Eternal Undying Chronicles

Chapter 2 Call Of The Night

Carrisa was in a splendid mood. She had done something seemingly impossible: she had succeeded in creating a true undying being, not the cheap imitations that had become more widely used, but a true immortal being that could not be killed by anything.

The ability to create an undying being ran in her blood; however, only one could be created by any specific person of her lineage, and there was only a slim chance of success—about 1.3%, if the imperial scholars were to be believed.

But she had done it, and it had worked. That said, she wasn't the only one who had succeeded. She was certain a few of her siblings had done so too.

She had done it on a whim, because she had wanted to ask him why he had saved her at the cost of his own life. If it had worked, she could ask her question. If it had failed, she wouldn't be worse off than she already was; after all, she was in a situation where her life could be brought to an end anytime.

Still lost in her thoughts, she walked into her mansion. The mansion was a small behemoth in a more reserved and secluded part of the city, and it was her last bastion. She walked in and was welcomed by the last of her servants, a homunculus she had so generously named Amena. Amena was all she had left; she had lost it all.

She walked into the mansion, giving the maid a curt nod. Walking into her citadel, she approached the elevator. Its metallic doors opened before she reached it, and she entered without specifying a floor. The doors closed and took her to the fourth floor. She alighted from the elevator and walked to the balcony. Passing through the glass doors, she found herself gazing into the moonlit night.

"A full moon. I suppose I should be expecting them soon, hmm?" she said, addressing no one in particular. Shortly after, the maid walked in and gently placed a tea set on the table, the aroma of tea filling the air.

The light of the moon highlighted the beauty of the doll-like maid. She had brown hair and blue eyes, tall with curves in all the right places. Her generous looks were a gift from God, or rather, whatever alchemist had created her.

"Thank you for the tea, Amena," Carrisa said to the maid standing behind her. She walked over to the table where the brown-haired maid had previously set the tea set.

soon after had she sat down they heard a howl from the small forest outside the mansion.

"It appears we have guests, Amena," she remarked, with an indifferent look in her violet eyes.

Standing up, she walked into the mansion. Turning to the right by the door, she picked up a great sword that had been mounted on the wall. Following her master's example, the maid, expressionless, grabbed a battle axe twice her size from the opposite side of the wall. The weapon's enormous blade gleamed ominously under the lighting, reflecting the gravity of the impending confrontation.

"Shall we proceed, Amena? It seems we have some wolves to hunt," she said with a gentle smile, her tone now more aloof.

"Indeed, mistress," replied the maid.

The enemy she was about to face was no weakling; she knew that all too well. He was a powerful warrior and would not fall easily. However, she was certain she would not lose as long as she played her cards right. She could have set traps, but the enemy was familiar with her tactics, so there was only one way left.

As he did, Aiden Beowulf felt a strange relief, letting go of his sword as he staggered back.

...

The night was still young, and only a few minutes had passed since he left the hospital, but he found himself running tirelessly towards something. The closer he got, the more clear-headed he became; it was as if the night itself was calling him, urging him to hurry.

He dashed through the woods and finally slowed down when he thought he had reached his destination—a secluded mansion in the woods. But that wasn't why he stopped; he had heard unfamiliar sounds and decided to observe first. What he saw almost made his blood run cold; he began to doubt his own sanity for a moment. However, the call urged him towards the beast with monstrous aggression, to kill it.

But he resisted and observed its quick exchange with the mysterious young woman. As quickly as the battle began, she had lost; her sword was broken in two, and the part with the handle was unceremoniously tossed towards his hiding spot, as if urging him to take it.

With a heart filled with fear, he grabbed it. Holding his breath, he ran at full sprint towards the two-meter beast. Before he could reach it, the beast had raised its sword and was barreling down towards the dark-haired young woman. Without a moment's hesitation, he stood between her and the blade, as if compelled by a force beyond him.

A bitter cold traveled through him as he screamed in pain; the wolf's sword had sliced through his left side. Clutching the broken blade in his right hand, he didn't hesitate to plunge it into the center of the wolf's large chest. The broken silver blade pierced through muscle and bone, reaching the werewolf's heart.

Still screaming in agony, he fell to his knees as the wolf staggered back.

"I thank you for choosing to face me head-on. Thank you for allowing me to die with honor. Thank you for saving my lady," Aiden laughed, coughing up blood as he fell to his knees and finally onto his back.

"As my thanks, I entrust you with my blade and my lady, nameless warrior," he added, still lying on the ground.

Carrisa stood up, staggering a bit but managing to straighten her back as she walked forward. She ignored Ali, who was still in pain with a sword in his left side.

"I am aware that they took someone precious to you as a hostage, compelling you to turn against me. As I mentioned before, this battle was nothing but a farce, and you were fully conscious of that fact. You never intended to take my life; otherwise, there would have been no possible way for us to prevail," she stated, her voice tinged with breathless exhaustion.

He smiled, as he gazed up at her.

"My Argint... they made her their target. I... I had resigned myself to death, hoping it would ensure her survival," his voice, faint and full of sorrow, emerged from his monstrous form.

"Thank you, my lady. It was an honor," he added, glancing at Ali, who remained on his knees, convulsing in pain.

"I entrust everything to you," he whispered as the light in his eyes dimmed. "This path will be bitter."