat his chest. “Othniel, your tribe has been worthless for a thousand years! You’ve spent centuries hiding and cowering, barely clinging to survival. Compared to us werewolves, you’re nothing but a third-rate race. No matter how stubbornly you resist, you can’t escape annihilation.”

His voice grew even more vicious. “We’ll tear apart your women and children and rip the heads from your men! Progenitor Ragnar is taking the field himself. Soon, you’ll learn what real despair feels like!”

At the mention of Ragnar’s name, Othniel’s face went deathly pale.

Edmund seized the opening. His claws raked across Othniel’s chest, carving three deep gashes. With a thunderous howl, he lunged forward and slammed Othniel against the wall. Drool spilled from the massive wolf’s jaws as he moved in to bite off Othniel’s head.

Bodies of fallen Highland Tribe warriors littered the ground around them. Knowing that Ragnar had arrived, despair surged through Othniel’s heart. It felt as though even the heavens had turned against the Highland Tribe. Ragnar—the Third Progenitor of the Werewolves—had personally entered the battlefield. What chance did they have left to hold the line?

Suddenly, a streak of blue light traced a graceful arc through the air.

Edmund howled in pain as his massive body snapped upright. A deep, bloody gash split open the back of his neck. He spun toward the attacker and let out a furious roar. Had he reacted a moment slower, his head would have been severed clean off.

Nyx hovered in midair before him, her expression utterly blank.

In the next instant, she shot forward at explosive speed, her figure vanishing into thin air.

Edmund wanted to seize the chance to finish off his old rival, Othniel. But the threat Nyx posed was overwhelming. Roaring in rage, he abandoned Othniel and gave chase instead, his rampage already having smashed through the fortress wall.

“Mr. Fernsby, if you lose your fighting spirit and surrender to despair, then everything Andrew has done will be meaningless.”

Nyx’s cold, emotionless voice echoed into Othniel’s ears from all directions.

“You’re a member of the Highland Tribe. If even you give up—if you don’t believe in yourself or in your people—then what was the point of Andrew fighting for the Highland Tribe at all? What meaning would any of it have?”

The anguish on Othniel’s face froze. Slowly, the dullness in his eyes faded, replaced by light. He looked down at Andrew, who had already descended into the battlefield and was locked in a brutal struggle with Ragnar.

Othniel nodded heavily and spoke through clenched teeth. “Thank you, Ms. Kerrigan, for reminding me. I let fear take hold of me just now. Our tribe has endured a thousand years of suffering—this is nothing compared to that.”

His voice hardened. “Death means nothing to me. I would rather die than betray my family or Mr. Lloyd.”

Nyx let out a cold snort.

“The ones you were betraying were yourself, your people, and Hershel—who’s fighting to the death on this wall right now.”

Shame flooded Othniel as he clenched his fists.

“Edmund, you heartless beast—I’ll take your head!”

With a roar, crimson lightning erupted around his body as he lunged forward.

Edmund’s massive werewolf form twisted to respond, but before he could strike, Othniel seized him. The two grappled violently, their roars colliding as they tumbled from the fortress, disappearing over the edge.

Nyx reappeared beside Knox. “How are you holding up?” she asked. “Can you keep going?”

Knox was drenched in sweat, his body torn open by multiple wounds. Even so, he answered stubbornly, “Relax. I’m fine.”

He charged back into the fight, blocking the breach where werewolves continued to climb.

Concern flickered in Nyx’s eyes. She wanted to help Andrew, but she couldn’t interfere in his battle with Ragnar without risking becoming a burden. Instead, she shot off toward Hershel.

Wherever her blue-glowing dagger passed, werewolves were cleaved in half and sent tumbling down the fortress walls.