Submission is Not My Style novel Chapter 141

The spirit world opens like a breath of eternity–vast, endless, silver light stretching across a sky with no stars, only the pale glow of the eternal moon. The ground beneath is neither earth nor air, shifting like mist yet solid enough to hold the weight of souls. It is beautiful, serene… but heavy, every breath filled with judgement.

At the center of it stands the Queen, her body shimmering faintly with threads of silver running through her skin, marking her for what she is: a direct descendant of the Moon Goddess. Her presence radiates command, her eyes blazing like molten silver. Here, she is not merely queen. She is divine.

Across from her, Malik writhes on the shifting ground, the last of Veydris clinging to him like oil. His veins burn with shadow, his form flickering–sometimes wolf, sometimes man, sometimes a grotesque, twisted in–between. His face is set in a sneer, though fear lingers in his eyes.

“You call this victory?” he spits, his voice ragged with hatred. “You ended your own life just to drag me here, just to erase me from the world. Do you even realize what you’ve done? You’ve doomed yourself, Queen.”

The Queen voice is calm and unshaken, the mist parting beneath her feet, power crackling in her wake.” Yes. I know exactly what it costs. Veydris demands balance–a life for a life. I chose mine to end yours. And I would do it again, a thousand times over, if it meant protecting the ones I love.”

Malik lets out a broken laugh, sharp and desperate. “And now you’ll rot here with me. Unless…” His grin falters, his tone tightening with unease. “Unless the necklace still exists. Tell me you didn’t destroy it. You couldn’t have–you wouldn’t be so foolish. Without it, there is no vessel. No way back for either of us.”

The Queen only smiles faintly, a cruel calm in her gaze. She raises her hand, and from the air itself forges a chain of silver light, shimmering like moonfire. It lashes out, coiling around Malik’s throat with a snap. He claws at it in panic, the light searing through his corrupted flesh, but the harder he fights, the deeper it burns.

”

“You fool,” she whispers, yanking him to his knees. Her strength here is absolute; his darkness is nothing but smoke before the purity of her light. She leans close, her silver eyes boring into his void–like gaze. The necklace is shattered, Malik. Gone. You have no vessel, no tether to the mortal world. You are

finished. Did you truly believe I would come here without a plan?”

“No…” His rasp turns into a strangled whimper, the fear he tried to mask spilling through. “No, no- without the necklace, we’re trapped-”

“Yes.” Her voice rises, ringing across the mist like a divine command. “But only you will suffer here. When your soul burns in the fire you’ve sown, I will be reborn. And while you wither in eternal torment, I will return to the ones I love. Now–face your final judgment.”

The air shifts suddenly. The ground trembles. And from above, the eternal moon blazes brighter, descending into a figure–majestic, vast, radiant. The Moon Goddess herself manifests, her form cloaked

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Chapter 191

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in silver and shadow, her face both tender and terrible.

Malik stiffens as her gaze settles on him. The Goddess’s voice is soft, yet it reverberates through the

spirit world like thunder.

“Malik,” she says, her tone edged with sorrow and wrath. “You were born of my creation, gifted the blood of wolves. But you corrupted what was given. You murdered, betrayed, and stained your soul with

darkness. You are a disgrace. A waste of creation.”

“No,” Malik gasps, thrashing against the chain, his voice breaking into panic. “No, not that–anything but

that!”

The Goddess raises her hand, and the mists split open beneath him, revealing a pit of fire so vast and

endless it seems to stretch into forever. The flames are not earthly–they are white–hot, devouring soul

and shadow alike, a blaze that burns without end.