Bab 49: The Meeting (1)

Fynn screams, his arms flailing as he shields his face, only to stop abruptly and inspect his hands with a mixture of confusion and fear. His dark-blond hair partially obscures one of his crimson-glowing eyes, the vivid red light casting eerie shadows across his face. “What is going on?!” His wide eyes dart between his glowing hands and the endless expanse of red around him. His mouth hangs agape in disbelief, his voice trembling with uncertainty. Is this summoning so shocking to him? I ponder this thought as I observe the scene before me with the same neutrality that Eriksson always carries.

The others—Aston, Eriksson, and Viena—remain seated, their gazes fixed on Fynn. The red-blooded and brown-blooded are absent, likely because I have not yet entered their vessels, and the colorless ones—I have yet to drink their blood. My gaze drifts into the infinite crimson beyond this place, my thoughts momentarily lost.