Hunter of the Evernight
Chapter 637: Crushed

Chapter 637: Crushed

"I am your father."

Arwen blinked repeatedly as she stood unresponsive, unsure of how to respond to the banshee that made such a ludicrous claim.

A part of her seemed to react, though it was too tame to be taken seriously, causing her to ignore it.

Perhaps, once upon a time, hearing that phrase would have sparked a fire within her, a desire that had remained dormant for several years but now... now, with Arwen’s spirit drowned entirely by Riona’s desires, nothing but the goal mattered any longer.

"Arwen, did you hear me?" The banshee questioned, worried that something was wrong.

She’d expected a response, either anger, sadness, or both, but not apathy.

"Arwen, please say something."

"What do you want to hear?" Arwen calmly asked, breaking her silence and catching the banshee off guard.

"... Anything. Aren’t you angry?... Happy?... Sad?... I know I abandoned you, and you must hate me for it, but..."

"Wrong," Arwen muttered, causing the banshee to trail off.

"What?"

"You are wrong."

"About?"

"I don’t hate you, Gregory," Arwen said.

"But then..."

"Neither am I glad to see you. Right now, your presence or absence is inconsequential to me. All that matters now is to save the Wailing Peaks from the Callings. Nothing else matters, neither you nor I."

"Arwen..."

"I will spare you today, considering you had good intentions, but never do this again."

"But..."

"You may leave."

With that, Arwen gestured for the other banshees to take Gregory with the latter struggling to break free.

"Arwen, listen to me!... Please!"

Arwen remained apathetic, watching as the banshee was dragged away.

Only when Gregory was gone from sight did she attempt to make her way back to her quarters only to pause as she felt something wet on her cheek.

She reached for it and touched it before glancing down at her finger to find it wet with a colorless liquid.

"Strange." She muttered in a soulless tone as she wiped it off and continued on her way.

***

It was known in mystical circles that the way to become a member of the Undead Wheel was to have a strong attachment or grudge to something in the land of the living before passing.

That grudge or attachment would serve as fuel, enabling the pneuma to reject crossing over into the Afterlife and instead persisting in the land of the living as a ghost.

Of course, not all ghosts were members of the Undead Wheel with some turning into evil spirits due to losing their minds in the transformation process.

In any case, those who persisted made use of the grudge or attachment that kept them in the mortal world as a reason to keep on going.

It was rumored that once the Mystic had come to terms with the grudge or attachment that kept them, they would be able to pass on to the Afterlife.

But then, what happens when even after they complete their task, they remain?

Naturally, the Mystic would slowly degrade until they could no longer persist.

That was unless the Mystic found another reason to persist.

For Baba Yaga, her reason... Well, she couldn’t remember her reason.

But one thing that kept her going was a desire to eat, not just any type of food, but the meat of a living, thinking being.

It was almost an obsession for her, which was why she had targeted banshees, turning them into stew for her palette.

For unknown reasons, she couldn’t leave the Grim Forest, or else the Solomon Alliance and the barbarian tribes would have had to band together to push back such a frightening foe.

In any case, having come across a source of eternal meat, Baba Yaga grew excited.

It was an opportunity to never hunt again, every hunter’s dream come true.

Enthusiastic as she was, she dragged Ulysses’ body out of the fireplace and watched his body heal in record time.

Just as Ulysses opened his eyes to regard her, he instead caught sight of a wooden pestle descending on his face.

The next moment, his face caved in and blood stained the floor.

***

Nadia sat, tied up at a corner as she watched the old lady prepare a brick oven while humming a dastardly tune to herself.

Despite hurting all over, she managed to keep her wits about herself, aware that her and Alex escaping from their current predicament was all in her hands.

She waited patiently, aware that any sudden movement would alarm the old witch which could possibly complicate things for her.

Soon enough, the old lady finished and then, she turned to regard Nadia, licking her lips with a look that resembled how a predator would look at prey.

Nadia remained composed as the witch approached and began to drag her to the brick oven.

Just as they got close, Nadia made her move.

Using as much strength as she could muster, even as it dug deep into her skin, she messed with her restraints just enough to maneuver as she then kicked the old lady into the brick oven.

An agonized scream escaped the lips of the old lady as she fell into the oven, seemingly consumed by the flames.

Joyful as she was, Nadia didn’t hesitate to pick up the knife on the table to cut her bindings.

Alas, just as she did that, she heard a chilling voice behind her.

"Insolent child!"

She turned back just in time to be met in the face with a wooden pestle that sent her to the ground, completely dazed.

By the time she came to, she saw the old witch, half her face sloughed off due to the heat, revealing the skeletal frame underneath.

She was standing over Nadia, holding a mighty pestle with a maddened gaze.

Nadia didn’t need a soothsayer to let her know what was going to happen next.

She tried to escape but the old witch was faster as the pestle descended like divine judgment, leaving no room for escape.

"Ah!!!" Nadia curled in on herself and the next moment, it happened.

Boom