Chapter 188: ’It’?

I have received so many gifts from everyone—thank you all so much. I will do my absolute best; words of thanks are truly not enough to express my gratitude toward those who support me.

Thank you... thank you so much, everyone. (^_^)

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The snake eye sank down.

Through the white stone, through the gold-plated corridors, then through the floors that did not exist on any map of the Council.

The deeper it went, the dimmer the light became.

Frost clung to the stone walls, then thickened into ice, clear and cold blue like the bottom of a lake that had died long ago.

And it heard screams.

At the very bottom, in the middle of a vast circular chamber, a colossal crystal pillar stretched from floor to ceiling, giving off a faint blue-white glow like a candle on the verge of dying out. Chains carved with red symbols coiled around the pillar, ran across the floor, then tightened around a woman.

Winter.

Her long silver hair was scattered over the frozen ground, but many strands had now turned black, black as ink, as though someone had dipped half her hair into darkness. She screamed and writhed, both wrists jerking so hard that the iron chains ground into her flesh, drawing streams of bright red blood.

But the thing she was trying to tear away was not the chains.

Dark Mist clung all over her body. It did not drift like mist, but latched on tightly in glossy, plump black patches, like enormous leeches buried deep in her flesh. Every time Winter struggled, they contracted once, then swelled a little larger, as if they had just fed their fill.

"Get... out... of my body...!"

Then, all around the chamber, eyes began to open.

On the ice walls. On the ceiling. On the stone floor beneath the crystal pillar. One, two, then dozens, hundreds of blood-red eyes, without lashes or brows, opened one after another in the darkness. Then all of them rolled their pupils at once and stared directly at the tiny snake eye that had just entered.

The screaming stopped abruptly.

Winter lowered her head. Her half-silver, half-black hair covered her face completely. The chains stopped moving.

Then she raised her head.

Those eyes no longer belonged to Winter.

"You’ve arrived."

The voice came from her throat, but it was not hers. It was deep and hoarse, layered over itself in countless tones, as if many beings were opening their mouths at once. It was impossible to tell whether it was male or female. Impossible to tell whether it was old or young. Only at the very bottom of all those layers of sound, Winter’s true voice could faintly be heard, fragile as the voice of someone drowning.

The snake eye hovered in midair. From it came a familiar female voice, lazy and sweet as honey.

"You’re making far too much noise. You even knocked down the old man upstairs’ chandelier."

"I only moved a little." The eyes on the ice walls blinked faintly, as though smiling. "This body... is excellent. The Sentinel left more inside it than I expected. This much energy is enough for me to devour [Heart]."

Winter’s hand slowly rose, the chains clattering.

Her five fingers spread before her face, as though grasping something invisible.

"But it is not enough." That hand clenched. "One season can only open one door. I need the other three seasons. Without them, [Heart] will never completely belong to me."

"You really are greedy."

"Greedy?" Hundreds of eyes narrowed at once. "No. I am merely hungry."

The snake eye did not answer.

"And that host?" The voice dragged on. "Is it still not rejecting it?"

"Ninth day. Still stable." Laviana’s voice was even, as though reading a report. "But there is something strange."

"Speak."

"Every time it is near Erik, ’It’ reacts. Its mana rhythm becomes erratic. The mark lights up. Today, ’It’ did not even know to dodge a chandelier falling onto its head." The snake eye tilted slightly. "If it were another creature, I would call that... emotion."

The chamber fell silent.

The eyes on the ice walls closed one after another. One by one, slowly, like candles being blown out. In the end, only the eyes on Winter’s face remained, pitch-black and bottomless.

"Emotion." That voice repeated the word, as though tasting an unfamiliar flavor. "Something unnecessary."

A long silence followed.

"But not useless either."

Winter’s lips slowly curved upward.

"Do not forget what ’It’ is carrying. Without the Core, the final step can never be completed. ’It’ only needs to obediently return when I call."

"And Erik?"

"He is a resolute man." The voice softened, almost gentle. "He believes in the heart. He believes that what determines what a creature is, is not the way it was born. A very beautiful belief."

Those bottomless black eyes stared directly at the snake eye.

"But what if one day, he has to betray that belief with his own hands?"

Then laughter rang out.

At first, it was only a soft giggle. Then it grew louder, echoing against the ice walls, echoing back as hundreds of overlapping laughs, deranged and distorted. The eyes on the walls flew open at once, trembling with every burst of laughter.

And at the very bottom of that laughter, faint and far away, there was crying.

It was Winter’s crying.

The snake eye silently turned away, drifting back upward through layers of ice and stone. The laughter continued to chase after it for a long, long time.

...

On the surface, the car slowly rolled away from the plaza.

"Give me your hand."

Runi looked up. Erik had already held out his hand, his gaze resting on the back of hers. There was a thin cut there, blood dried into a dark red line. It was probably from the crystal shards earlier.

She hesitated for a second before placing her hand in his palm.

Erik took a small roll of gauze from his spatial bracelet, wrapping it around her hand while grumbling.

"It was the same in the dining room last time. A chandelier fell, and you just stood there like a statue. Now it has happened again." He tied the knot, pulling a little harder than necessary. "How many more times are you planning to make me save you?"

"...I’m sorry, Sir Erik."

"I do not need you to apologize. I need you to learn how to dodge."

He released her hand, then frowned.

"Your hand is so cold."

Without waiting for her reply, Erik removed the scarf Elowen had forced on him that morning, looped it around Runi’s neck twice, then pulled the edge up to cover her chin. The movement was clumsy and far from pretty, the scarf sitting crookedly to one side.

Exactly like when Elowen had wrapped it around him.

Runi went rigid.

The scarf still held his warmth. The scent of sunlight, tea, and something faint that she did not know how to name, but whenever she smelled it, the mark below her abdomen would warm slightly.

That morning, she had adjusted this very scarf around his neck. At the time, she had only been copying what she had just seen.

Now, it had returned to wrap around her own neck.

She lowered her head and tried to count. Three times he had scolded her. Once he had bandaged her hand. Once he had wrapped the scarf around her. Every number was as clear as always.

But she could not count the sound of her own heart.

It kept beating wildly, following no rhythm at all.

...

In the seat opposite them, Meira silently watched Runi.

Through the scarf, she could still hear two mana rhythms intertwining. One was small and steady, still Runi’s. The other was cold, spreading like ink dropped into water.

But today, that cold rhythm was a little warmer.

Very slightly. Meira did not know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. She only tightened her grip on the hem of her robe and said nothing.

Beside her, Laviana rested her head against the window, her blue eyes half-closed as though she were dozing.

Then her eyelids trembled slightly. Once. As if she had heard something echoing up from a very distant place.

When she opened her eyes, her gaze fell directly on Runi. On the crooked scarf, the freshly bandaged hand, the bowed face trying to hide something.

Laviana watched for a long time. Then she smiled and slowly turned back toward the window.

...

"Oh, right." Erik suddenly spoke. "The messenger girl from the other day. She was in the room today too."

Meira raised an eyebrow.

"In that entire tower, everyone was kneeling. Even the Succubi holding Zeka’s hair had to kneel." Erik propped his chin on his hand, his gaze darkening. "She was the only one standing. Standing right beside Zeka’s chair, and that old man did not care in the slightest."

"That Council of those men..." Meira curled her lip. "I cannot be bothered to care. Who stands and who kneels, I do not know."

"I do."

Laviana was still looking out the window, her voice lazy.

Erik turned toward her. "Then tell me."

"Darling." She slowly turned her head back, her blue eyes curving. "Information is not free. Have you forgotten? I told you, once you returned from the Council, I would come collect the rest myself."

Erik: "..."

Meira closed her eyes and let out a long sigh.

Then she stood, pulled Runi over to sit close beside her, pushed Laviana into the empty space beside Erik, then lowered the velvet curtain dividing the two rows of seats.

"Hurry up." Her voice was as flat as if she were assigning a shift. "We will be home soon."

"Meira! You..."

Behind the curtain, Laviana’s soft giggling rang out.

The moment the velvet curtain dropped, the light inside the car sank into a deep crimson.

Laviana did not hurry.

She merely leaned closer, slowly, like a snake that had just left a sun-warmed rock. Her red hair spilled over Erik’s shoulder, carrying the scent of black roses and wine. Her blue eyes were very close, their pupils narrowing into thin slits.

"I told you, darling." Her breath brushed against the edge of his ear. "I will come collect the rest myself."

"Meira and Runi are right on the other side..."

One finger pressed against his lips.

"Then do not make a sound."

Her long, slender tongue slipped from her red lips, gliding over his collarbone, slowly enough that every inch of skin was tasted once. Then it stopped at his neck, trembling lightly, as though listening to the pulse beneath.

Erik leaned his head back against the seat, clenching his fists.

One button after another came undone beneath her red-painted nails. She did not rush. Each button was one beat, as if she were counting down, as if she wanted him to hear every soft snap inside the silent car.

Laviana’s long legs curled around him, winding tighter, one loop after another, just like a snake coiling around its favorite branch. The red silk slowly slipped from her pale shoulders, falling onto the floor of the car like shed skin.

Then she slithered down.

Lower. Lower. Her red hair spread across his thighs like a pool of fire.

Erik closed his eyes.