Chapter 4 Crimson Bloom Part 2
1061 Words
"Go back to the shed," Seraphel said firmly as she turned to face Elara.
The young maid's eyes widened. "My lady, I cannot leave you alone out here."
"You can."
"But—"
"That's an order, Elara."
The authority in Seraphel's voice made the maid fall silent. For a brief moment, the timid young woman seemed to catch a glimpse of the person Seraphel had once become—the Viscountess who had navigated noble courts, political schemes, and deadly conspiracies. Her dark eyes were calm, resolute, and unyielding.
"I'll find the Blood Flower and return before dark," Seraphel continued. "There's no reason for both of us to risk our lives."
Elara bit her lip, clearly wanting to argue, to protest, or to stubbornly insist on staying. But after a long moment, she lowered her head. "…Yes, my lady." Even then, she looked reluctant.
Seraphel almost smiled. Some things never changed.
"Go."
Elara nodded and began making her way down the mountain path, but every few steps she glanced back. The first time, Seraphel waved her away. The second time, she crossed her arms. The third time, she simply pointed down the mountain. Only when Elara finally disappeared into the curtain of falling snow did Seraphel allow herself to relax.
The smile vanished. The warmth vanished. And the calculating expression she had worn in her previous life slowly resurfaced.
She turned deeper into the forest. The Blood Flower only grew in locations saturated with stagnant spiritual energy and unnatural cold. According to the ancient text she had discovered years ago, the flower fed on corrupted energy released by powerful demonic beasts. In simpler terms, wherever Blood Flowers bloomed, danger was never far away.
Snow crunched beneath her boots as she pushed through dense undergrowth. The forest grew quieter and darker, and even the wind seemed hesitant to enter this part of the mountain. Seraphel slowed her pace and carefully scanned every hollow tree, every rocky
outcrop, and every patch of undisturbed snow.
Minutes passed, then more minutes, but she found nothing. Just as frustration began creeping into her chest, a faint crimson flash caught her eye. Her heartbeat quickened.
There—at the base of a hollow ancient oak—a cluster of flowers swayed gently in the wind. Deep red petals, black stems, and leaves so dark they appeared almost purple. Against the white snow, they looked like drops of fresh blood scattered across a blank canvas.
Seraphel's breath caught. Finally, she had found them. Even from several yards away, she could feel the faint pulse of spiritual energy radiating from the flowers. The sensation was subtle yet dangerous and tempting, exactly as she remembered.
Relief flooded through her body and a breathless laugh escaped her lips. After all the uncertainty of the past week, this was the first tangible sign that her memories had been correct. Everything was proceeding according to plan.
Then the relief vanished. Every instinct in her body screamed at her to run.
The feeling hit so suddenly that Seraphel froze. Slowly, she turned her head. At the far edge of the clearing stood a rocky cave hidden beneath a layer of snow. Darkness filled its entrance, and something inside moved.
A massive shape emerged. The creature was enormous, far larger than any ordinary bear. Its thick white fur blended seamlessly with the surrounding snow while powerful muscles bulged beneath its hide like coiled steel cables. Each step caused the frozen ground to tremble.
Then it raised its head and opened its eyes—unnatural, glowing blue. The sight sent a chill racing down Seraphel's spine.
A Demonic Winter Bear.
Her face immediately paled. Of all the creatures that could have inhabited this territory, it had to be one of the worst. Demonic
Winter Bears possessed immense physical strength and terrifying endurance. Even low-ranking cultivators preferred avoiding them whenever possible.
And Seraphel? She wasn't even a cultivator yet. At the moment, she was little more than an ordinary seventeen-year-old girl.
The bear's glowing eyes locked onto her as a low growl rumbled from its throat. The sound vibrated through the clearing like distant thunder, shaking snow loose from nearby branches.
Seraphel didn't move. She couldn't move. The Blood Flowers were growing directly beside the creature's den—of course they were.
The flowers thrived on corrupted spiritual energy, and a Demonic Winter Bear produced plenty of it.
For one ridiculous second, she considered simply backing away slowly and carefully. Perhaps the beast wasn't hungry. Perhaps—
The bear stood up, its enormous body rising to its full height. Seraphel immediately abandoned all hope.
"Wonderful," she muttered dryly. "Just wonderful."
The bear roared. The sound exploded across the mountainside, sending birds erupting from distant trees and snow cascading from the branches above. Before the echoes had even faded, the beast charged.
The ground shook violently beneath its weight as ancient trees blurred past. The monster barreled across the clearing like an avalanche given life. Seraphel's eyes widened.
"Are you serious?!"
She spun around and ran. Snow exploded beneath her boots while another earth-shaking roar chased after her. The distance between them closed almost instantly—too fast, way too fast. A normal bear would have been terrifying enough, but a demonic one was a nightmare.
Branches whipped across her face as she sprinted through the forest. Her lungs burned and her legs screamed, yet she didn't dare slow down. The sound of the creature crashing through trees followed directly behind her, growing closer with every heartbeat.
A thunderous impact erupted somewhere behind her. Instinct screamed, so Seraphel threw herself sideways. A massive paw slammed into the ground where she had been standing a fraction of a second earlier. The earth exploded, blasting snow and dirt into the air.
She rolled across the frozen ground before scrambling back to her feet. Her heart pounded wildly. If that attack had connected, there wouldn't have been enough left of her to bury.
The bear turned, its glowing blue eyes staring at her with predatory patience. And for the first time since her rebirth, Seraphel felt genuine fear.
One week. She had survived exactly one week before fate decided to throw a demonic beast at her. Looking up at the towering monster, she couldn't help grinding her teeth.
"At this rate," she muttered, "I might actually die again before getting my revenge."
- Writer
