Kapitel 29: THE FAKE MOON

"I know exactly who you are and why you're the way you are."

Adrian remained silent, his gaze fixed on her. He was aware that she was cognizant of his curse, referring to him as "moon-cursed." He withheld any response, curious to learn more about the individuals in question.

"I'm all ears, then," Adrian replied, a sense of intrigue beginning to envelop him.

"I'm Alaya. My ancestors were blessed by the moon, and I hail from the Wisdom Path," she introduced herself. As she spoke, Adrian's thoughts raced through his memory, searching for any records or information regarding such beings. He was vaguely aware of their existence but knew very little about the extent of their powers.

"Don't fret too much; I don't intend any harm to you," Alaya reassured Adrian. "You see, I've assembled this group of people for a very particular purpose, and I've called you here for that reason as well." As she spoke, the man who had been in the kitchen appeared, bearing a cup of green tea for Alaya.

"That still doesn't clarify why you were harassing me or how you're connected to Katharine," Adrian inquired, his aura beginning to seep out. Though not overwhelmingly powerful, its density conveyed the sensation of an ancient presence.

Sensing his aura, the other three individuals took a step back and prepared for a confrontation. However, Alaya merely raised her hand, causing Adrian's aura to dissipate. With a snap of her fingers, all sound in the vicinity seemed to vanish, and Adrian felt as though he had been severed from the outside world.

"You are weak, Adrian."

Adrian quickly checked his phone to confirm whether she was responsible for the disruption, and indeed, all signals had vanished.

"The last time someone told me I was weak, he begged for his life," Adrian replied with a frigid tone.

"If you're referring to Henry, then yes, his fate surprised me, but rest assured, I surpass him in strength by a considerable margin," Alaya responded calmly as she took a sip of her green tea.

Adrian's gaze remained fixed on Alaya, his earlier playful demeanor giving way to a more serious expression. "You still haven't answered my question," he reiterated, waiting for a direct response regarding her connection to Katharine and her motives.

"Katharine is merely a human attempting to harness our powers. I required her assistance for certain tasks, so I manipulated her," Alaya responded deliberately, taking a sip of her tea.

"What makes you think I won't walk out of here?" Adrian questioned, his voice devoid of emotion.

"You can't," Alaya began to respond, but her words were abruptly cut short as Adrian forcefully clicked his cane on the ground. The sound dome she had created lost its effect, and the silence that had enveloped them dissipated.

"You've tested my patience repeatedly," Adrian warned, standing up from his seat. "Don't push me, Alaya. You don't know me." With that, he made a move as if to leave.

"But I do know you," Alaya retorted. "I'm not entirely sure about the details of how you killed Henry, as it's still somewhat unclear to me, but I can't allow you to walk away like this." She retrieved a small bracelet from her pocket and put it on. As soon as she wore it, a strange sensation coursed through Adrian's body.

Adrian pivoted and fixed his gaze on Alaya, his eyes drawn to the bracelet on her wrist. "A relic?" he inquired, recognizing the telltale effects of such powerful objects.

"You've certainly come well-prepared," Adrian acknowledged, his strength beginning to wane as the relic's influence took hold.

"I need you for my plan to succeed. I can assure you there are no hidden agendas; I simply need your assistance," Alaya reassured Adrian as she lightly touched his shoulder. Despite the seemingly gentle pat, Alaya's profound weakness forced him back into his seat.

"This relic is called the Fake Moon. As the name implies, it simulates the full moon, which happens to be your weakness. I won't entertain questions on how I came to know this," Alaya stated. She adopted a polite tone as she settled back into her seat. "To ensure there's no animosity between us, I'll pose the question again: Will you assist me?"

"I'll inquire about the details later," Adrian replied and made his way to the door. It wasn't until he had walked about a kilometer that the effect of the Fake Moon relic finally dissipated, and his strength began to return. He made a mental note of the relic's range, realizing it extended to only one kilometer.

….

"Why'd you just let him off the hook like that? Dude disrespected us," the bald guy vented, his voice laced with frustration.

"No need to get worked up. Adrian had every reason to react that way. I would have been concerned if he had been passive. This just demonstrates that we understand how to handle him," Alaya remarked, removing her bracelet and stowing it securely in her inner pocket.

Suddenly, Alaya clenched her wrist, the one where the bracelet had been. It had transformed into a mummified hand, devoid of any signs of vitality. The others in the room didn't react to this transformation, as they were well aware of how this relic worked; after all, they were the ones who had stolen it in the first place.

Using relics was not a straightforward affair. Each time a relic was employed, it exacted a price. Different relics had varying consequences, and this particular one had a penchant for sapping vitality. The more a relic was employed, the more potent its effects were and the greater the toll it took on the user.

The group of individuals gathered in the room was well-versed in these consequences, having delved into the art of relic usage. They knew that the line between wielding immense power and suffering dire repercussions was a thin one. As they watched Alaya's mummified hand, they understood that even with their knowledge, the relics they sought could be a double-edged sword.

"We'll discuss the finer points later when he arrives. For now, go and get yourself checked," Alaya said, rising from her seat. She made her way to her own room upstairs, leaving a parting comment for the red-haired man, whose face had been severely disfigured.