Chapter 61: Requiem for a Traitor
The entirety of Corven’s vision was blurred. The air itself seemed thick, almost suffocating, filled with an overwhelming flood of words—symbols and characters swirling in every direction. None of them made immediate sense. Unknown, ancient, and unreadable to the average mind.
But understanding unknown languages was Corven’s strong point.
It came as naturally to him as breathing.
He forced his eyes open—those crimson irises now carrying a glowing gold streak through the middle. A sharp glint. Something had changed.
Something fundamental.
A presence pulsed from his gaze now—dense, undeniable. The kind of pressure that made air feel heavier.
[The Archivist Reads]
The vampire who had betrayed his own kind stood completely still, just a few feet away. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t speak.
He waited.
His posture was tense, shoulders locked, as if even the smallest mistake might cost him his life. Because it would. He’d seen enough to know the line between survival and death had vanished.
"Ughhh... even in death, the illusion’s still in effect," Corven muttered under his breath, staggering as he tried to steady himself. His body was still catching up to what had just happened—resurrection wasn’t exactly a clean process.
The traitorous vampire moved quickly, catching him before he fell again and offering himself as support without hesitation.