UNDER THE BLOODY MOONLIGHT のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 21 - チャプター 30

I WELCOMED the wind gushing toward my face as if it was a long-awaited guest and let it tickle the unfamiliar feeling of excitement and nostalgia inside of me. How long was it was since I last rode a wolf? Or being with a wolf, in general. I know it is weird for me to say I missed this but I will let myself free just this once. Free. That has always been the feeling of being with Nero back then. Whenever I am with him, I do not need to hide everything, and that there is no need to pretend. Being with Nero is freeing and fleeting. That is my inevitable truth. I made myself believe that I will only be going to meet him because I have no choice but to do so. Today, I realized that that is absurd. All along, I believed he has his reasons, and I am willing to listen to them. I raised my head when I felt Silvanna stop midway. For some reason, I found myself being alert and suspicious. “What? Why did you stop?” It must be because of my last night’s experience. I thought there is danger ag

"CALM DOWN. They will get here in no time.” My feet stopped from pacing back and forth and looked at Amadeo, who is now sitting prettily by an old piece of wood, hitting a tobacco. I scoffed at him. “How are you so sure? Didn’t you see…” I gulped, “…what just happened to their home?” He puffed a cloud of smoke and calmly answered. “It was not your fault.” “How is that not my fault?” I scoffed in disbelief for the second time. I can’t help but to feel nervous. Nero’s reaction a while ago was the reaction I kind of expected already, and yet it is still nerve-wracking. What if they just left me alone here? What if… he does not want to see me again because of what happened? I looked over at Amadeo and glared. He clearly does not understand. This is the doing of Prometheus Valentin in an attempt to find me. Why he knows where I am planning to go exactly is genuinely freaking me out. There is just no way… he is that powerful. “And one more important thing,” I massaged my temple as I le

NERO "PROFICIS EX animo tuo, Nero!” [You are going out of your mind, Nero!] Silvanna’s voice thundered inside my head as we galloped our way through the narrow edges of the Oakcross mountain. She must have known what I was planning through reading my mind, or if not, through reading my actions. One thing is for sure, she is not happy with it. “Perge recta ire nec me iam sequere. Xerxes certiorem quid factum sit ad sarcinam occidentalem.” [Continue going straight and do not follow me anymore. Inform Xerxes of what happened at the West Pack.] I continued talking to her through our minds. This is how we communicate whenever we are still in our wolf form. The path we are taking is getting much steeper the more we go upwards, the winds are getting stronger and stronger matching the tension between Silvana and I. I purposely sprinted faster than her to prove a point, but she effortlessly sprinted much faster than I did, passing through me. “Tell him yourself. You are not going the

IT FELT like a dream, and then somehow it was not. It felt so real. I opened my eyes in a slow manner. It felt like waking up from a long dream, everything feels so light and dreamy… and yet, everything is registered in mono colors, just black and white. In front of me is an enormous castle-like building with a vast green field surrounding it. Due to curiosity, I tried to move my head to look around only to notice that I cannot move any body part with me. It was only then I noticed that I couldn't feel my face… my hands, my feet… my everything. I feel like a piece of cloud floating in the air. I had to change my first perception in this situation. It does not feel like waking up from a long dream anymore, rather, a feeling of having your consciousness while dreaming. It’s like a distant memory you are reliving in your head… only more realistic. “Matilda, make haste!” In a sudden motion, I find myself turning around unconsciously to look for wherever the voice is coming from.

“Mater, is it true that Aerith is a dangerous place?” My innocent question caused a subtle hitch in my mother's movements. The gentle rhythm of the comb gliding through my hair faltered even further as she absorbed my words. A single, knowing glance at the maids sent them hurrying out, leaving us alone in the vastness of my old, dark room. At first, I was confused, but I silently waited. In the comfortable silence, I watched her hands, pale as moonlight on glass, meticulously combing my dark locks, so like her own. Her eyes, the perfect shade of garnet, met mine in the mirror. A comforting smile touched her lips before she set the comb down on the vanity with a sigh, and seemed ready to answer my out-of-the-blue question. My mother’s movements have always been like the fluttering of a silver moth in the moonlight, all soft grace and quiet strength. “Is that what your father told you?” I am unsure how she knows, but I only nodded in response. A flicker of darkness danced in her