Beyond Redemption のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 141 - チャプター 150

The air was cold when I woke up. My breath came out in soft clouds against the silver light of dawn. The ground beneath me was damp, the scent of earth and rain thick in my lungs. For a moment, I couldn’t tell if I was alive or still trapped in some kind of dream. My body ached, my skin burned where the marks lay — one glowing faintly silver, the other pulsing dark red like a slow heartbeat.“Edward,” I whispered, my voice hoarse. No answer. Only the echo of my own voice swallowed by the mist.I pushed myself up, wincing as pain shot down my arm. My dress was torn, dirt clinging to the hem, my hair matted against my face. The temple was nowhere in sight — just endless forest stretching in every direction, shrouded in fog. The silence was wrong. It felt… too quiet. Like the world was holding its breath.Something crackled behind me. I spun around, heart racing, only to find a trail of light — silver dust glimmering faintly on the ground, leading deeper into the forest. My fingers brush

The Dawn Before the StormThe air was heavy with ash and moonlight when I woke again. I was lying on the forest floor, the faint scent of rain clinging to my hair, the sound of the river murmuring somewhere nearby. The pain in my chest had dulled, but something else had taken its place — a quiet, steady pulse that didn’t belong to me alone.Edward sat a few feet away, his elbows resting on his knees, staring at nothing. His clothes were torn, streaked with blood and dirt, but his expression was worse than any wound — hollow, distant.For a moment, I just watched him. The rise and fall of his chest, the way his jaw flexed when he thought I wasn’t looking. He was always so strong, so sure of himself. Seeing him like this — fractured — scared me more than any prophecy ever could.“Edward,” I said softly.His head turned, eyes meeting mine. The silver glow in them had dimmed to something softer, almost human. “You should still be resting.”“I’ve rested enough.” I pushed myself up, wincin

The Weight of the WavesThe world didn’t end with a crash. It ended in silence.When I hit the water, there was no pain—only stillness. The golden waves swallowed me whole, pulling me down into an endless, glowing abyss. My dress floated around me like silk, my hair fanning out as though time itself had forgotten to move. I didn’t know if I was drowning or simply suspended in something far older than air.And then, a whisper.Kora.Edward’s voice. Distant, echoing, like it was being carried through water and light. I twisted, searching for him, but all I could see were fragments drifting through the liquid gold—images of the past, of wolves kneeling beneath the moon, of women who looked like me standing beside them.I wasn’t alone down here.Hands—soft, shimmering, feminine—rose from the golden depths, reaching toward me. Their faces flickered in the water: ancient Lunas, their eyes glowing silver-blue, their mouths moving in perfect unison."The bond has chosen."“No,” I tried to sp

The Gate’s WhisperThe forest grew silent, too silent. No wind, no rustling leaves, not even the call of night creatures. Just that low hum—steady, rhythmic, and wrong.Edward moved in front of me without a word, blade drawn, his body tense and ready. Aaron’s eyes glowed faintly in the dark, the mark on his neck pulsing like it was answering the same call that echoed through the trees.I could feel the marks under my skin responding too—burning hotter, twisting together until my pulse wasn’t my own.“The Gate’s servants,” Aaron murmured, voice low. “They guard the path to the shrine.”Edward didn’t take his eyes off the shadows. “What kind of servants?”“The kind that used to be alive.”The air rippled. Shapes began to form in the mist—figures, tall and thin, their bodies shrouded in black cloth that moved like smoke. Their faces were hidden, but their eyes glowed faintly gold, the same shade as my mark.“Kora,” Edward whispered, “stay behind me.”Before I could answer, the first one

The Fractured MoonThe forest was too quiet. The air felt heavy, like it was holding its breath, waiting for something to shatter. Every sound seemed sharper—the creak of the trees, the crackle of leaves underfoot, the soft rasp of Edward’s breathing beside me.We walked in silence for a while, the broken temple fading behind us, though I could still feel it pulsing at the edge of my mind. That presence—the Gate, the Warden—none of it was gone. It was inside me now.Aaron trudged behind us, one hand pressed against his ribs where the Warden’s blast had struck him. “You do realize,” he said finally, “that the thing meant you when it said the balance must choose.”Edward stopped walking. His voice was low, dangerous. “And you think I didn’t hear that?”Aaron gave him a pointed look. “You heard it, sure. But did you understand it?”I stepped between them before the tension could spiral again. “Enough. Both of you.” My voice came out sharper than I meant, but I didn’t care. “I don’t need