Chapter 135: Burn the Journal

The darkness consumed them entirely. Vincent was the first to hit the ground, his claws scraping against the stone. He gasped for air, blood trickling from his arms. Frantically, he turned his head, searching for—

“Camela!”

Her body crashed down beside him, chains clanging as they dragged her across the floor. Her scar on her chest glowed white, growing brighter with each scream she let out.

The ghost voice slithered through the chamber like smoke. “You keep trying to save her, but every time you do, you only make her suffer more.”

Vincent growled in anger and stood up, his claws blazing gold. “Show yourself!”

Laughter responded to him. The sound echoed from every direction around him—the walls, ceiling, and floor. It pounded in his head like nails.

Camela’s weak whisper broke through amidst the chaos. “Vincent…”

He dropped to his knees beside her and pulled her close to his chest. Her skin felt warm to the touch, and she was breathing lightly. She trembled uncontrollably as her scar glowed even brighter.

Her lips quivered as she spoke. “The journal…it’s the key…burn it…”

Vincent froze in shock, his eyes widening. “What?” he questioned.

Camela's nails dug into his chest with the little strength she had left and she said urgently. “Burn the journal…it holds me…it holds everything…”

The ghost hissed sharply with venom. “Lies! She doesn’t understand. That book is the only thing keeping her alive. Burn it…and you’ll burn her too.”

Vincent shot his head up in disbelief. “Then why does she beg me for it?” he asked.

Silence fell over the room. For a brief moment, even the ghost didn't speak and paused its taunts.

From across the chamber, a glow began to rise.

The journal floated into view, its cover cracked and its pages oozing red ink while chains wrapped around it like snakes.

Camela's scream tore through the silence. “Don’t let it close again…Vincent, please!”

He lunged forward, slashing through the chains. Sparks flew and shadows shrieked. Each chain he broke writhed back into smoke.

The journal fell to the ground, its pages flapping open. The words glowed bright red, like flames: “She is mine.”

Vincent roared as he tore the pages away, but every page he ripped turned into smoke and returned to the book.

The ghost's voice echoed around him. “You can’t destroy what rewrites itself, fox. This book is her life. Every scream, every scar, every betrayal is written in ink that never fades. If you burn it…you burn her name.”

Camela's weak voice cut through in defiance. “Then let me burn…”

Vincent turned around sharply, terror written all over his face as he turned to her, saying, “No! Don’t you dare say that!”

Her eyes shimmered with tears as her lips quivered. “If it means freedom, if it means ending this…then let me turn to ashes.”

He dropped to his knees, holding her face gently between his hands. His voice trembled with emotion. “You think I would let you go like that? After everything? After bleeding for you? After tearing this cursed city apart just to find you?”

Her tears trickled down his fingers as she responded. “Vincent…please. I don’t want to scream anymore.”

The ghost whispered with a sense of satisfaction. "Look at how simple she is? She begs for freedom, and all it takes is fire. But you won’t do it, fox. You’re too self-centered. You'd rather keep her chained to her suffering than risk losing her. Because without her…you are nothing."

Vincent's golden eyes blazed as he glared into the darkness. "I would rather burn you," he responded firmly.

His claws ignited, flames spilling over the stone surface. The heat roared, filling the chamber with intensity.

The journal trembled, its pages flapping wildly. Shadows shrieked as the flames drew nearer.

Camela’s scar flared white-hot, causing her to convulse and choke on her screams. "Vincent…stop please! If you set it on fire now…I’ll burn too!"

He stopped in his tracks, his claws quivering in the fire.

The ghost let out a laugh that sounded like shattered glass. "There you have it. The choice: burn the book and watch her body burn to ash in your arms, or leave the book and she screams forever. What kind of savior are you?"

Vincent's chest rose and fell rapidly with desperation. Sweat streamed down his face as his flames wavered with uncertainty.

He turned back to Camela, his voice cracked with emotion. "Tell me what to do, Camela. You tell me…It’s up to you."

Her lips parted as she closed her eyes softly and spoke up, "Do it."

Vincent felt his heart shatter. His claws tightened until blood ran down his arms. Whispering through trembling lips, "Then forgive me."

With a roar, he slammed his claws down hard. Flames erupted across the journal. The pages screamed in agony as black smoke swirled upward, twisting into thousands of faces—men, women, children, all crying out Camela’s name.

The scar on her chest split open, glowing white and radiating light as she screamed louder than he had ever heard before.

Vincent made an effort to keep her down, tears streaming down his face.

“Stay with me! Camela, don’t leave me!” his voice sounded raw with emotion.

Her body twisted and thrashed as she clawed at his chest, leaving marks on his skin.

“Vincent…don’t stop…please don’t stop…!” she whispered.

The ghost screamed in anger. “You fool! You’ve doomed her!”

The flames surged higher, consuming the journal while the chains melted into ash.

Camela’s scream faded into silence; her body went limp in his arms.

The fire died out, leaving only ashes behind. The journal was gone.

Vincent held Camela tightly, shaking her limp body as he called out to her desperately. “Camela? Camela!”

Her head drooped against him; her lips were pale, and her breathing was faint.

He shook her more forcefully, his voice trembling. “Open your eyes! Look at me! I did what you asked!”

Her eyelids fluttered open for a moment, and a faint whisper escaped her lips. “…Vincent…”

A wave of relief washed over him as he pressed his forehead against hers, his tears soaking her skin.

“I’m here. I’m here,” he answered softly.

But then—her scar began to glow once more. Faint words appeared on her skin, burning like ink into her flesh: “You cannot erase what has been written.”

Vincent’s eyes widened in disbelief as his claws dug into the stone beneath him.

“No…No, I destroyed it!” he roared.

The ghost’s laughter erupted again, echoing like thunder around them. “You burned the book, but that was just the cage. The words live somewhere else: in her blood, in her bones, in her heart. You can’t burn what she has become.”

Vincent roared with fury as he lifted Camela into his arms and pressed her close to his chest.

“Then I’ll rip it out of you! I’ll tear away every chain you buried inside her until nothing is left!” he declared fiercely.

Camela's eyes fluttered open weakly, shimmering with tears as she whispered, "Vincent...I can still hear him..."

His heart shattered at her words. He pressed his lips to her forehead. "Then I'll ensure you only hear my voice," he said softly.

The ground shook beneath them.

A voice whispered one last time—it sounded soft, cruel, and endless:

"You thought fire could silence me. But fox...the only way to kill the story…" The stone cracked open. “…is to burn her."

The floor broke apart.

Camela screamed as chains erupted from the ground, yanking her away from his arms.

Vincent roared in desperation, clawing at the chains until his hands bled. “No you won't take her!”

But the chains dragged her down into darkness.

Her hand reached out for him, trembling and bloodied, screaming, "Vincent…!"

And then everything collapsed in silence.