Chapter 216: The Walk to the Village
Adam sat rigidly on a fallen log, his crimson eyes fixed on the shimmering thread cocoon suspended between two trees. The silken structure pulsed with a soft, rhythmic light—Lilith’s evolution, unfolding within.
The vampire stood a few paces away, her pale blue eyes fixed on him with an intensity that made his skin crawl. She hadn’t spoken in hours. Her gaze said everything—suspicion, curiosity, and something that made Adam’s stomach twist.
’Stop staring at me like that,’ he thought, his internal voice strained. ’I didn’t know this would happen. I didn’t know Lilith would just... start evolving right after we—’
He cut the thought off, his face flushing.
Ignis, sprawled on a sun-warmed rock nearby, stretched her arms above her head. Her flames flickered lazily, casting dancing shadows across the clearing.
"So," she said, breaking the silence, "Lilith’s really evolving inside that cocoon thing?" She tilted her head, studying the pulsing silk.
Adam nodded, grateful for the distraction. "Yeah. It started this morning." He glanced at the cocoon, then quickly looked away. "Probably because of... everything that happened yesterday." He cleared his throat. "The... fighting."
Isolde’s eyes narrowed.
Ignis, oblivious to the tension, bounced to her feet. "Ooh! I want to see what she looks like when she comes out! Do you think she’ll get bigger? Prettier? More spider-y?"
Adam shrugged. "I don’t know. We’ll have to wait and see." He stood up, brushing dirt from his pants. "That’s why we’re delaying our trip. We need to wait for her to finish evolving before we can head to Kaelthar."
Isolde’s voice cut through, sharp and cool. "And what do you propose we do in the meantime? Sit here and stare at a cocoon?"
Adam met her gaze for a fraction of a second, then looked away again.
"We prepare," he said flatly. "I need to buy some supplies."
Isolde’s eyebrows rose. "You want to go back to human territory?" Her voice dripped with disbelief. "After everything that happened? They could recognize you."
Adam met Isolde’s skeptical gaze, keeping his expression calm and even. His voice was steady, carrying the weight of someone who had learned control through necessity.
"Relax. I’m not going to cause a scene like you and Lilith did. I can still restrain myself."
Isolde’s eyebrows rose slightly. "Oh, is that so?" Her tone was dry, unconvinced.
Adam didn’t rise to the bait. He simply nodded toward her. "And you’re coming with me."
Isolde’s eyes widened. "Why should I follow you?"
Before Adam could answer, Ignis bounced up from her rock, flames flickering with excitement. "Ehh? I want to come too!"
Adam raised a hand, silencing her gently. "You need spare clothes, don’t you?" He looked at Isolde pointedly. "Or are you comfortable wearing that gown forever? I don’t mind if you are, but you might."
Isolde’s jaw tightened. Her hand drifted self-consciously to the dark fabric Lilith had given her. She said nothing.
Adam turned to Ignis, his voice softer. "And Ignis, I need you here. To protect Lilith while she’s evolving. I’m counting on you."
Ignis’s flames flared brighter. Her chest puffed out with pride.
"Counting on me? Really?" She grinned, a fierce, happy light in her eyes. "Okay! I’ll guard Lilith with my life! But don’t take too long, alright?"
Adam nodded. "I won’t."
Isolde watched the exchange, her pale blue eyes moving from Ignis’s beaming face to Adam’s calm expression. Her lips pressed into a thin line.
’What a fool,’ she thought, looking at Ignis’s eager, trusting expression. ’She’s like a puppy being praised for fetching a stick.’
She let out a slow, resigned sigh.
"...Fine." She stepped toward Adam, her new gown brushing against the grass. "I’ll come with you. But don’t expect me to be your errand girl."
Adam’s lips twitched—almost a smile.
"Good girl~."
He turned and walked toward the edge of the clearing, toward the path that led back toward civilization. Isolde followed a few paces behind, her gaze fixed on his back, her expression guarded.
Behind them, Ignis settled onto the rock nearest Lilith’s cocoon, her flames casting warm, protective light over the silken structure.
"Don’t worry, Lilith," she murmured to the pulsing threads. "I’ll keep you safe."
Adam glanced sideways at Isolde, her pale features tight with tension. Her white hair spilled freely over her shoulders, catching the afternoon light like spun silver.
"Don’t be so tense," Adam said lightly. "We’re going to be travel companions, aren’t we?"
Isolde’s expression shifted—something between disbelief and irritation. Her lips pressed into a small, almost childish pout.
"Hmph." The sound was soft, almost petulant. "Do you think I can be calm when there’s deadly poison coiling through my veins?"
Adam blinked, then let out a short laugh. "That’s true. Haha."
Isolde’s eye twitched. She looked away, her cheeks flushing faintly.
’This guy...’ she thought, her inner voice sounded somewhere between irritation and resignation.
They walked in silence for a while, the dirt path winding between sparse trees toward the distant smoke of a village. Adam’s pace was unhurried, almost casual. Isolde matched it, though her shoulders remained rigid.
Ahead, the first buildings came into view—low stone houses with thatched roofs, a central well, a few carts laden with goods. People moved between them, ordinary folk going about their day.
Adam stopped at the edge of the tree line, pulling a folded cloak from his pack. Dark grey, heavy fabric, with a deep hood.
"Here." He held it out to Isolde. "Put this on. Cover your face."
Isolde stared at the cloak, then at him. "You’re not wearing one."
Adam shrugged. "I didn’t cause a massacre last night." He gestured at his own face—his horns hidden, his eyes still crimson but passably human in the right light. "Besides, I can pass for human if I don’t draw attention. You... stand out."
Isolde’s jaw tightened, but she took the cloak. She pulled it over her gown, drawing the hood up to shadow her pale features. Only the faint glow of her eyes remained visible in the darkness beneath the fabric.
"Fine," she muttered. "Let’s get this over with."
Adam nodded and stepped out of the trees, onto the path leading into the village.
Isolde followed, her footsteps silent, her presence already fading into the background—a skill she had perfected over decades of hunting and being hunted.
Adam walked ahead, his posture relaxed, his crimson eyes scanning the village with casual interest. He seemed completely at ease—as if he hadn’t been part of a massacre days ago.
Isolde watched him, her gaze narrow.
’He’s either very confident,’ she thought, ’or very stupid.’
She suspected it was a bit of both.
They stopped at a stall selling dried meat and hard bread. The merchant, a stout woman with flour-dusted apron, eyed them with the casual suspicion of someone who had seen too many strangers pass through.
"Traveling far?" she asked, wrapping their purchases in cloth.
"Far enough," Adam replied, counting out coins. "Any word from the roads? Trouble?"
The merchant shrugged. "Same as always. Bandits. Wolves. Massacre.." She glanced at Isolde’s cloaked form, then quickly away. "Heard something about a demon attack at the garrison, though. Soldiers are on edge."
Adam’s expression didn’t change. "We’ll keep to the main roads."
"Suit yourself."
They moved on. Adam bought rope, a cooking pot, a bag of oats for Ignis—she had developed a taste for them, despite being a dragon and a few small luxuries: dried fruit, a block of hard cheese, a bottle of wine that Lilith would likely appreciate.
Isolde watched him select each item, her pale blue eyes sharp behind the hood.
"You’re quite practical," she observed.
Adam shrugged. "I’ve learned to be." He paid for the wine, tucking the bottle into his pack. "When you spend most of your time in dungeons, you learn what’s worth carrying."
Isolde said nothing. She simply followed.
They were passing a stall selling fabric when Adam stopped. His gaze had caught on a bolt of deep crimson silk—rich, vibrant, the kind of cloth that would fetch a high price in any city.
He reached out, fingers brushing the fabric.
"How much?" he asked the merchant—an old woman with gnarled hands and sharp, knowing eyes.
The woman named a price. Adam didn’t haggle. He simply counted out the coins and took the bolt.
Isolde’s brow furrowed. "What is that for?"
Adam glanced at her, his expression softened. "Lilith likes nice things."
Isolde’s lips pressed into a thin line. She said nothing, but something flickered in her pale eyes—confusion, perhaps, or the faintest trace of envy.
"Are you always this generous?" Isolde asked, her voice carefully neutral.
Adam glanced at her. "With my companions? Yes." He looked ahead, at the darkening trees. "With enemies? No."
Isolde was silent for a moment.
"And me?" she asked finally. "What am I?"
Adam didn’t answer immediately. He walked on, his footsteps steady, his crimson eyes fixed on the path ahead.
"That depends on you," he said at last. "You can be a companion. Or you can be a problem." He glanced at her, his expression calm but his gaze sharp. "The choice is yours."
Isolde’s jaw tightened. She looked away, her hood shadowing her face.