Awakening in the Rain

As fresh air rushed back into her lungs, Ilisia felt an overwhelming thirst.

She opened her eyes to a curtain of black, fine threads of water falling continuously onto her face.

Ilisia climbed out of the coffin.

It wasn’t water she craved.

She wanted… she needed…

Ah, there!

Ilisia lunged at a figure before her, moving so fast she barely had time to register her own actions.

But it hardly mattered.

A primal urge swiftly overrode reason, seizing control of her body.

She opened her mouth and sank her unnaturally sharp canines into the person’s neck, drawing blood from their body…

“Ah… urgh…”

The figure cried out in pain.

‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry… I’m just…’

‘So hungry!’

****

She didn’t know how much time had passed before her consciousness slowly returned.

She found that someone had dressed her.

The scent of damp earth drifted in on the wind, and the patter of raindrops reached her ears.

It was the middle of the night, and it was raining.

“Shit…” A familiar voice reached Ilisia’s ears, but the language was one she had never heard before.

“Gods above, Ilisia, couldn’t you have been a little gentler?”

This time, the words were in a language she understood, and the voice belonged to Adrian.

Adrian stood beside a carriage, popping a piece of dried meat into his mouth with his left hand while dabbing at the blood on his neck with his right, a resentful look fixed on Ilisia.

Beside him was another of Ilisia’s acquaintances—Princess Heronie.

Heronie wore a black cloak, her fiery red hair tucked safely beneath the hood, untouched by the rain.

Strapped to her back was a sword wrapped in cloth.

“Is this hell?” Ilisia asked.

“You’re not dead yet, so don’t go cursing me,” Adrian replied, tossing the last of the jerky into his mouth and dusting off his hands.

“Boom!”

A sudden, loud explosion echoed from the distance.

Heronie and Adrian exchanged a glance and both shrugged.

“Looks like our fish has taken the bait.” Adrian turned, retrieved a sword from the carriage, and tossed it to Ilisia. “I’ll explain later.

We need to catch them first.”

“I don’t know how to use a sword,” Ilisia said.

“It’s simple.

Point the sharp end at the enemy and push,” Adrian said with a shrug, spreading his hands.

Ilisia stood frozen, her mind a chaotic whirl of questions.

She even wondered if she was already dead and this was some trial in hell…

“Hey, are you coming or not?” Adrian asked, turning back when he saw her still rooted to the spot.

“Don’t you want to know who killed your brother and sister?”

Reluctantly, Ilisia followed Adrian.

The rain-soaked earth was soft and yielding, making each step unsteady.

The surroundings were pitch-black.

There were no stars, and the moon was hidden behind thick clouds.

Only a few slivers of light escaping from nearby houses offered enough illumination to barely see the path.

Ilisia discovered her vision had become surprisingly sharp in the dark.

She quickly recognized that she was in a cemetery on the outskirts of the city.

The three of them walked in a line—one in front, one behind, and one in the middle—across the land of the dead.

Heronie led the way.

She had unwrapped a long, crimson-and-white gradient blade and now wore it at her waist.

Ilisia was in the middle, holding a sword with a pure white scabbard; she had no idea what color the blade itself was.

Adrian brought up the rear.

Unarmed, he walked with his hands clasped behind his back, taking small, brisk strides.

Their destination drew near: the far side of the cemetery.

Ilisia heard human screams, not from one person or even two, but the overlapping wails of several people.

The first thing that came into view was an excavated grave with a coffin inside.

The coffin’s lid was nowhere to be seen, likely blown clean off.

Splinters of wood littered the ground around it.

Several people lay on the ground, riddled with wounds.

They didn’t look like they had been caught in a blast; rather, it seemed an explosion had propelled foreign objects into their bodies, leaving deep, narrow punctures.

The wounds on some were clustered as tightly as a honeycomb, spraying a mist of blood—or perhaps, a vapor of it.

It seemed this was what had happened:

When these people opened the coffin, they triggered a mechanism inside.

The coffin exploded, and the force of the blast launched tiny projectiles into their bodies.

As for who had designed the trap, one only needed to see the smug expression on Adrian’s face.

Unfortunately, it was too dark for an ordinary person to make out anyone’s expression.

Suddenly, the figures on the ground stirred.

Not all of them, but a few who were less severely injured.

Their groans abruptly changed pitch, twisting into bestial snarls.

In the next instant, the wounded, who had seemed on the verge of death, shot up and lunged at Adrian’s group.

Ilisia instinctively sidestepped, narrowly avoiding the attack.

But while Ilisia was still hesitating, wondering whether to draw her sword, Heronie’s crimson-and-white blade had already pierced an attacker’s throat.

The princess’s swordsmanship was fierce and swift; in moments, she had cut down all the assailants.

As she fought, Heronie had thrown back her hood.

Her hair, like a blazing fire, floated on the wind, seeming to glow in the darkness.

The tips faded into the same crimson-and-white gradient as her sword.

Heronie’s normally ice-blue eyes had turned gold!

Adrian hadn’t lifted a finger, merely watching as Heronie dealt with the fodder.

A moment later, Adrian stepped over the struggling bodies on the ground and crouched before a heavily bearded man covered in wounds, with only a few tufts of hair left on his head.

He pulled a small vial and a small device from his pocket.

Adrian connected the device to the vial and inserted it into the bearded man’s arm.

“Don’t touch me, you mongrel...” The bearded man’s face was flushed a furious red, his eyes nearly bulging from their sockets, yet his pupils betrayed a deep-seated panic.

He roared with all his might, his body trembling violently.

He raised an arm as if to smash Adrian to pieces with a single blow.

But he couldn’t complete the motion.

The slightest movement caused the honeycomb wounds on his body to gush blood, and the pain forced him to his knees again.

“Oh my, no need for such a grand gesture,” Adrian said with a look of distaste, still steadying the device in his hand.

“What did you do to me?” the bearded man demanded.

“Just collecting a blood sample,” Adrian said, withdrawing the device.

“Don’t bother trying to use your vile seed power.

The silver pellets in your body are inscribed with runes and coated in a special biological oil.”

“You’d best cooperate, or you’ll only die faster,” Adrian continued.

The bearded man glared, his eyes wide with fury, but he didn’t dare move again.

“The ones over there were all corrupt seeds.

I’ve taken care of them,” Heronie said, joining Adrian.

“Does he match?”

“Number 134.

The blood sample is a match.” Adrian put the vial away and stroked his chin.

“I didn’t expect one of the vile seeds to be a no-show.

I thought they moved as a pack.”

Heronie planted her sword upright in the dirt and took the blood vial from Adrian, her cold gaze fixed on the bearded man on the ground…