CHAPTER 17: CONFRONTATION

Edward turned slowly, the moonlight catching the edge of his face as his gaze fell on the figure standing behind him.

Selene.

But she wasn’t the same trembling girl who had staggered into the Chief’s office in tears. Her presence was entirely different.

In her hand, she gripped a black shortsword, its edge reflecting the faint green shimmer of mana. She no longer wore the blood-stained dress from earlier, and instead, black garments clung tightly to her frame, practical and sleek, like those of a hunter prepared for the night.

Her expression matched her attire—cold, detached, and utterly foreign to the girl Edward had once known.

He studied her in silence. The air between them thickened, heavy with tension, but neither seemed eager to break.

Finally, Selene’s voice sliced through the quiet.

"You’re not Edward."

A deep frown carved into her features as she took a step forward, her eyes narrowing to slits.

"What the hell are you?"

Edward blinked at her words, his lips parting slightly. "What do you mean? I’m Edward. Who else would I—"

"Edward’s dead!" she hissed, her voice snapping like a whip. Her grip on the sword tightened. Then, disturbingly, her expression shifted into a wicked grin, sharp and cruel. "I killed him. Right here in this very spot. You should’ve seen his expression when the blade went in—he couldn’t believe it was me till the very last moment."

Edward’s chest tightened, but his voice remained calm, sharp enough to cut through her satisfaction. "Same as you did to Grandpa?"

The grin didn’t fade. If anything, it widened, curling with pride.

Edward’s eyes narrowed, his voice dipping lower. "And your parents."

For the first time, the smile faltered. Just faintly. Enough for Edward to notice the flicker of surprise breaking through her mask.

"They didn’t die in a hunting accident, did they?" he pressed.

Selene tilted her head, her black hair falling across her cheek as she stared at him.

Then, slowly, she shook her head.

"No."

Her tone was flat.

"When you’re born with a gift such as mine," she said, her grin slinking back into place, "the lives of weaker beings are nothing but fuel for the fire. Their blood, their breath, their hopes... all of it exists only to make me stronger."

Edward’s jaw clenched. His hands curled into fists at his sides.

"And what gift is that?" he asked, his voice low, dangerous.

"I made a pact," Selene said, her grin softening into something almost reminiscent of pride. "It wasn’t intentional—I was just a child. But what it gave me... what it made me into... is something far beyond what a weakling like you could ever understand."

She raised her shortsword, leveling its point directly at his chest. The blade gleamed under the moonlight.

"But I can show you."

The moment the words left her lips, the air stirred.

Green motes of mana shimmered around her, swirling in a slow spiral. The glow brightened, casting eerie shadows across her face, warping her grin into something monstrous.

Edward’s eyes widened.

"She’s at Green Stage..." he muttered, disbelief slipping into his tone.

Before he could even brace himself, Selene moved.

One moment she was standing still, and the next she blurred into motion. Her figure darted forward faster than his eyes could follow. Edward’s instincts screamed, his body reacting before his mind could fully process it.

He twisted, pivoting his weight to the side.

But he was a moment too slow.

The blade tore across the left side of his abdomen.

Pain seared through his body, forcing a choked gasp from his lips. He stumbled, tumbling to the ground, his palm instantly pressing against the wound. Blood seeped between his fingers.

Selene loomed above him, her grin stretching wide again, triumph clear on her face. She lifted the shortsword high, her movements deliberate and unhurried, savouring the moment before she would take his life.

"Goodbye... whoever you are," she whispered.

Just as her blade was about to come down, two figures emerged from the shadows around them.

From the shadows at the edge of the clearing, two figures emerged.

One of them was slightly taller than Edward, wielding a shadowy blade, while the other was far larger, wielding a warhammer made of living shadows.

Their presence was sudden and suffocating, breaking the rhythm of Selene’s killing stroke. She froze, her grin faltering for the second time that night as the two shadowy figures closed in around her with their silent menace.