Yarra’s Adventure Notes
Chapter 331 - 43 Vain Banshee’s Howl_1

Chapter 331: Chapter 43 Vain Banshee’s Howl_1

"So tired." Another morning in the men’s quarters of the City of Innocence saw a pink door gently pushed open as Indulgence lethargically stretched, swaying her hips as she sauntered out of the door. Casually grabbing hold of Passion’s arm, who was waiting nearby, the two mature women once again cozied up together, hand in hand they left the pink doorway behind.

This is Phantom Street in the men’s quarters, a road full of pubs showcasing various styles from around the world. As evening fell, one could often spot beautiful young women in diverse clothing eagerly welcoming guests. Regulars in the City of Innocence knew that Phantom Street was one of the prime places for courting romance. It attracted a congregation of wealthy and influential people, not only men seeking indulgence, but also lonely widows and unrestrained young noblewomen. Both groups liked to stop by Phantom Street, have a drink, and encounter a spontaneous, colorful romantic rendezvous, letting primal impulses fill their inner void and loneliness.

Though this street may seem desolate on the surface, every patron venturing here is a wealthy spender. The income generated from this street can easily surpass half a month’s earnings of other streets. Without profound assets and background, it’s challenging to secure and maintain a pub here in the long run.

Indulgence, arm in arm with Passion, strolled along the morning street. Her high heels echoed crisply and rhythmically against the cobblestone streets. As they passed by another pub, its door was opened, and a stern middle-aged man emerged. The man looked like a person of power and stature with a commanding presence. Accompanied by seven or eight followers bowing in deference, they prepared to board a carriage waiting at the pub’s entrance.

Just when the man was ready to climb aboard, he spotted Indulgence. His ruddy face turned pale, his lips trembled, and he was at a loss for words.

"Heh heh heh." Seeing this man, Indulgence laughed. It was not the flirtatious smile that she often flashed in front of Catherine, instead it was a provocative and reckless laugh, filled with spite and disdain. Halting her laughter abruptly, she lightly touched her vivid red lips with her pale finger and shot a pitying and dismissive glance at the man’s lower half, her words full of mockery and scorn, "I was wondering who it was. It’s you. Been hiding for two months, found your confidence, have you? Well, doesn’t seem like any improvement. Still the same old. I genuinely think you only come here looking for virgins new to this scene. Otherwise, how could you possibly satisfy them with what you’ve got? It’s such a pity for those women coming here for enjoyment, only to encounter the likes of you. Unfortunate indeed."

While speaking these mocking words, Indulgence couldn’t help but shake her head in regret, appearing to be genuinely sympathetic towards those nameless women. The middle-aged man’s face reddened and paled by turns, his forehead throbbing, lost for words. Finally, he bowed his head hastily, scrambled into the carriage as if chasing for his life, and made a quick exit, leaving behind only Indulgence, lost in her laughter.

"Poor man." Inside the pub that the middle-aged man had just left, two waiters who had witnessed the scene by the windows commented. One waiter sympathetically said: "This guy is so unlucky, ran into Lady Indulgence yet again. I wonder if he will ever regain his courage to come back."

"Every man who has engaged intimately with her always ends up crushed under her mockery the following morning, making a pathetic exit, never to be seen again. It’s infrequent to see someone manage to recover their confidence like him, just to run into her yet again. Should we say he has good luck or poor fortune?" The other waiter chimed in.

On the street outside, Indulgence abruptly stopped laughing, snorted lightly and seemed to nonchalantly glance at the waiters inside, causing them to clam up, terrified to speak another word. Only then did she carry on, stepping away with her crisp strides.

"You must have drunk quite a bit last night." Passion was used to Indulgence’s antics and made no comment but leaned her head against Indulgence’s shoulder and quietly asked: "Worried about something?"

"Bad premonition." Indulgence confessed worriedly: "I am a bit concerned about the two gals downstairs. Can’t shake off a sense of impending trouble."

"To think that we would worry about others, really, we’re not your typical shadow stalkers, are we?" Passion commented self-mockingly. "Such a thing has never happened in the past."

"They were the first to be genuinely concerned about me, so I suppose they are exceptions." Indulgence laughed at herself, shook her head, and sighed: "Let’s hope it’s just my imagination."

"Take it easy. It should be okay. They have ample experience, and they can take care of themselves with their abilities. There should be no danger." Passion comforted gently: "Don’t fret about it. Better to focus on ourselves. Today we have to deal with those dullards, going to be a mental drain."

"Yes, it’s going to take some effort." When reminded of the day’s plan, Indulgence also grimaced, "Just thinking about it gives me a headache. Let’s hurry back and prepare."

Two women, hand in hand, slowly disappeared into a distance under the morning sun, only the empty street behind them bore witness to what had just happened.

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"Woo~~~~~," The whispers of the Undead echoed around the sewers, where a large group of ghosts surrounded the fallen Catherine, launching a furious attack on her. The sisters Pansy and Mimosa, their backs against Vivian, anxiously stood within the range of the ghosts. They wanted to rush in to pull Catherine out several times, but reason told them that this was utterly impossible. However, they could not bring themselves to flee either. They had a strange feeling that if they chose to run away at that moment, they would lose something important that they had just gained and could never retrieve it for the rest of their lives. This intuition made them petrified, unable to proceed or retreat.

Another violent round of coughs, the Aggression Shield around Catherine dimmed further. Finally, a weapon pierced through the Aggression Shield, leaving a shallow wound on her. The life essence in the blood excited the Undead, making them more agitated. The power of their weapons increased and the Aggression Shield could no longer condense and completely dissipated in the air.

"Sister Catherine!" a young, petite figure scrambled out from under Catherine. A pair of beautiful black eyes turned blood-red on her delicate face, her lively and cute face suddenly became hideous. She opened her mouth wide, and an indescribable roar came out of her gaping mouth: "Sister Catherine!"

Upon hearing the sound, the proteas and mimosas outside felt dizzy. Not because of physical dizziness, but because they felt the dizzying sensation of their souls wanting to fly out of their bodies; they were helpless. Luckily, this attack was not targeting them; otherwise, they, being ordinary people, would definitely become the first and second victims.

Yes, it was indeed an attack rather than a mere shout. This was the Banshee’s Howl, a soul attack that frightened many. It targeted the soul with an undefendable attack. Even the deaf could not escape the spiritual judgement. Faced with the Banshee’s Howl, aside from priests, there was no other way to counter the attack but to pray for the strength of their soul. All they could do was to silently wait for the verdict of life or death.

The Banshee’s Howl, a unique attack of the Death Banshee - the pinnacle of ghost-type Undead. When Annie was revealed to be a Death Banshee, Pannis had once asked her about it, but she didn’t know how to carry out such an attack and had no combat power at all. However, at this very moment, when she saw her favorite sister Catherine on the verge of death, the instinct buried deep within her soul finally awakened. In her desperate state, she unconsciously used her strongest power and let out a chilling howl that only came from the banshee.

The Banshee’s Howl was the most terrifying attack for the living, but it also wasn’t ineffective against the Undead. Against other Undead, the Banshee’s Howl could shatter the Soul Fire in the bodies of the Undead that weren’t powerful enough, causing them to return to their eternal slumber. But against ghosts, the main use of the Banshee’s Howl was not so much an attack but more of a control mechanism. It could manipulate a large number of unconscious Undead in the vicinity, making them act according to the will of the Death Banshee.

After the howl, Annie’s blood-red eyes reverted to their usual clarity. Her petite figure faded considerably, and her face looked noticeably weaker. But the ghosts surrounding Catherine began to change, a few that were the closest seemed to have received some command and immediately attacked their own kind, driving the other uncontrolled ghosts away from Catherine.

Having gotten a chance to breathe, Catherine somehow managed to support her body with the last piece of her shield and slowly stood up, but she could only let out a bitter smile. For from the corner of her eye, she noticed a giant eight meter tall puppet slowly raising its fist behind her, and the worsening injuries had completely drained her of strength with no way to fend off this deadly attack.

At the moment the fist was about to descend, Catherine’s mind suddenly became incredibly clear, as if she was back in time kneeling before the statue of a hero. She seemed to be once again yearningly looking up at the ordinary but spirited and lively face on the statue of Lady Nellie, the knight.

Once again, Catherine thought of the dream she had before she embarked on this journey. She once again saw that vibrant and powerful figure confronting a tidal wave of Undead in her dream, and she felt again that gaze that transcended time and life and death.

"So that was a premonition in the dream. Lady Nellie, are you calling my soul back to your horse front?" Catherine let out a bitter laugh, her gaze seemed to penetrate the top of the sewers and fly into the far distance, "Would you guys be sad if I died? Lina, Vivian, and... Pannis."

For a moment, Pannis’s face seemed to flash before Catherine’s eyes, that face that would never get serious, his eyes were always hiding profound pain, "Such a pity, I didn’t have enough time to achieve redemption for you, Pannis." (To be continued. If you like this work, please come to qidian.com to vote and recommend it. Your support is my greatest motivation. Mobile users please visit m.qidian.com for reading.)