The Dread of Damned

I woke in the middle of the night, feeling refreshed. After a brief trip to the washroom, I returned to bed, feeling more refreshed. I had left the curtains open, allowing moonlight to spill through the large windows, casting a silvery glow across the room. The soft light wasn't too focused on the bed where I sat cross-legged, but it filled the space in a way that felt calming. I centered myself, calming my mind and body. First, I checked the condition of my blood and lungs. They seemed to have returned to normal, though a faint white mark remained at the spot I had refined earlier, a subtle reminder that I was far from done.

As I relaxed further, fireflies slowly entered my view, dancing in the moonlight. Their glow was silver, as if they were crafted from the purest material. Curious, I lifted my hand and formed a small net from my essence, hoping to catch them. But as soon as the net touched them, the fireflies dispersed, slipping through as if they were untouchable. It seemed they could not be captured or forced, for they would vanish the moment they were confined.

The net dissolved into white smoke in my hand. I had thought that since my power was a manifestation of the same essence the fireflies were made of, I might be able to capture them. Clearly, I had been mistaken.

I set my hands down, releasing a thin stream of essence near my chest. As the temperature in that spot rose slightly, a few fireflies gathered around, drawn by the warmth. After a moment, I slowly raised my hand and made a small cut on my wrist. Silver blood emerged, and I controlled the flow of my essence so that the wound wouldn't heal instantly. The fireflies, drawn by the glint of silver, flooded toward the cut. Some attempted to enter my bloodstream, though many dispersed upon trying. The few that succeeded traveled along my veins, but I did not guide them to my silver heart. Instead, I directed them toward a lung I had refined earlier.

As they moved through my blood, some fireflies dissipated—overwhelmed by the flow, or crushed by the pressure—turning to smoke before they could reach their destination. Only a handful survived the journey, merging into my lung. This time, there was no intense impact like when I had refined my blood. It was a soft warmth, comforting. The essence reinforced the refined area, though the change was minimal; the white spot looked much the same, only slightly more polished.

This process was inefficient. It would take a long time if I continued like this. I gathered more fireflies and repeated the process, achieving almost identical results.

Then, a new idea struck me. I gathered the fireflies once more, but instead of using a net or my blood, I opened my mouth, allowing them to enter with the air I inhaled. Almost none of them dissipated this way, and the amount of essence I absorbed was far greater than before. The white spot on my lung became more defined.

I repeated the process over and over, feeling a comforting sensation spread through me as I refined that single point of white again and again. Eventually, the fireflies began to fade as the first rays of sunlight spilled through the window, signaling the start of a new day.

The once-faint white spot on my left lung was now almost solid, bringing a sense of satisfaction. The process was painstakingly slow, and I realized it would take an incredible amount of time to refine my entire being to white. Only now did I fully understand why obtaining silver blood from the start—or even reaching a silver heart in three months—was considered an anomaly that had left many speechless. The moon's rays played a vital role in this refinement. Without their aid, fireflies alone would never suffice.

A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts, followed by Vasen's voice.

"If you're up, we can leave for your lesson with Yelena. Afterward, I'll take you to meet your sparring partner, my prince." His tone was polite, but familiar, making me smile as I slid off the bed and opened the door.

"Let's go, then," I replied, a smirk playing on my lips.

We walked down the hallway, eventually stopping in front of the door to the room where I had received my last class. Vasen opened the door, stepping aside for me to enter.

"Enjoy your lesson," he said as I walked in, his voice fading as the door closed behind me. I turned to face the stern woman standing in the center of the room, looking as composed as ever.

"It took you long enough to schedule another class," she said, her voice sharp but with a teasing undertone.

"Three months," I replied, walking toward the center of the room, a smile in my eyes concealing the true thoughts swirling in my mind.