Chapter 33: I Reject My Vampirity, Demond! (1)
"That witch is indeed a pain..."
Manasseh gritted her teeth, her hooded figure moving swiftly through the shadowy streets of the Town of Rouen. The cold gust whipped at her cloak, bringing with it whispers of fear and uncertainty through the alleyways. She knew she was being followed, that witch's stunt for arrivng so quickly on the scene is no mere coincidence, she thought. Her instincts, honed over centuries of survival, were screaming at her to be vigilant. The feeling of eyes boring into her back was now unmistakable, and she couldn't shake off the sense that she was being herded like her massacred clans facing the hero.
"Think...what 'logic' does this...tracker follows?"
There is no weakness that is not embedded within a 24-hour automated tracking. Her silk told her that it is indeed not a 'rune' magic on her body, her noble instincts as the strong could not detect a wide-range global magic that watched her from afar. That leaves only one option: familiar, or something akin to a familiar, following her even admist the street.
The unsettled crowd murmured around her, as Manasseh took a deep breath. The incident's aftermath had not gone unnoticed by the townsfolk, who now cast suspicious glances at every shadow that fell upon the cobblestone's runes. Even with her appearance changed now, her red hair dyed black and her skin a shade paler than usual, it is useless if that trick was already found, and her presence monitored by another which she could not detect.
...is this the end? Another futile struggle by her kin, desperate to leave a bloody mark on history, only to cower and scattered like snow dusts again? She mused as she reached the edge of town, her eyes scanning for any sign of pursuit.
...no, her scowl grew fiercer. It would not end here, she vowed to herself. Her eyes fell upon a stray cat, its fur matted with the dirt of the alleyways. Its mana was faint as if almost nonexistent, and the creature looked up at her with curiosity in its eyes.
Then, Manasseh's mind turmoiled, back to when she first 'glanced' from afar the incident, back to the interrogation at the entrance. The witch has confessed she could recognise 'Alice's mana', as if she could see through the intricacies of the silk. Could it be...that her tracker is the same? That it operated based on the same logic?
There was no one now besides them, except a few beggars and the cat, whose eyes shone eerily under the moonlight. The creature's pupils dilated as it took a step closer to her, its tail flicking in excitement. The witch's words played in her head again, and the cat's innocent gaze suddenly seemed too knowing.