Free Web NovelChapter 33: Chapter 33: Morning Aftermath
Morning light spilled through the cracked window cutting across the dusty bedroom floor in a diagonal line that crept slowly toward the bed.
Clara woke first.
For a split second — one terrifying, heart-stopping second — she felt the heat of the sunlight on her arm and panicked. Her body tensed, her eyes snapped open, and she was about to bolt when she noticed it.
Her ring was glowing faintly, barely visible, a soft blue shimmer pulsed from the Daywalker Ring on her finger.
She exhaled.
Right. The ring.
Clara relaxed back into the mattress and turned her head. Lucian was asleep beside her. His silver hair was a mess, spread across the pillow like spilled mercury. His face was soft, unguarded, the sharp edges of his arrogance smoothed away by sleep. His lips were slightly parted.
Clara smiled.
She reached out and traced his jawline with one finger.
He looks peaceful. When has he ever look peaceful since I knew him?
The door exploded open.
"Clara, I need to—"
Ryan froze.
His eyes went from Clara — in the bed — to Lucian — in the bed — to the tangled blankets — to Clara’s bare shoulders — and then back to Clara’s face.
He went rigid.
His hands curled into fists at his sides.
Clara sat up quickly, pulling the blanket higher. "Don’t. Say. Anything." She glanced at Lucian. "He’s still sleeping."
Ryan’s eye twitched.
"We need to talk. Outside. Now."
His voice was quiet.
Clara looked at Lucian one more time — still sleeping and carefully slid out of bed. She pulled on her clothes quickly, quietly, and followed Ryan out of the room.
The hallway was dim and cold.
Ryan walked to the far end, put distance between them and the bedroom door, and turned.
"Did you know what you were getting into?"
"Yes."
"Do you understand what you’ve lost? Normal food. Normal life."
"I understand perfectly."
"Then why?"
Clara looked at him.
"Because I was dying, Ryan. And he saved me." She paused. "And honestly? I don’t regret it."
Ryan went quiet.
A long silence stretched between them. Ryan stared at the floor. Clara stared at her brother.
Then: "Does he make you happy?"
"Yeah. He does." freewebnoveℓ.com
Ryan exhaled slowly through his nose. His shoulders dropped. The hard edge in his expression softened into something tired and resigned.
"Then I’ll deal with it." He looked up, and his eyes were serious. Deadly serious. "But I swear to god, Clara, if he hurts you—"
"He won’t. Don’t be so paranoid."
"He better not."
He turned and walked away.
Rose came downstairs an hour later.
She looked better but the haunted quality in her eyes had faded. Her red hair was tangled with her clothes wrinkled.
Which was more than could be said for most half-zombies.
Time passed as Lucian was awake now, sitting at the kitchen table with a container of coffee he couldn’t taste but drank anyway for appearances. He reached into his shadow storage and pulled out a small jar — skin-colored cream, unlabeled.
"Rub this on the grey patches," he said, sliding it across the table. "It’ll cover them completely. Don’t let anyone see your real skin."
Rose frowned, taking the jar. "What is it?"
"Does it matter?"
She opened it and sniffed. No scent. She dipped a finger in and rubbed a small amount on the inside of her wrist, over a patch of grey skin.
The grey vanished.
Her eyes widened. "Oh my god. This actually works."
Lucian bought it for 50 credits from the system.
Rose applied the cream to every visible patch of grey on her body — her calf, her forearm, a small spot on her neck. Within minutes, she looked completely normal.
Lucian nodded approvingly. "Remember to reapply it every few hours. And never let anyone see what’s underneath."
"Got it."
Blood Sense pinged.
Lucian’s head turned toward the window. Three signatures approaching — one familiar, two unknown. The familiar one was weaker than before, its mana signature fluctuating, but unmistakable.
"Dean’s coming," Lucian said. "With two others."
The group gathered at the front of the building. Minutes later, Dean appeared around the corner — missing his left arm, bandaged from shoulder to stump, pale but upright. Behind him, two soldiers in military gear followed.
The first was a heavyset man in his forties with a scarred face and tired eyes — Sergeant Morel, Late Neophyte. The second was younger — Private Chen, mid-twenties, Mid Neophyte, quiet, his eyes constantly scanning the surroundings.
Dean stopped in front of the group. "You’re all alive."
"Surprised?" Lucian asked.
"Honestly? Yes." Dean’s gaze swept over them — Rose looking healthy, Clara looking different but standing, Ryan intact. "I negotiated with the military to come find you. Convinced them you weren’t infected."
"Who’s infected?" Morel grunted, his eyes sharp despite his exhaustion.
"Nobody," Lucian said. "We’re clean."
Morel studied him for a long moment, then grunted again. Clearly not convinced, but not inclined to argue.
"There’s a safe zone," Dean said. "Bastion Haven. Fifty kilometers south. Fortified settlement, about five thousand survivors. Military-run but they’re taking in refugees."
"Then let’s go," Ryan said.
The vehicle was a military transport — armored, mana-powered, built for rough terrain. Chen drove, Morel rode shotgun, and the five survivors packed into the back.
Lucian sat beside the window, watching the ruined landscape scroll past.
"So you’re a Light-type?" Morel asked, glancing back at him. fгeewebnovёl.com
"Yes."
"What rank?"
"A-rank."
Morel’s eyebrows rose. "A-rank at your age? You from one of the clans?"
"No."
"Family?"
"Just me."
Morel studied him for a moment, then shrugged and turned back to the front.
The vehicle rumbled south.
