Sista’s pupils contracted violently, her bloodless face stiffening into a pale mask.
She watched Su Ling—the young girl who once combed her hair in the morning light—twisting into an inhuman form in her arms.
Dark red spell markings writhed under the skin like living things, each spasm accompanied by the sharp crack of dislocating bones, as if something was tearing at the fragile body from within, crushing and reconstructing her bit by bit.
“Su…”
Sista’s voice broke into an incoherent tone.
She had thought she wasn’t that weak, but as soon as she saw Su Ling controlled by the Blood Curse, her eyes still ached uncontrollably.
She knew too well that it was the Blood Clan’s forbidden curse—because the ability of First Embrace had been sealed, once they inject their blood into a human, the human, unable to maintain their original form, would become a Blood Curse Vessel.
They could only be forced to endure the torment of the curse, living a fate worse than death day after day, and the Blood Clan member who used the forbidden art would also suffer the same backlash.
Now Moria’s face was also growing paler, clearly aware that her end was near. Hatred drove her to inflict extreme pain on Sista at the final moment.
“Kill her.”
The soldiers surging in like a tide behind her instantly encircled Moria, iron-clamp hands seizing her throat.
Yet Moria erupted into a bone-chilling laugh in this desperate situation.
That laugh was like broken glass colliding in the abyss—both a maddening pleasure and the final death cry before a soul is torn apart.
Perhaps in this ultimate despair, even an immortal Blood Clan member’s sanity would slip away like an hourglass, ultimately falling into eternal madness.
“Sista! Even if you win this war, I will leave an unhealable scar on your heart!”
Her crimson pupils reflected the raging flames, as if branding this scene of destruction into her marrow.
“From the moment you were born, I have always hated you—your wisdom, unmatched in the kingdom, ultimately cannot defeat your pitiful indecisiveness.”
Swoosh!
Her unfinished words were forever frozen on her lips.
A blade coated with mercury pierced her pale throat like lightning.
The Crimson Royal Robe, symbol of supreme authority, traced a beautiful arc in the flickering firelight.
The torn sleeves fluttered like butterflies, the skirt hem embedded with dark red gemstones rustling in the wind.
As Moria fell supinely, her pallid face still held a twisted smile.
As if mocking Sista, or perhaps mocking this cage of fate she could never escape.
The burning city walls cast their final light onto the Queen’s body as it gradually turned to sludge, putting a full stop to this fateful duel.
Sista ignored Moria.
Trembling, she walked toward Su Ling, crouched down, and carefully held the girl’s body tight.
The moment her fingertips touched Su Ling’s skin, the winding blood-red spell markings suddenly boiled, lashing out in counterattack like enraged venomous snakes.
The sound of flesh burning came from her palm, yet she still clung tightly to the girl’s trembling shoulders.
This frail body was falling apart in her arms.
Every spell marking burst into denser thorns beneath the skin, transforming the human’s warm flesh into a vessel bearing the curse.
“Your Highness, there is no saving her…”
A Bloodkin Knight standing behind whispered.
Sista’s fingertips dug deep into Su Ling’s shoulders, as if to melt her into her own flesh and blood.
She heard the knight’s words behind her, but they seemed distant and blurred, as if through a thick wall of ice.
‘No saving her?’
These words slowly cut through her nerves.
She lowered her head to gaze at Su Ling’s face.
The girl’s silver hair had faded to withered gray, the spell markings under her skin writhing like living things.
Each breath was accompanied by the faint sound of bones breaking.
But those eyes…
Those eyes still retained a faint light, like a candle about to go out, stubbornly refusing to sink into darkness.
“Don’t…”
“Your Highness…”
Su Ling’s lips trembled, her voice so weak it was almost inaudible.
Only then did Sista realize that her tears were silently falling, landing on Su Ling’s cheeks, mixing with the seeping drops of blood.
She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
Her throat felt as if entwined by invisible thorns, each swallow carrying the taste of blood.
In her memories, that little gray dog had also died on such a night filled with firelight.
And now Su Ling lay in her arms, suffering a torment more painful than death.
The faint glow of the great fire enveloped them together, as if cutting out a small world.
“Su Ling, I’m sorry…”
Sista could barely speak.
She had once seen in books the fate of humans struck by the forbidden art.
They would gradually lose their sanity in extreme pain, becoming non-human, non-ghost walking corpses, wandering in darkness all day.
She couldn’t imagine how cruel it would be for her if this girl in her arms—the girl she deeply loved—also became like that.
‘What should I do?’
She had ruled the kingdom with an iron fist, had quelled rebellions with cold decisions.
But at this moment, she couldn’t even make the simplest choice.
‘Kill her?’
‘Let her be free?’
‘Or… stake everything, even if there’s only a one in ten thousand chance?’
Behind her came the uneasy whispers of soldiers.
Some urged in low voices, some turned away, unable to bear watching.
The air was filled with the smell of gunpowder and blood.
In the distance there were still sporadic sounds of battle, but Sista’s world seemed frozen at this moment.
Leaving only the gradually cooling body in her arms.
“Your Highness…”
Su Ling’s fingers moved slightly, as if wanting to touch her face, but then fell weakly.
“I… don’t regret…”
Sista’s heart ached as if stabbed by a knife.
“You idiot… foolish maid!”
“To say such things at a time like this!”
‘Don’t regret becoming her maid?’
‘Don’t regret following her into the flames of war?’
‘Don’t regret… becoming a sacrifice in this game of power?’
Her breathing suddenly became rapid.
Some kind of nearly violent emotion surged in her chest.
She jerked her head up, her crimson pupils seeming to burn in the night, her gaze sweeping sharply over the soldiers behind her.
“Get out.”
Her voice was terrifyingly low.
“Everyone out.”
No one dared to disobey.
When the last soldier withdrew from the garden, Sista slowly lowered her head.
She pressed her forehead against Su Ling’s brow.
She could feel the curse’s power eroding the girl’s last shred of sanity.
Could hear the sound of blood gradually mutating in her veins.
When the last soldier’s footsteps faded beyond the walls, Sista slowly lowered her head again.
Her forehead pressed against Su Ling’s burning brow.
Silver hair and black hair intertwined in the night breeze.
Just like that moonlit night—when the girl came to meet her in the garden, and they had nestled together like this.
“Your Highness…”
Su Ling’s pupils had already begun to dilate.
Spell markings crawled over half of her face.
“I feel like… I’m about to fall asleep…”
Sista’s fingers tightened abruptly.
She could feel the life of the person in her arms slipping away.
Like grains of sand that cannot be held, the harder she gripped, the faster they slipped away.
“Don’t sleep.”
Sista’s voice was hoarse.
She cupped Su Ling’s face, gently wiping away the continuously seeping blood drops with her thumb.
“Su Ling, look at me, hold on a little longer.”
“I can’t see clearly anymore…”
“And I can barely hear… your voice…”
Su Ling’s fingers weakly grasped Sista’s collar.
“Can you… kiss me?”
“I have something… I want to tell Your Highness…”
Sista’s throat moved as she swallowed.
She lowered her head, her trembling lips gently pressing against Su Ling’s.
They should have been warm, but now they were terrifyingly cold.
Su Ling smiled weakly.
“Thank you…”
“Your Highness…”
“I love you very much…”
Tears covered their faces, but it was impossible to tell whose tears they were.
The girl in her arms had crystal teardrops hanging from her eyelashes, and gently closed her eyes.
Premium Chapter
Login to buy access to this Chapter.