Chapter 75: Crimson Tears in the Rain

The silence inside the cave was far heavier than the rage that had preceded it.

Toby’s fingers slowly loosened from Valerian’s collar. The trembling in the boy’s hands had passed through anger, passed through madness, and settled into a hollow, dead numbness.

He staggered backward, his boots dragging through the dirt, and collapsed on his knees beside Dahlia.

He didn’t look back at the blindfolded youth standing against the stone wall.

He simply reached out, his bloody fingers gently pulling Calla’s lifeless hand into his lap.

Valerian remained still, his face half-shrouded in the damp shadows of the cave.

The dark-mithril suppressor beneath his coat was still ice-cold against his skin, masking the chaotic, furious churn of his three dragon cores.

He looked down at the small, motionless form of Calla, then at Dahlia, whose empty eyes stared blankly at the dark ground, completely unseeing.

"I will return," Valerian spoke.

His voice was sober, stripped of all detachment, carrying a quiet, heavy weight that cut through the silence.

"There is an ancient vitality root that grows along the damp cliffside of the lower ravines—the Nine-Leaf Blood Lotus. If its sap is applied to her chest before her soul fully dissipates, her heart will spark."

Toby didn’t look up immediately.

He slowly wrapped Calla’s hand in both of his own, his chest heaving with a soft, broken breath.

Then, slowly, he turned his head.

His eyes were bloodshot, rimmed with dark circles and filled with fresh, bitter tears.

But the rage was gone.

In its place was something far worse—a cold, absolute revulsion that made his face look years older.

"Don’t," Toby whispered.

The word was laced with pure poison.

"Don’t say another word. Just go."

Valerian didn’t move.

Toby leaned closer to Calla’s body, his voice dropping into a ragged, venomous hiss.

"I don’t care what kind of power you’re protecting. I don’t care what secret is so important that you let a girl die right in front of you."

He looked straight at the black cloth covering Valerian’s eyes.

"I hope whatever you’re hiding kills you, Valen. I hope it eats you from the inside out."

Valerian said nothing.

He turned slowly and stepped out of the mouth of the cave, disappearing into the dense, foggy canopy of the Inner Wilds.

The forest outside was quiet.

Aurelix’s terrifying aura had faded toward the distant, stormy peaks of the Core Abyss, leaving behind a scarred, desolate landscape of shattered trees and scorched soil.

Valerian walked alone through the gray mist.

Then, the sky darkened.

A single, heavy drop of rain struck his forehead, slipping down the side of his nose.

Another followed.

Within seconds, the heavens opened, pouring a torrential deluge over the Inner Wilds.

The rain lashed against the ancient oak trees, washing away the smell of ozone, scorched earth, and iron.

Valerian stopped near the edge of a steep ravine.

The heavy rain soaked through his black leather coat, clinging to his shoulders, dripping heavily from his chin and the hem of his blindfold.

He raised his right hand—the hand that had remained clenched beneath his coat.

Slowly, he uncurled his gloved fingers.

His short nails had sheared deep into his own palm, puncturing his skin.

Golden-crimson blood—the lethal, primordial blood of the Prim Sanguis—mixed with the falling rainwater, pooling in his palm before dripping down into the mud.

Where the golden rain touched the dirt, the ground hissed, dissolving into small, smoking craters.

Underneath the black cloth of his blindfold, a single tear escaped his eye.

It rolled down his pale cheek, completely indistinguishable from the cold rain pouring down from the sky, washing away the blood on his skin as he closed his fist once more.

"Little master..." Nox’Aethel murmured softly within his soul, the ancient entity’s voice devoid of its usual mocking arrogance.

"A sovereign cannot weep for every flower crushed beneath his stride."

"I am not weeping for the flower, Nox," Valerian replied internally, his voice completely flat as he began picking his way down the slippery, jagged rocks of the ravine.

"I am weeping because I had to let it die to prove I am still a shadow."

Miles away, in a lush, high-altitude plateau of the Inner Wilds that had been spared from Aurelix’s destruction, the sound of crackling arcana and steel filled the morning air.

BOOM!

A massive, armored Gryphon-Bear—a Tier-3 beast standing fifteen feet tall on its hind legs—was thrown backward, its chest shattered by a wave of brilliant blue spatial force.

It crashed into the stone cliff, dead before it hit the ground.

Princess Solene von Sol lowered her hand, her long, golden hair fluttering gently in the breeze.

She wore tailored, royal battle robes of white and blue, her expression calm, cold, and entirely unbothered by the beast’s massive size.

Beside the two girls stood her loyal shadow guard and companion, Lyra, holding a slender silver rapier that was completely free of blood.

Lyra’s sharp eyes scanned the surrounding forest, her posture rigid and defensive.

Behind the two girls stood a small entourage of five young noble examinees from prominent imperial families.

Their armor was pristine, their weapons inlaid with expensive gems, and their faces flushed with arrogance and eagerness.

"Magnificent strike, Your Highness!" one of the noble youths—a tall, handsome boy named Julian from House Vane—exclaimed, stepping forward with an exaggerated bow and a slick smile.

"Your mastery of the Solian spatial wave is truly unprecedented! Though, if I may say, had I taken the left flank with my silver spear, you wouldn’t have needed to waste a single drop of your precious mana!"

Another young noble, flexing his gauntleted arm, scoffed loudly.

"Please, Julian! Your spear couldn’t even pierce its outer hide! If Princess Solene gives the word, I, Marcus of House Valerius, can clear the entire eastern sector for her in under an hour! My family’s blazing crest technique is built for sweeping low-tier beasts like these!"

Solene didn’t even turn her head to look at them.

She reached into her pocket, pulling out her Slate of Marks as it chimed softly:

[+45 Points]

"You talk too much," Lyra said flatly, her voice sharp as she glanced back at the preening nobles.

"Your loud boasts have already drawn two packs of shadow-hounds toward our position. If you wish to win Her Highness’s favor, do it by keeping your mouths shut and your eyes on the treeline."

Julian’s face flushed red with irritation, but he forced another polite bow.

"Of course, Lady Lyra. We merely wish to ensure the Princess’s journey to the rank of First Examinee is effortless."

Solene looked toward the dark, stormy peaks in the distance, where the residual aura of Aurelix had flared hours prior.

Her blue eyes narrowed slightly.

"Effortless?" Solene murmured softly, her tone cool and detached.

"There is nothing effortless about this realm. The weak gather in herds to feel safe, while the true monsters walk alone."

She stowed her slate and stepped forward.

"Move. The points in this sector are drying up."

Deep within the misty, water-logged ravines of the lower forest, Valerian knelt beside a slick, moss-covered rock face.

There, tucked inside a dark crevice where the rain couldn’t directly hit, bloomed a small, luminous plant.

Its leaves were a deep, crimson red, shaped like jagged dragon scales, and its central stem pulsed with a faint, warm golden light.

The Nine-Leaf Blood Lotus.

It was a rare, high-tier medicinal herb capable of forcibly igniting a fading soul and rapidly regenerating lost life force, even in a mortal whose body could not accept high-rank healing spells.

"Found you," Valerian whispered.

With delicate, practiced precision, he used a small bone knife to carve the lotus from the rock, preserving its glowing root system intact.

He carefully wrapped the glowing plant in a piece of oilskin cloth and stowed it inside his inner coat pocket.

If I reach the cave within twenty minutes, Valerian calculated silently, stepping onto the slippery rocks, the lotus’s essence can spark her heart before the soul tether fully severs.

He turned, pushing off the wet mud, his body blurring into a streak of dark motion as he began sprinting back toward the higher valley at full speed.

He did not notice the air behind him.

High above the ravine, floating soundlessly in the pouring rain, a figure hovered in the sky.

It was Aurelix.

The Beast King had not returned to the Core Abyss.

Bored by the weak examinees who fled at the mere sight of its shadow, the ancient creature had been drawn back toward the valley by a faint, almost imperceptible anomaly—a microscopic ripple of dark, ancient authority that had flickered for a fraction of a second when Valerian had unclasped his fist.

Aurelix tilted its head, its six luminous eyes glowing with deep, amused fascination as it watched the blindfolded boy sprint through the muddy forest below.

"How strange..." a voice echoed—not in the physical air, but as a rich, velvety chime that vibrated through the surrounding mana.

"A tiny mortal... carrying the scent of ancient, burning scales."

In a flash of blinding, white-gold light, the colossal, fifty-foot body of the dragon-fox-phoenix vanished.

Where the monstrous beast had been floating, space folded inward.

A woman stepped out of the light, her bare, porcelain feet floating an inch above the rain-soaked canopy.

She was breathtakingly, terrifyingly beautiful.

Her face possessed sharp, exquisite, foxlike features, her full lips curved into a playful, bewitching smile that held thousands of years of ancient malice and amusement.

Her eyes were a striking, golden-crimson, glowing with supernatural intelligence.

Framing her ethereal, voluptuous form were long, flowing strands of crimson-gold hair that defied gravity, floating like silk threads in the wind.

Atop her head sat two sleek, furry fox ears that twitched slightly at the sound of the falling rain.

And fanning out behind her back were nine massive, breathtaking tails—each a magnificent fusion of silky fox fur, shimmering dragon scales, and glowing phoenix feathers, radiating heat that instantly vaporized the rain falling around her.

She wore robes of woven white-gold fire that clung to her curves, shifting continuously like liquid sunlight.

Aurelix raised a slender, pale hand, licking a drop of rainwater off her thumb with a small, pink tongue.

Her golden-crimson eyes remained locked on Valerian’s fast-receding figure in the distance.

"A mortal playing sellsword..." Aurelix purred softly, her voice carrying the sweetness of honey and the sharpness of a hidden dagger.

Her nine tails flickered playfully behind her, casting a warm, golden glow over the dark, rain-drenched forest.

"Or a dragon hiding among the sheep? Let us see how long you can keep your mask on, little creature."

She took a step forward into the empty air, her body dissolving into a cloud of glowing white-gold embers, silently following the trail of the boy sprinting toward the cave.