"Make your move, vampire," she said, her lips curving with quiet mockery, eyes gleaming with a killing intent so dense it seed to cut the air itself. One breath from her could have sliced open. The space around her warped; her stance lowered, her aura hardened, every motion aligning with the precision of a predator ready to strike.
She no longer felt human, but sothing primal, a tigress waiting for her prey to blink. A chill ran through , my earlier confidence wavering for the first ti. There was sothing about Hera, sothing raw and unrestrained that no opponent before her had ever carried.
I hesitated, then fixed my eyes on the wound beneath her shoulder. She turned her shoulder away. Am I too obvious? The thought stabbed , but if I couldn’t see precisely, I could not move precisely. I had to learn that, and now.
My foot pushed off the hard ground; the world narrowed to Hera’s gaze, unreadable and calm, not a flicker of fear in it. My scalpel flared, red as fresh iron, my blood humming in the blade as if it wanted her life.
My left hand willed the needles free; they left my fingers like driven insects, angling for her face to pull her attention away from my true aim. I spread them in a deliberate net so she could not dodge without moving her whole body. If she ducked low, her flank would gape; if she staggered back or lifted her blade to defend, her shoulder would rise, and the weak seam would show.
One small opening. One clean strike. I can do it, I told myself; confidence is everything!
A deep hum rolled through the air, low and heavy, the sound of pressure bending like water under strain. My needles sank into sothing unseen and vanished from sight, swallowed by an invisible layer. Sothing was wrong. Was this an ability I hadn’t seen before from Hera?
There was no ti to think. My right hand drove toward her shoulder, scalpel slicing through the haze, but steel t steel in a violent spark. Her blade clashed against mine with a tallic cry, the impact jolting through my bones and flinging my arm upward. For a mont, it felt as if my shoulder might tear clean off. I was open. Her sword moved again, a sharp gleam cutting through the smoke, the fire around us painting its surface in molten light.
Her lips moved, muttering words that dragged my heart into the pit of fear. "Ten slashes to heaven. First slash... Flowers bloom in the night sky..." The air went wild, shaking and twisting in my eyes. Sothing flashed so fast I couldn’t react, one after another, each strike cutting through space.
I felt sothing hot and thin pierce my skin and slip out at supersonic speed. There was no pain, or maybe my brain couldn’t even register it; but my own needles were flung back at . I couldn’t move. Everything was happening too fast. The sky darkened, and in the next mont, I felt my body grow weightless.
The ground drifted farther away in my vision, the world spinning until everything finally settled. I blinked once, twice. Why did everything suddenly look so small? Huh? What is that? My eyes found a body standing where I had been, motionless. It felt familiar; too familiar. I looked closer. It didn’t have a head.
"Beatrice! No!" A woman’s voice pierced through the ringing in my ears, but the world was already fading, turning darker with every breath. Was that my body? Huh? Am I... dead? My eyes drifted toward Hera. Her lips parted, letting out a quiet sigh of relief, her eyes closing as if the battle were finally over.
My vision dimd further, and in that darkness, I saw flowers, blooming in crimson, spreading like spilled blood until they filled everything I could see. I knew this attack. I had imagined it a thousand tis at the end of the story. The technique that wiped out millions. But it wasn’t the heroine’s. It belonged to the villainess. So how...?
I almost wanted to laugh in the face of death. How stupid was I to think that I, a simple surgeon, could survive in a world ruled by magic? How foolish to believe I could challenge the main character of the story and win. What was I thinking? Am I a ten years old child? Of course it’s impossible to kill the protagonist. Their plot armor is too thick, too unbreakable for the likes of .
Yet as the darkness crept closer, I realized I had changed the story. Hera was no longer the heroine. She must have been corrupted by the villainess ahead of ti. Why else would she know her enemy’s technique and use it on ?
Shit... death is always so terrifying.
As the last light faded from my sight, the world grew silent, the sound slipping away until only the crimson flower remained in my vision. It blood quietly in the dark, it was a lily, delicate and cruel. How fascinating. What a terrifying technique.
"Pathetic."
A mocking, sultry laugh echoed through the dark, crawling straight into my bones. I knew that voice. I’d heard it before.
"Do you want to live, Beatrice? Do you want to slay the one before you?" Lysandra’s tone dripped with sweetness, like temptation itself wearing silk.
"I do..." The words slipped out before I could think. I just wanted to live.
"Then swear your loyalty to . Swear you will serve willingly."
So that’s what she wanted? To turn the puppet into her loyal servant?
"Go to hell," I muttered before I could stop myself. The crimson flower before trembled, its petals quivering as if caught in a storm.
Her laughter returned, fading with a strange, almost amused snort. Silence followed, empty and heavy. The flower was gone.
I sighed inwardly. Ti to accept my fate. I was a fool. If I ever got another chance, I’d never rush into a fight with soone stronger. I’d plan, poison, make their world crumble from the shadows, and strike when they least expected. Soone like could never subdue this world. I had to corrupt it instead.
[Ding!]
A loud system chi shattered the darkness. My vision turned white, and crimson letters burned into my eyes. It hurt, but I endured.
[Special Event Triggered: Dodge the Death]
[Would you like to live again? We can save you; we can reconstruct you. But you must pay the price.]
It felt alive. The voice behind the system did not read like a code; it felt as if soone was breathing through the screen, reaching out to .
"What’s the price? I’ll pay it. Anything to have another chance."
[Switch sides. Kill the humans in the town instead of the beasts. You may spare only two. That does not include the heroine’s party. You may not touch her; not yet. So, Sarrah, do you accept this price?]
If I still had a heart, it would have stopped. It went against everything I was, against every vow I’d ever made as a doctor. But...
"I accept."
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