Morning light spilled gently through the cracks of the wooden window, painting golden streaks across the modest room. Dust motes drifted lazily in the air, caught in the sunbeams that fell upon the small desk beside the bed.
Aelric slowly opened his eyes.
Ordinarily, one such as him — a progenitor vampire whose body had long surpassed mortal needs — would never require sleep. Yet, after the events of the past day, his body had instinctively succumbed to it. The bed beneath him was coarse and uneven, far from the silken luxury he once knew. But somehow, when he rose, he felt lighter — not healed, but… restored in spirit.
He sat cross-legged on the bed, his back straight, and closed his eyes. Crimson essence flickered faintly within his body as he peered inward.
His essence core, though still fractured, no longer felt as unstable as before. The deterioration had ceased, and he could sense faint regeneration — slow, but steady. After a few moments of silent inspection, he opened his eyes and said softly,
"Hex. Is this your doing?"
A familiar, mischievous voice echoed inside his mind.
[Yep, it's all thanks to me! As time passes and I recover, your recovery rate improves too — since, you know, we're bound by souls now.]
Aelric's gaze softened slightly. "Bound by souls," he repeated under his breath, as if tasting the words.
He knew well that his natural regeneration was leagues beyond most living beings. In his prime, as long as his heart remained intact, he could reconstruct his body from little more than blood mist. Now, even in this damaged state, his recovery was impressive — and with Hex's aid, the process was accelerating beyond expectation.
Hex's childish tone lingered in his mind, humming with playful satisfaction.
As Aelric contemplated this, faint amusement flickered in his eyes. To think that a mere artifact could synchronize with his essence so seamlessly. Yet he had lived long enough to know that nothing, not even miracles, came without reason.
He stood from the bed, with calm expression , and left the room.
⸻
Outside, the village of Yunlai was awake and alive.
The streets bustled with more activity than the previous day — merchants calling out their prices, cultivators in pale blue and grey robes passing through with hurried steps, and curious onlookers whispering rumors about the upcoming spiritual realm opening.
The air smelled faintly of smoke and roasted herbs.
Aelric walked silently among them, his presence subdued. His crimson eyes scanned every detail — the flow of Qi through cultivators, the faint traces of spiritual herbs in the market stalls, the hum of energy that seemed to weave through the very air.
Hex's voice chimed in again.
[What are you even doing, staring at everyone like that? You look like a lost ghost.]
Aelric ignored him, extending his perception ever so slightly. His essence moved like invisible mist, slipping through the streets unnoticed, probing the edges of the village's energy flow.
It was subtle — a map formed in his mind as he gathered faint traces of Qi concentration points. He noted the positions of several cultivators, their fluctuating essence signatures, and the faint spiritual formation that seemed to rest beneath Yunlai Village itself.
Hours passed.
When he finally returned to the inn, the sun had begun its descent, painting the sky with orange hues. He stepped back into his room, shutting the door quietly behind him.
The moment he sat on the bed, a cough escaped his lips — wet and sharp. A thin line of dark red blood ran down his chin, and he wiped it away with his sleeve.
"Just this simple task…" he muttered, his tone calm yet edged with frustration. "Now makes me cough blood."
The sight would have horrified anyone else — but to him, it was merely another reminder of limitation. He had lived through centuries of pain, of decay and rebirth. Weakness was unfamiliar, yet not intolerable.
He closed his eyes and began circulating his remaining energy, stabilizing the tremors within his essence core.
Inside his mind, Hex's tone grew worried — though still wrapped in his childish mischief.
[You really are insane, you know that? After all that effort I spent patching you up last night, you go and overdraw your essence again. What are you even trying to do? You're supposed to rest!]
Aelric didn't reply. His mind was focused inward, the faint hum of energy threading through his veins.
Hex continued muttering to himself.
[Unbelievable… even a cracked core like yours shouldn't be forced like that. One wrong move and boom — gone, erased! You'd make a great cautionary tale.]
Despite his tone, there was something genuine beneath the mockery — a faint, almost childlike concern.
Aelric continued his quiet recovery, unmoved.
Two hours passed in silence.
The air in the room was still, only the faint sound of his steady breathing filling the space. Then — a sound broke through the quiet.
Knock. Knock.
Footsteps approached his door, steady but hesitant. Aelric's crimson eyes opened slowly.
A voice spoke from the other side — respectful, slightly nervous, yet carrying a tone of reverence.
"This junior requests permission to talk with Senior Divine Doctor."
Aelric's lips curled upward ever so slightly, forming a faint smile.