The afternoon shadows lengthened across the 3rd District as the sun dipped toward the horizon, painting the sky in deep hues of purple and orange. It was finally time for my departure. The western town of Carcaka was calling, and I needed to cross the distance through the twilight… the perfect, transitional hour where a creature of the night like me could operate safely without the threat of the blinding sun, yet before the midnight patrols completely locked down the borders.
My immediate tactical objective was set: slip into the arms trafficking guild's territory under the veil of dusk and locate Luke's twin brother, Luck Granhart.
I unbolted the heavy oak door of House 132 and stepped out into the cooling air. This time, I chose a different psychological strategy. I didn't hide beneath a heavy hood or a stolen cloak. Instead, I strapped my brutal, black-iron Death Chant Shotgun directly to my back, fully visible to the public. In a high-traffic city, projecting raw, lethal power was its own form of armor. Seeing a one-armed, scarred bounty hunter carrying a high-grade firearm would make any low-level street thugs or opportunistic pickpockets too terrified to even cross my path.
I held my heavy leather purse tightly in my remaining right hand, navigating the cobblestone streets until I reached the residential checkpoint. The district guard, Renny, stepped forward, his eyes widening slightly as they locked onto the massive shotgun on my back before shifting to my scarred face.
He cleared his throat, maintaining his professional tone.
"Toll and status card, Eirene."
Without a word, I presented my official registry card and pulled a single silver coin from my pocket, dropping it into his hand. He checked the credentials, nodded with a newfound sense of respect, and waved me through the iron gates.
As I walked away from the checkpoint, I leaned against a shadowed brick wall for a brief moment to run a meticulous audit of my finances. I unstrung my purse, letting the cold metallic discs slide through my fingers as I counted them. Between my grueling bounties, the infiltration of the Citadel, and my frantic transit from Lulu City all the way back to Caria, my exact savings now sat at 87 silver coins and 21 bronze coins.
It wasn't a king's ransom yet, and it certainly wasn't the gold fortune I needed for top-tier armor upgrades, but it was a solid, practical fund to keep me afloat while I hunted Don Anthony for those glorious 5 gold pieces.
As I tied the drawstring of my purse securely back to my belt, a rare, quiet thought drifted through my mind. Come to think of it... I hadn't actually met or seen Evelyn once in a while. My chaotic schedule… sleeping through the high-noon sun, flying across the continent under the cover of midnight, and raiding high-security prisons… had completely desynchronized my life from hers. She was entirely buried in her Bureau paperwork, and I was entirely buried in the blood of the underworld. We were two sisters living under the exact same roof, yet moving like parallel lines that never touched.
I pushed the sentiment aside, my single eye hardening with cold focus. There would be time to be a sister later. Right now, the twilight was fading, and a Mafia syndicate was waiting to be dismantled from the inside out. I turned my face toward the western gates, ready to begin the march to Carcaka.
After that, Plasma interrupted me through my thoughts.
"Oi, oi, Eirene, care you check your blood curse for me?"
Then I replied with a confused face.
"Hey, hey, Plasma, I haven't heard you in a while, you didn't spoke up to me since I arrived in Lulu city, what happened to you?"
"Naive Eirene, too naive, it is because of your magic dampening chains, your powers won't work when you wear them, or obviously, forced to wear them."
"Hah? I know your weakness Plasma, now I will wear magic dampening chains to make you shut up."
Apart for our seemingly daily conversation with Plasma, it is true I need to check my stats, my last recorded stats was on Sisiphon City, where I was actively hunting Oksana and her drug empire.
So I used inspect on my blood curse.
[370L/450L= evolution for Phase 7]
Phase 6
[370L/ 255L=+1000 mana(completed)]
[370L/ 267L=+50 strength(completed)]
[370L/ 291L=+50 defense(completed)]
[370L/ 299L=+100 agility(completed)]
[370L/ 304L= +50 strength(completed)]
[370L/ 315L= +100 defense(completed)]
[370L/ 329L= +1000 vitality(completed)]
[370L/ 341L= +500 mana(completed)]
[370L/ 358L= +50 agility(completed)]
[370L/ 369L=+1000 mana(completed)]
[370L/ 375L=+100 agility]
[370L / 379L =+1500 vitality]
[370L / 384L =+100 defense]
[370L / 395L =+100 strength]
[370L / 410L =+50 agility]
[370L / 425L =+150 defense]
[370L / 437L =+1000 mana]
[370L / 448L =+100 strength]
Attributes obtained: +100 strength, +150 defense, +150 agility, +1000 mana, +1000 vitality
Yet, I drank nearly 103 liters back at the citadel attack, I was a blood sucking monster right there, and nearly killed the whole patrol unit, I felt bad for them just by killing with my own hands, but still, my identity is far more important than their lives.
Because of my newly attributes, I used inspect on myself.
Eirene Rynd
Skill: Inspect, Blood Curse, Blood Sword, Defense Reduction, Blood Bow, Pain Manipulation, Shapeshift, Illusion of Cariñosa
Vitality: 7700
Strength: 7900
Defense: 5850
Agility: 5050
Mana: 13500
A bitter, quiet sigh rattled against the back of my scarred throat. I stopped for a fraction of a second beneath the crowd where I was walking, mentally pulling up my stats to gauge exactly where I stood before hunting a high-tier target like Gal.
The glowing numbers flickered into my mind's eye. My Vitality sat at 7,700, backed by a Strength stat of 7,900. Respectable numbers for a frontline skirmisher, certainly enough to trade blows with disgraced knights. My Defense was holding steady at 5,850, and my Agility hovered around 5,050. Thanks to my vampiric nature and the deep well of energy required to manifest my blood magic, my Mana was my highest asset, pooling at a solid 13,500.
And after that, It was still wasn't enough.
The transition from the bustling residential sectors of the 3rd District to the rugged, untamed outskirts of Caria required a deliberate, agonizing exercise in restraint. I kept my massive, razor-sharp blood wings coiled tightly and seamlessly against my spine, hidden flat beneath the structural alignment of my tattered commoner clothes. To deploy them now, within a mile of the city perimeter, would be a catastrophic tactical blunder. The sky was still bleeding the final, vibrant hues of twilight, and the surrounding terrain was heavily populated by late-shift merchant caravans, returning woodcutters, and eagle-eyed border guards looking to justify the newly inflated 16 gold piece bounty on the Crimson Phantom. I walked on foot, maintaining a steady, rhythmic pace, letting my heavy boots grind into the dirt as I covered the distance, a lone, one-armed hunter with a devastating shotgun strapped overtly to her back.
Every step away from the city gates was a step closer to absolute operational security. I marched for another full mile, tracking the thinning outposts and watching the flickering torches of civilization slowly fade into distant, negligible pinpricks of light behind me. The open plains eventually gave way to the dense, sprawling canopy of an ancient, overgrown forest… a chaotic labyrinth of towering oaks, thick briars, and deep, unmapped shadows. I veered off the beaten dirt path and plunged directly into the thick of the woods, purposefully using the suffocating foliage to break any line of sight from the main roads.
Deep within the heart of the timberland, the atmosphere changed entirely. The dense canopy overhead choked out the remaining twilight, allowing a heavy, pitch-black darkness to swallow the forest whole. I came to a halt in a secluded, pitch-dark clearing where the canopy parted just enough to reveal the emerging night sky. I closed my single eye for a brief moment, listening with high-stat intensity to the ambient environment. The wind rustling through the leaves, the faint scuttle of nocturnal wildlife… nothing else. Not a single human soul was within miles of my position; no witnesses remained to chart my movements or report an anomaly to the Bureau.
The absolute isolation was the catalyst I needed. Tapping into my core reserves, I released the physical constraints holding my true form in check. With a sudden, explosive rustle of flesh and fabric, my massive crimson blood wings burst outward from my shoulder blades, expanding to their full, magnificent span in the deep gloom. The translucent, blood-fueled membranes thrummed with a low, vibrant hum, completely eager to taste the open air after hours of forced confinement.
I bent my knees, coiled my muscles like a spring, and unleashed a singular, devastating downstroke of my wings. The sheer kinetic force generated a localized vortex of wind, flattening the high grass beneath me and kicking up a cloud of loose dirt and leaves as I launched myself straight up into the sky. I tore through the upper canopy, breaking past the tree line in a matter of seconds, ascending until the massive expanse of the darkened continent laid open before me.
Orienting my internal compass toward the setting stars, I locked my trajectory directly to the west. With powerful, rhythmic sweeps of my crimson wings, I sliced through the cold midnight air currents, a silent, invisible predator moving at high velocity. The city of Caria was officially behind me; my sights were now set entirely on the western town of Carcaka, where the arms trafficking guild, Luck Granhart, and the smug face of Don Anthony were waiting to be thoroughly dismantled.