Theia's voice echoed through the quiet street.
Meeting the gazes that were either astonished or still vigilant, she took a deep breath and began her tale.
“I came from the Elven Forest.”
Her voice carried a faint, barely perceptible tremble, yet it remained clear.
“On the day of my coming-of-age ceremony when I turned twenty-five...”
“My bloodline... unexpectedly awakened.”
In her mind's eye, she seemed to see the scene of that day once more.
A grand ceremony, surrounded by friends and family, with moonlight draped like a veil.
Then, without warning.
A burning pain seared her eyes.
Everything in her field of vision was instantly shrouded in a lingering, blood-red hue.
All the congratulations and laughter around her came to a screeching halt.
They turned into horrified gasps and ill-concealed disgust.
“My eyes... right under everyone's gaze.”
“They changed from emerald green to the red they are now.”
The days that followed were like falling into an ice cavern.
Her once-close companions avoided her, their eyes looking at her as if she were a monster.
Her respected mentor's eyes held only cold scrutiny, which eventually hardened into a chilling intent to kill.
“They said I had defiled the noble bloodline of the elves.”
“That I was a blemish... that had to be purged.”
She pursed her pale lips.
“There was no trial, no chance to defend myself.”
“I was stripped of all my honors and my weapons were confiscated.”
“Like a stray dog... I was miserably driven out of the Elven Forest.”
Her voice grew softer and softer, every word steeped in her past despair.
“After that... came wandering.”
“In the human city-states, half-demons are treated worse than stray dogs.”
“Spat on, driven away, pelted with stones... nowhere would take me in.”
“It felt like there was no place for me in the entire world.”
Theia looked up, deep pain and loneliness swirling in her blood-red eyes.
She paused, as if recalling a tiny yet crucial moment.
“Until one time... at the entrance of a filthy alley in a human city-state.”
“I heard a few human children playing, singing a nursery rhyme.”
She closed her eyes, and her ethereal voice softly rang out.
The song drifted gently through the cool morning air:
“‘Beneath the crown where moonlight cannot reach, blood waters the branches of power.’
“‘Legend says there is a city on the other side called Avalon, where there is no oppression, and no distinction between rich and poor.’
“‘The shadow of the demon cannot reach it, and the bells of freedom ring day and night...’”
Her singing was very soft, yet it carried a strange, piercing quality, as if it could seep into one's heart.
The tense atmosphere around them relaxed imperceptibly.
The vigilance in the eyes of the residents holding farming tools was gradually replaced by expressions of daze and reminiscence.
Many of them seemed to have their heartstrings tugged by these familiar words.
The song ended.
Theia opened her eyes, a trace of self-deprecating bitterness in them.
“It was clearly just a nursery rhyme sung by a child in passing...”
“Yet I clung to it like a lifeline, etching it deeply into my mind.”
“Even as I found myself ridiculous, I couldn't help but fantasize...”
“Could such a city-state... really exist?”
Her voice cracked slightly.
“It was just a child's nursery rhyme!”
“Yet it became my... greatest hope.”
Theia took a deep breath, her gaze slowly sweeping over the crowd before her.
It swept past the human auntie shielding Winnie behind her.
Past the ram-horned beastkin holding a pitchfork.
Past the goblin standing at the front, nervous but resolute.
Past every single resident who was subtly shielding Winnie with their body or weapon.
Finally, her gaze fell back on the green-haired, timid half-demon Forest Elf.
The pain and loneliness in her blood-red eyes receded like the tide.
In its place was an almost burning, trembling light.
The residents standing opposite her had no idea.
They didn't know how deeply their subconscious actions had shaken Theia.
“I always thought Avalon only existed in fantasies.”
“But...”
Her voice was soft, yet incredibly clear, carrying a final, settled conviction.
“It actually exists.”
Shielded behind the crowd of residents, Winnie stared blankly at Theia.
Every word Theia spoke was like a stone cast into the quiet lake of her heart.
The pain of banishment, the misery of wandering, the despair of being rejected by everyone...
How incredibly similar it was to her own past.
Except, she seemed to be... far luckier.
Winnie couldn't help but take a small step forward, her fingers curling nervously.
She looked at Theia and asked softly, her voice delicate yet clear:
“That poem... was written by Miss Hannah when she traveled the continent long ago.”
“Could it be that you, too, are...”
A trace of cautious anticipation appeared in her eyes.
“Following the song of Avalon, guided by Miss Hannah...”
“A new resident who found their way here?”
Not since Mr. Roger had any newcomer joined Avalon.
Hannah no longer went out to travel and bring back new residents.
If possible, Winnie hoped Theia could join them.
After all, their experiences were so similar.
“No.”
A cold, dry voice abruptly cut in.
“They are not.”
The owner of the voice slowly stepped out from behind the crowd, which automatically parted for him.
He was a standard, pure-blooded demon.
He was tall, with a sickly pale complexion.
On his head grew two curved, pointed horns with dark spiral patterns.
His eyes were a pure, blood-red color, cold and sharp.
On the exposed skin of his cheeks and arms, there were patches of a black, armor-like natural carapace.
On his back, a pair of folded leathery bat wings had edges that gleamed with a metallic, dark red luster.
His arrival immediately caused the surrounding residents to show respect, along with... a barely perceptible hint of fear.
The crowd silently parted to both sides, leaving a path open.
Behind the demon man followed several well-equipped warriors clad in simple leather armor.
There were humans, beastkin, and even a tall goblin.
Their eyes were sharp and their steps synchronized, clearly well-trained and exceptionally powerful.
Even the weakest among them possessed Low-tier Transcendent strength, starkly contrasting with the ordinary residents holding farming tools.
The demon man walked straight up to Winnie.
His blood-red eyes seemed to soften for a brief moment when he looked at the green-haired Forest Elf.
Reaching out, his carapace-covered fingers gently ruffled Winnie's hair.
“Winnie, step back a bit.”
His voice remained cold, but his tone softened considerably when speaking to Winnie.
“Do not go near them.”
Winnie shrank back slightly, nodded obediently, and retreated behind the demon man.
Immediately after, the warriors who had followed him stepped forward, quickly and orderly replacing the original residents.
Clang! Clang!
The crisp sounds of metal unsheathing rang out one after another.
They drew the longswords and battleaxes from their waists or backs with clean, swift movements.
In an instant, they formed a perimeter far tighter and more murderous than before.
The cold blades reflected the light of the dawning sun, locking firmly onto the trio of Lin Gui in the center.
The leading demon man was the first to lock onto the strongest, Theia.
His blood-red pupils contracted slightly as if he were carefully sensing something.
Then, a cold, humorless sneer tugged at the corner of his lips.
“A half-demon elf?”
His voice reached everyone's ears clearly, carrying unquestionable certainty.
“That pure demon energy on you...”
“Is not something a mere mixed-blood could possess.”
He raised his hand and pointed at Theia, his fingertip seeming to condense a cold, sharp edge.
“You are no half-demon at all.”
“You are someone who has awakened bloodline power...”
“A descendant of a Demon King.”
“A direct descendant of the Seventy-Two Pillar Demon Kings.”
The moment those words fell.
The entire street plunged into a deathly silence.
The residents who had previously shown sympathy and let down their guard due to Theia's story...
The expressions on their faces instantly froze.
Soon after, they were replaced by even deeper shock, disbelief, and a rapidly spreading, bone-deep fear and rejection.
“A... a Demon King's... descendant?”
The human auntie holding the hoe loosened her grip, and the farming tool fell to the ground with a loud clatter.
The ram-horned half-demon beastkin widened his eyes, taking half a step back instinctively.
Even the groggy husky werewolf let out a low whimper from his throat, tucking his tail.
Winnie covered her mouth, her eyes filled with confusion and panic.
She looked at Theia, then at the demon man in front of her, completely at a loss.
The warmth of shared suffering and anticipation that had just risen within her was thoroughly extinguished, as if doused by a bucket of ice water.
In the face of the words “descendant of a Demon King,” it vanished completely.
It was replaced by an instinctive alienation and dread when confronting a higher, purer tier of “outsider.”
The demon man slowly drew the weapon from his waist.
Its edge gleamed with an ominous, dark glow, pointing straight at Theia.
“Now, tell me.”
“Who exactly are you?”
“What on earth do you want in Avalon?”
His strength was at the High-tier Transcendent level.
On paper, his rank was more than enough to crush the three of them.
Yet... cold sweat was already breaking out on the demon man's hands.
No one had ever reached Avalon without being led by the City Lord.
Those enemies who had tried to cross the Wailing Corridor, whether Legendary or Epic, had all died out there!
How on earth did they fucking get across?!
Rate on N.U.
