The Creatures That We Are-Chapter 341: Spring

The first night of Crimson Tide. free(w)ebnovel.com

Xijing District, three o’clock in the morning.

The blood moon hung low, casting the dense forest area in a vibrant red, making it look like a strange forest fire had broken out, and all trees were silently burning.

Deep in the woods, a white two-story mansion could be made out, and the light was on.

Usually, the mansion would be enveloped in obscuring magic to make it blend with the natural landscapes, and since there was no path leading up the mountain around the mansion, it was nigh impossible for anyone to spot it.

During the Crimson Tide, though, the owner of the small mansion deemed it unnecessary to keep the building hidden.

For the next seven days, the awakeners were the prey who should be running around hiding.

The living room of the mansion was renovated with the old western palaces in mind, with a large crystal chandelier, heavy, luxurious dark-colored curtains, soft rug with beautiful patterns, high-class furniture lovingly-crafted by hand, and walls of oil paintings done by masters.

A boy dressed in black tuxedo sat on an extravagant host seat. He looked to be seven or eight with a small, frail figure. His feet, wearing white socks and handmade dress shoes, didn’t even reach the floor.

His silver hair was parted in the middle with short, curved bangs. His crimson eyes were equal parts adorable and pensive, combining the contrasting temperaments perfectly.

His right eye was adorned with a mole.

Although he had a lovely face that would make him instantly likable, the air about him was heavy and grave, and his slight frown seemed to embody all the worries in the world.

He sighed.

As the patriarch of the family, he was under great pressure.

“Master Spring, White Dew and Fresh Snow are back.”

Standing behind the little boy was a tall middle-aged man dressed in a tailcoat. His silver hair was short and spiky, and his eyes were the same deep red. On his angular face, his wide chin had a dimple in the middle.

The boy addressed as Master Spring nodded slightly and said in a worried tone, “It seems that White Dew still hasn’t found a new prey for Fresh Snow.”

“Worry not, Master Spring. The Crimson Tide is our time. We’ll have ample opportunities in the next few days.”

“You’re being way too optimistic, Waking Insects[1]. Fresh Snow is special, more so than any of us. It isn’t easy to find her prey.”

Waking Insects nodded slightly and fell silent.

Spring sighed again. The weight on his shoulders was so heavy.

He was the founder of the Spectres and the first Spectre in the Mist World. His origin and age remained a mystery he never told anyone about, and while he appeared to be a young boy, he was an old man who had lived through long, long years.

It’d been long since Spring started looking for newly-born companions, expanding the influence of the Spectres.

His name derived from Beginning of Spring of the twenty-four solar terms.

Spring represented hope, and no species needed hope more than the Spectres.

Every new member after him would adopt the next term of the twenty-four solar terms. Of course, they were free to make changes to their name.

Twenty-seven years ago, White Dew and Fresh Snow were born as twins, and since then, the Spectres hadn’t welcomed new members.

Originally, Fresh Snow should be named after Autumn Equinox, but disliking the name, she changed her own name to Fresh Snow when she was three, based on the solar term Lesser Snow.

Spring agreed. After all, Fresh Snow was the youngest of them all, and to Spring, she was like a beloved granddaughter, the precious pearl to be protected and cherished.

At its prime, the Spectres had eleven members.

But now, they only had four: Spring, Waking Insects, White Dew, and Fresh Snow.

To awakeners, Spectres were powerful, terrifying, and bloodthirsty, which wouldn’t be that far off from the truth given their diet of awakeners’ energy and vitality.

However, Spectres were also incredibly fragile.

Similar to expensive purebred pets, born with all sorts of inherited diseases under the beauty and grace, each Spectre had a different curse circulating in their body.

While the curse granted the Spectre great power and a different form, it was also a terrible chronic disease that could claim the Spectre’s life at any moment.

Eating regularly only sustained a Spectre and did nothing to stop the curse from spreading and worsening. There was no rhyme or reason to when the curse would claim their life.

Spring looked up at the photo collage on the wall.

The pictures were of the family members they had lost, all with silver hair and red eyes, and all way too young to pass from the world. They beamed innocently and carefreely. Only a small percentage of them were killed. The rest were taken away by their own curses.

About twenty years ago, the Godbearer Cult sought out the Spectres.

They claimed to be able to supply the Spectres with food regularly, and that they could cure the curses that plagued Spectres. In exchange, they wanted the Spectres to work with them.

Spring wasn’t so naive that he would fully trust the Godbearer Cult, but he believed they had nothing to lose in striking a deal.

Thus, they started working together.

Over the years, the Spectres were given simple tasks such as assassinating a few awakeners, or resurrecting some of them with Fresh Snow’s power.

And the Godbearer Cult had supplied them with food regularly, but not fulfilled their promise to cure the Spectres of their curses, claiming that the time hadn’t come.

Thinking about that, Spring couldn’t help but sigh again.

Fresh Snow couldn’t have regular food because of the special curse she was inflicted with.

Now that she had found a special food she could eat, though, she refused to, but instead become friends with the food. What an absurd turn of events.

Could the curse have made her more of a stubborn fool?

Watching Fresh Snow grow weaker and weaker, her sister, White Dew, became increasingly anxious. It was all she could do to go around catching unaffiliated awakeners even though she knew Fresh Snow couldn’t eat them.

Bam!

The door opened. White Dew returned with Fresh Snow in cat form.

Her beautiful, elegant face showed a hint of exhaustion and frustration. She put the sleeping white cat in a pink cat house.

Marching to the couch, White Dew threw herself onto it and closed her eyes, forgetting proprietary altogether.

“White Dew,” Spring said. “We can’t keep this on.”

“I know, but Snow refused to eat that awakener called Gao Yang,” White Dew said resentfully with her eyes closed and her chest heaving slightly.

“She will.” Spring turned to look at Fresh Snow with caring eyes. “She’s stubborn, but no stubbornness can overpower the instinct to survive and eat.”

“The three major organizations are huddling together now. We don’t have a chance.”

“Be patient.”

“We don’t have time!” White Dew shot to her feet and yelled, sounding pained. “Fresh Snow can die any moment!”

White Dew didn’t want to live in a world where her sister was gone. She had nothing in this world but her sister.

Spring sighed again and took a name card out of his breast pocket. “Contact him, White Dew.”

White Dew splayed her hand, and the name card flew between her long, slim fingers. She took a look at it. “Who is this?”

“The one who found the special food for Fresh Snow. Contact him. Perhaps he would be willing to help us again. If he wants something in return, we’ll do it as long as it doesn’t touch our bottom line.”

“Okay.” Hope lit up in White Dew’s crimson eyes.

Then she frowned slightly. “Is he an awakener? Why would he help us?”

Spring shook his head. “He’s a pride monster. Although he’s no friend, he isn’t our enemy either.”

1. The Spectres are named after the 24 Solar Terms, a traditional way to split the seasons. Jingzhe, the waking of insects, is the first half of March, when animals come out of hibernation. ?

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