"I know some families that are interested in the land and they will pay immediately." Zyra went on without a care. "I will handle it."
Uncle Job’s face underwent a dramatic transformation. The ’loving, sorrowful’ uncle vanished, as his face became as white as a ghost. His veins throbbed.
"S-Sell the land?!" Job stammered, his voice instantly dropping an octave. His hands shook as he quickly let go of her. "Zyra, what nonsense are you speaking? Even if I allowed you to do it, the other clan members would never agree! That is our collective farmland. It feeds the entire clan! We cannot just sell it off to solve your personal problems!"
Zyra let out a small, cold hum. "I’m not talking about all the clan’s land, Uncle. All I want is my mother’s share. Zena Scorpion’s portion of the land which she earned fairly by helping the clan expand."
Job swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down uncomfortably. A sweat broke out on his forehead. "Z-Zena? Your mother has been dead for years, Zyra! And... and she left no official will! According to clan law, since she passed away without a will and did not name you as her official heir, her lands had to be returned to the collective family pool. They cannot be passed down to you. You have no right to them; besides you failed to awaken the Scorpion bloodline! People are already wondering if you are truly her daughter."
Zyra sneered. "People? What people?" He was already starting to ruin her in small ways to stop her from chipping away at his benefits.
He quickly shifted his feet, eager to change the subject away from her mother’s inheritance. "But... well, if you are truly desperate for money, I suppose you could always sell your family house. The old mansion. Although," he added hastily, looking down his nose, "it’s quite run-down. You won’t get much money from it on the open market. And you can’t sell to an outsider. "
Zyra turned her body and began to walk down the stairs again. "Maybe I should sell it then," she said carelessly over her shoulder. "Money is money." She wanted to leave the town tonight. Haggling over land was useless.
Someday, when she was powerful enough, maybe she would return for it. But for now, it was more important to leave before the town folk pulled out fire torches.
Hearing this, Job’s eyes lit up with a sudden, greedy flash. He rushed down two steps after her. "If you do sell it, you should sell it to me! I’ll give you a fair price out of the goodness of my heart and in memory of my sister. No need to involve outsiders!"
Zyra paused her step mid-way on the stairs. She didn’t turn around, but a soft, derisive laugh escaped her lips. It was a sound filled with pure mockery. Sell it to him? He had probably been eyeing her family house for years, waiting for an opportunity to swallow it.
If not for being afraid of being drowned in saliva and judgement from others, he would have taken it forcefully.
Without saying a word, she continued to walk away.
"Zyra, stop right now!" Job shouted, his patience clearly wearing thin.
She didn’t stop.
Seeing that his gentle uncle act wasn’t working, Job ran down the remaining stairs and aggressively caught up to her. He snatched her hand for the third time.... but this time, it wasn’t a gentle grasp. His fingers dug into her wrist roughly, his grip tightening like a vise.
"I commanded you to wait!" Job snapped, his face twisting into something ugly. He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a low, urgent hiss. "You are not the Soul maiden anymore. If I were you, I would start being really nice to others going forward."
She snorted and replied dryly, "Thanks for the unsolicited advice."
He sneered, unable to hide his disdain for her. "Let me ask you something. Think carefully. Do you remember anything important that your parents told you before they died?"
Zyra’s brows folded together. She looked genuinely confused, her eyes darting to his tight grip on her wrist. "What are you talking about? I didn’t even see them on the morning before they set off on the mission which led to their death. How could they have told me anything?" Her mind raced like a dozen little ants in a panic. What was he looking for?
Job shook her arm slightly, his eyes wide with a strange, frantic hunger. "Did Zena give you anything? A token? A key? A book? Did she tell you anything important before she passed?"
Zyra tried to pull her hand back, but his grip was incredibly strong, anchoring her to the spot.
"Let go of me," Zyra demanded, her voice dropping into a dangerous, icy tone. "I may be weaker than you, but I can still scream."
Job stared at her, trying to read her expression to see if she was lying. He told her in an urgent whisper, "Your mother, Zena, told me years ago that you would remember something incredibly important on your resonance day. Something... something that would make the Scorpion bloodline powerful! What did she give you, Zyra? Tell me! You have failed to awaken, whatever it is, it can’t be useful to you anyway. My daughter Myra is only eight, and a Soul maiden. Whatever you have, isn’t it better to give it to her? We are all family after all."
Zyra stared at him, and in that moment, everything clicked. The sudden panic, the fake sorrow, the eagerness to buy her house, the sudden aggression...it was all for this. He had never asked her this question in her last life but made sure that she did not leave the clan and took possession of her house shortly before she was burned.
He didn’t care about her failed awakening; he cared about that something to do with the Scorpion bloodline.
"I said," Zyra repeated, each word dripping with venom, "LET. GO. Now, or I scream."
Job hesitated, looking at her cold, unyielding eyes. Slowly, reluctantly, he loosened his fingers and let her hand go.
Zyra immediately stepped back. She raised a slender finger and pointed directly at the strange, glowing red mark on her own head.
"Look at me, Uncle," Zyra said, her voice filled with mocking amusement. "Since I failed the ceremony and did not awaken the Scorpion bloodline, I am just a ’broken soul maiden,’ remember? I know absolutely nothing. Maybe my mom knew I would not awaken, so she took that secret with her to the grave."
She kept her face perfectly blank, but inside, she was sneering. Even if I did know the secrets of my bloodline, you would be the absolute last person on this earth I would ever tell.
"Damn it!" Job cursed loudly. Realizing he was getting nothing out of her, he completely dropped the facade. He violently kicked the air; his face contorted with rage and disgust. He looked at Zyra not as a beloved niece, but like she was a useless piece of trash that had ruined his plans. "Better watch yourself from now on. And I will find it Zyra, whatever it is."
Zyra didn’t give him another second of her time. She turned around and walked away, her footsteps light and steady as she left the hall grounds. Even without turning back, she could feel his furious, hateful eyes burning a hole straight into her back.
But as she walked into the bright light, Zyra actually smiled. For the first time since her rebirth, she saw hope. Whatever he was looking for, maybe it would be helpful to her.
Myra could rot in hell for all she cared.