Amber smiled and waved at Soren, her fiery-red ponytail swaying briskly, but for some reason, Soren felt that behind those bright, sparkling eyes of hers lay something else besides enthusiasm–it was as if she were carefully sizing up a newly acquired treasure, her gaze carrying an almost imperceptible fixation.
“Soren, right?”
Amber smiled and stepped two paces closer, slipping the oilpaper package behind her back.
The warmth in her bright eyes gradually faded, replaced by a scrutinizing intensity.
Her gaze swept over Soren, finally resting on Eula’s hand which was clutching her hemline, the smile at the corner of Amber’s lips tightening almost imperceptibly.
“Since you’re Eula’s friend, you’re my friend too.
I was actually just about to invite Eula for an outing in the countryside.
Would you like to join us?”
As Amber spoke, her fingertips tightened around the oilpaper package behind her, crumpling the paper corners into deep creases.
Soren looked at the unconcealable urgency in her eyes and felt his chest tighten.
Just as he was about to find an excuse to decline, Amber had already grabbed Eula’s arm, shaking it with a voice as sweet as honey.
“Eula, look, Soren hasn’t even said anything, so he’s definitely willing!
The wind over the dandelion sea in the outskirts is perfect today, and we can even pick some dandelions to bring back and brew wine.”
Left with no choice under her badgering, Eula glanced at Soren’s tense profile and eventually nodded.
“Alright then.
But we must come back early; don’t stay out too late.”
Amber immediately beamed, pulling Eula toward the door.
As she passed Soren, she turned back and cast him a “friendly” look; however, the coldness in that gaze pricked him like a needle.
“Soren, hurry up!
Don’t make us wait for you.”
The three of them made their way to the outskirts.
Amber kept her arm linked through Eula’s the entire time, chattering away without pause.
Her topics always revolved around a past shared “only by the two of them”–reminiscing about climbing trees to pick apples together as kids, or how Eula had shielded her from falling rocks during their last morning practice.
Every sentence hammered home her intimacy with Eula, and the occasional glances she shot toward Soren carried an unmasked exclusion.
Upon reaching the edge of the dandelion sea, Amber suddenly halted and pointed toward a nearby low slope.
“Eula, I remember there’s a patch of wild Sweet Flowers behind that slope.
Why don’t we go pick some?
Didn’t you say you wanted to make Sweet Madame?”
Just as Eula was about to agree, Amber turned to look at Soren, her smile carrying a hint of calculation.
“Soren, could you do me a favor and fetch some water from the creek over there?
We might need to wash some fruit later, so I’ll have to trouble you.”
Soren’s heart sank.
That creek was deep inside the woods, highly isolated.
Amber was clearly trying to send him away to make her move on him alone.
Just as he was about to refuse, Amber leaned in close to Eula, her voice turning soft and aggrieved.
“Eula, look, it’s hard for me to fetch water while carrying all these bags.
Soren is a guy, so it shouldn’t be a problem for him to help out a bit, right?”
Eula didn’t think much of it and simply said to Soren:
“Be careful, then, and come back quickly.”
Soren had no choice.
Clutching his shirt hem, he headed toward the creek.
The light in the woods grew increasingly dim, and the wind rustling through the leaves sounded like someone panting right behind him.
Every step he took was exceptionally cautious, his palms slick with sweat.
Just as he reached the edge of the creek, footsteps echoed behind him.
Amber was standing in the shadows of the trees, still holding the oilpaper package.
The smile on her face had vanished entirely, her eyes as cold as ice.
“You certainly are obedient, coming over just because you were told to.”
Soren took a step back, staring at her warily.
“What do you want to do?”
Soren’s voice trembled as he stumbled backward.
His back slammed hard against an old oak tree; the rough bark scraped painfully against him, but it was far from as piercing as the bone-chilling dread in his chest.
“What do I want?”
Amber laughed.
It was no longer her usual cheerful smile, but rather like sugar coated in poison, sickeningly sweet yet bitter.
She strode two paces forward, her brown hair swaying in the wind.
The next instant, she lunged forward, pinning Soren brutally to the ground.
Her knee jammed hard into his midsection, the force so immense Soren could barely breathe.
She pinned his wrists, squeezing his knuckles until they turned white.
“Soren, you shouldn’t have gotten close to her.”
Amber’s voice dropped, the light in her eyes freezing like an icy lake.
Soren struggled desperately, his shoulders scraping painfully against the stones on the ground, but Amber’s weight pressed down on him like a massive boulder, leaving him unable to budge.
Right then, he felt a sudden chill against his neck.
A small dagger pressed against his skin, its sharp blade freezing him instantly in place.
“Don’t move, or I’ll make sure you die a miserable death.”
Amber leaned in close to his ear, her warm breath carrying a bloody promise.
Her voice was soft yet vicious, like a snake flicking its tongue.
“You think Eula keeps you around because she truly cares?
It’s nothing but a fleeting novelty to her.”
“But I’m different.
I can give her the most special things.”
“For example, a gift made out of you.”
Soren’s pupils dilated in terror.
Gurgling noises of a plea for help escaped his throat, but Amber gave him no opportunity.
Exerting pressure with her wrist, she plunged the dagger straight into his neck.
The cold blade sliced through his veins, and warm blood immediately gushed out, spilling down his neck, soaking his collar, and splattering across Amber’s face.
Sticky blood clung to her skin, but Amber seemed entirely unfazed.
Instead, she narrowed her eyes, a sickly, pathological smile spreading across her face.
She watched as the light faded from Soren’s eyes, watched his chest rise and fall with decreasing strength, and watched the red pool expand on the ground, blooming like a wildly blossoming flower.
“See?
Isn’t this wonderful?”
Amber gently stroked Soren’s blood-soaked cheek, smearing the crimson from her fingertips across his skin, her tone dripping with satisfaction.
“By making you into a gift for Eula, she will never think about anyone else again.
We can go back to how we used to be.”
“Just the two of us.
How perfect.”
Soren’s consciousness slipped away.
The final sight that met his eyes was Amber’s blood-splattered face, and the absolute, manic obsession swirling deep within her gaze.
….
Squatting amidst the Sweet Flowers, Eula had just touched a blooming petal when her chest suddenly clenched tight–it felt as though something had seized her heart; a wave of panic crept up her spine, leaving even her fingertips cold.
She instinctively stopped, looking up in the direction Soren had gone.
The wind swept through the woods, rustling the leaves.
Even though this was a familiar countryside, it felt suffocatingly oppressive at this moment.
“I don’t know why…
but I feel so incredibly uneasy.”
Eula murmured to herself, her fingertips unconsciously pinching the petal, leaving pale yellow pollen on the back of her hand, but it did nothing to soothe her.
Frowning, she shook her head, trying to suppress the inexplicable dread.
It was only Soren fetching water, and Amber was nearby.
What could possibly go wrong?
She was probably just overthinking it.
Albeit the panic only intensified, surging like a tide, making her restless and unable to sit still.
She stood up, casting her gaze back into the depths of the woods.
Amber had said the creek Soren went to was just over there; by all accounts, he should have returned by now.
“Surely…
nothing has happened, right?”
Biting her lip, she ultimately couldn’t restrain herself.
She picked up her small basket and walked slowly in the direction Soren had taken.
With every step forward, the dread in her chest grew heavier.
She didn’t walk fast, but her eyes were locked onto the shadows of the trees ahead, her breathing hushed.
The wind swept past her ears, carrying the occasional chirp of a bird, but to her, they sounded like ominous warnings.
“Soren?
Amber?”
She called out tentatively, her voice drifting through the woods, only to be answered by a hollow echo.
Eula’s heart began to beat faster, her knuckles turning white around the basket’s handle; she had never felt this way before, as if she were about to lose something precious, making her very steps falter.
Taking a deep breath, she quickened her pace, her mind consumed by a single thought: find Soren, and make sure he is safe.
The wind in the forest suddenly died down.
Eula had barely moved forward two steps when she saw Amber stride out from the shadows of the trees.
She was holding something bulky in her arms, her steps unusually light, her fiery-red ponytail swaying with a strange, conspicuous bounce.
“Amber?
What are you doing here?
Where’s Soren?”
Eula spoke with a furrowed brow, and the moment her words fell, her eyes landed on Amber’s arms.
Just as she was about to step forward to question her, Amber arrived right in front of her.
The next second, Eula’s pupils dilated.
Her blood seemed to freeze solid in an instant.
She stumbled backward uncontrollably, nearly colliding with a tree trunk behind her.
What Amber was cradling in her arms was Soren’s severed head.
The boy’s eyes were still wide open, rolled back and devoid of any life.
A few splatters of dried, dark blood stained his cheeks, and even the loose strand of hair that usually fell across his forehead was matted to his skin with blood.
Most striking of all was the pair of horns on his head that symbolized his race.
The tips of his horns were still smeared with dark blood; their once-warm, gentle luster was now reduced to cold, lifeless desolation.
Yet Amber seemed entirely blind to Eula’s deathly pale face.
She leaned in closer, presenting the head with both hands like a proud child offering a prize.
Her face bore her usual bright, enthusiastic smile, her voice bursting with a manic eagerness to please.
“Eula, look!
I prepared a gift for you.
Do you like it?”
Eula felt her stomach heave.
She slapped a hand over her mouth, her knuckles turning white from the force, her whole body trembling uncontrollably.
She didn’t dare look at those lifeless eyes again, yet the image was seared into her mind, impossible to erase… the boy who had been eating sweet osmanthus porridge at her house yesterday was now nothing but a cold, severed head, cradled in Amber’s hands like a toy.
“Amber…
what… what are you doing?!”
Eula’s voice shook violently, tears welling up uncontrollably and blurring her vision.
“Why would you do this?
What…
what did Soren ever do wrong?”
The smile on Amber’s face faded a bit, but she continued to hold the head, her voice gaining a layer of obsessive earnestness.
“He didn’t do anything wrong, but he shouldn’t have gotten close to you.”
She lightly shook the head in her hands, her eyes overflowing with gratification.
“Now everything is perfect.
Nobody can disturb us anymore.
Eula, we can go back to how we were before.
Just the two of us.
Isn’t this what you wanted?”
Looking into Amber’s bright yet utterly mad eyes, Eula felt a bone-chilling shiver course up from the soles of her feet.
Amber leaned in, using her leather gloves, wet with the smell of fresh blood, to gently caress Eula’s cheek.
“I love you, you know.
And he is the perfect testament to our love.”
…
P.S: The MC has the ability to “reload saves.” However, because he belongs to the incubus race, anyone who gets close to him will uncontrollably fall in love with him and exhibit pathological behaviors toward him; you can think of it as triggering a passive, charm skill.