Chapter 143: The Curse of Cain

The scorching sun had already set, and a tranquil dusk draped over the earth—this was the time belonging to the creatures of the night.

Private Yezakura Academy lay shrouded in darkness, the silent campus completely deserted. Yet at this very moment, it welcomed an unexpected visitor.

"Such a nostalgic place," Xingyu murmured softly, gazing quietly at the hushed campus. "Those peaceful times of the past are truly missed, yet those days can never be reclaimed."

Xingyu strolled leisurely through the empty grounds, reminiscing about everything before him. "A full hundred years, and yet this place has remained undestroyed. How astonishing." Private Yezakura Academy had not changed its appearance in the slightest; the same architecture, the same pathways, bore merely a touch of weathered antiquity. It felt as though the events of his memories had transpired just yesterday, filling Xingyu with profound wonder. A place he had expected to have vanished entirely was preserved intact, as though a century of time had barely touched these grounds.

Xingyu walked easily along the academy's path, a faint smile gracing the corners of his lips, perhaps recalling some warm memory.

Just as Xingyu was wandering at ease, an ethereal, low hum drifted from an unknown origin, echoing across the entire campus and lingering in Xingyu's ears. In the stillness of the academy, it sounded exceptionally plaintive.

"Inhaling the fragrance of blood, I find the hall of requiem.
A landscape of utter ruin, ghosts singing wildly.
Black rosemary blossoms, vines winding and growing.
Souls gaze into the distance, faithful to the blood-red moonlight.
Inhaling the fragrance of blood, I find the hall of requiem.
The long-haired vampire queen pushes open the dust-sealed window.
The shadows of withered branches reflect upon her face, as pure as a maiden.
Her plaintive voice blends with the undead in song.
My beloved, do you still remember my appearance?
On the night of my burial, were you consumed by grief?

Inhaling the fragrance of blood, I find the hall of requiem.
Sun and moon wax and wane brilliantly, yet I behold only the moon.
She possesses a scent that causes one to become intoxicated—the richness of fresh blood and the pure fragrance of silver.
The queen chants in a low voice, a flower with a broken stem lying beside her feet.
They favor places dark and cold, hiding near the withered trees of the abyss.
Every dead-silent night, listening to the secret murmur of blood beneath the earth.
They love strange chants, much like the songs of wandering spirits.
Are they singing of extravagant revenge or desolate despair?
My distant lover, do you remember my appearance?
When I looked down upon my own funeral, why did I never meet your gaze?"

Hearing this voice, Xingyu's mind was involuntarily captivated. His footsteps instinctively chased after the sound, hurrying forward. For reasons unknown, a voice echoed incessantly within his heart: find this voice, find the master of this voice; she must be of paramount importance to him.

He knew not how many buildings he passed, nor how many pathways he traversed, yet the singing remained as ethereal and plaintive as at the very beginning. The distance between Xingyu and the song seemed not to have closed in the least; instead, it appeared increasingly remote. Xingyu quickened his pace again and again, but to no avail. In the end, he could only catch fleeting glimpses of a shadowy black figure—vanishing, appearing, vanishing once more. Yet no matter how swift Xingyu's speed, he ultimately failed to find the source of the sound, and could no longer even distinguish the direction from which it came.

"Damn it!" At some point, the ethereal hum finally became untraceable, vanishing completely from Xingyu's ears. Xingyu sank helplessly to his knees, his heart filled with despairing loss. "Why? Why can't I find it?" Unreconciled, Xingyu strained his ears to listen once more, but captured not the slightest sound. The entire campus relapsed into dead silence, as if the ethereal song from moments before had never existed at all, merely an illusion of his own making.

Xingyu stood frozen in place, motionless, until the world was swallowed by heavy darkness, devoid of even a sliver of light. Then, at the distant horizon, a faint glimmer of dawn pierced the sky, rousing Xingyu from his trance. His heart brimming with reluctance, he wished to continue the search, but ultimately had no choice but to retreat. To a vampire, sunlight remains forever the deadliest poison, unchanged even after the passage of a century.

Shortly after Xingyu's departure, a dark silhouette materialized at the very spot he had just occupied, floating silently in midair. Dressed in a black Victorian gown and holding a black parasol, her entire face was concealed beneath the umbrella. The person beneath the parasol parted her lips, and the soft hum drifted forth once more, ethereal and plaintive. Before the first rays of dawn completely awakened the darkness, the dark figure vanished just as quietly, as though she had never been there at all.

Two people, standing beneath the same sky, yet seeming to belong to different worlds, destined never to intersect.

Gradually, the sky grew brighter. Sunlight chased away the night and awakened the sleeping populace. At last, the lively, laughing figures of children appeared within the ancient campus—the new generation of students arriving for class. Their youthful, vibrant faces formed a striking contrast with the ancient architecture.

"My Lady, why won't you go see him? You haven't seen each other in a hundred years, and it is a rare thing that he has yet to give up." Inside the headmaster's office of this enduring century-old academy, a silver-haired elder stood respectfully behind a desk, quietly brewing black tea. Behind him sat a silver-haired young woman in silence, her features veiled by a black gauze. The young woman in black listened quietly to the laughter drifting from outside the window, offering no reply.

The heavy curtains acted like a barrier, severing the headmaster's office from the outside world with absolute clarity, blocking out the vibrant, youthful clamor and the bright sunlight. They transformed the office into an entirely different realm—gloomy and silent.

"Ultimately, we do not belong to the same world. What good would it do to see him? Better to let him abandon all hope now," the young woman in black murmured, her eyes vacant and devoid of the slightest luster.

"That hardly sounds like something My Lady would say," the white-haired elder replied, shaking his head. "The My Lady I know has never been one for hesitation. My Lady, you are lying to yourself. If not, you would not have gone outside; you haven't stepped a single step out of this room in over a decade."

Hearing the elder's words, the young woman in black fell silent, then smiled bitterly. "Perhaps you are right, Ang. I am indeed deceiving myself, pretending that I have nothing more to do with him, that the two of us can never walk the same path. Yet deep within my heart, it is still entirely filled with his shadow." She paused, falling silent once more before continuing, "But can I truly appear before him now? Over the span of a hundred years, I have had countless opportunities to release him from that cage, yet I never took them. I have lost the resolve to see him. Isn't this current state quite good? No one will ever hurt anyone again."

"Because of that curse?" the elder asked cautiously, a pained expression crossing his face. This was a sorrow hidden deep within Ang's own heart; because of that damned curse, even My Lady's last remaining shred of freedom had been stripped away, leaving him to watch helplessly in his perpetual powerlessness.

"Indeed, because of this curse inherited by the Dracula clan from our progenitor," the young woman in black gently lifted the black gauze veiling her face. Had Xingyu been present, he would have rejoiced boundlessly, for this young woman was the very person he had sought through endless hardship—the Princess of the Blood who had fled the ancient vampire castle, the former Blood Princess, Lilith. Yet at this moment, a face that should have been breathtakingly beautiful was covered in spreading, blood-red veins, rendering it ferocious and terrifying. "To think that the curse borne by Cain, the progenitor of the Dracula clan, would manifest upon my own body. This is the affliction suffered by Cain, a mark bestowed by the gods. Those cursed shall be resented by the earth itself, fated to wander the world in eternal loneliness."

"What meaning does this curse hold for you? The vampires naturally possess endless life, and the world of the blood kin belongs to the night sky. What does it matter if you are abandoned by the earth?" Ang said indignantly.

"Perhaps so," I gently shook my head. "Yet no one can guarantee that this is the entirety of the curse, nor can anyone promise that it will not bring other calamities upon me. I dare not gamble. Therefore, it is best we do not meet again. Without a meeting, there is no more suffering, is there?" A smile touched the corners of my lips as I spoke slowly.

"Yet I can hear it—your heart is bleeding." Ang watched the smile on my lips, his heart aching so intensely he could barely speak. Having endured so much hardship, having come so close to the end, why—why must such a damned curse emerge? Why did this curse have to befall My Lady? A curse that even the Prince himself never suffered—why has it manifested once more? Oh Fate, how profoundly unjust you are! I curse you with my very life, you who impose this tragic destiny upon My Lady! Ang roared furiously in the silence of his heart.

"It matters not; I am already accustomed to it. No matter how many more wounds I suffer, I shall no longer feel pain," I said indifferently. "Ang, I have finally mustered my resolve; you must not undo it." I lowered the black veil once more, gazing quietly out the window in a daze.

"As you wish, My Lady. I shall take my leave." Ang bowed respectfully and departed the darkened room.

Left alone in the chamber, I let out a soft sigh after a long while. I opened the locket hanging at my chest, gently stroking the photograph treasured safely within—displaying the shy smile of a boy. "We... can never go back." (To be continued)