Chapter 142: Distorted Rage

The throne room, a macabre tableau of blood and the mutilated remains of red moon witches, was enveloped in an oppressive silence. Nikolai's eyes, alight with a furious intensity, locked onto his father, who slumped in the throne with a grotesque appearance. The throne, once a symbol of power, now bore the gruesome stains of Alexander's blood, and the sight was repulsive. Alexander, once a formidable pure-blooded lycan, was now a ghost of his former self. His right arm had been severed, and his body was an alarming shade of pale, the result of relentless blood loss. Even the most resilient lycan could not withstand such a fate. "Will you kindly vacate my throne? It's being tainted by your vile blood," Nikolai hissed, his voice dripping with disdain. From his body emanated a pitch-black mist that rapidly consumed the entire chamber, intensifying the already oppressive atmosphere. Alexander remained motionless, a dreadful stillness settling over him. It was clear he was on the brink o