Chapter 704: [Blood Moon War] [45] Elizabeth Amaya Tepes
Amaya’s lips stayed pressed against my skin, drinking my blood with quiet gulps. Her fangs stung, but the pain was distant—muted compared to the storm raging in my head. The moment her mouth touched me, the flood began: visions, memories, lives that weren’t mine yet clawed their way through my skull.
It started with Elizabeth, strangely enough. Perhaps because she had been the last vessel of my time. But her image fractured like glass, and when the shards reformed, I was staring into another memory—Amaya’s.
She was young, small, fragile. Tears streaked down her cheeks as she knelt before the lifeless body of a woman—her mother. The air stank of blood and smoke. Before she could even grieve, armored knights seized her by the arms and began to drag her away. Her thin wrists flailed, her little body resisting with every ounce of strength she had left.
Behind them, I noticed a figure. White hair, eyes cold as frost.
He must be Rucain.
Somehow I knew it was him.
He watched, lips twisting into a smile, as Amaya screamed for her mother and reached out desperately.
I stretched my hand toward her to take hers. But my fingers slipped through her like mist.
Then it came—the scream. A sound so raw, so desperate it didn’t sound human anymore. The air itself quivered, and in the next heartbeat, a wave of blood erupted from her small frame. A crimson shockwave tore through the knights, splitting flesh and shattering armor. Bodies dropped around her like puppets with cut strings.
All but Rucain. He remained, standing amidst the carnage with that same twisted smile, unaffected. He seized her arm and dragged her away, her sobs echoing in the silence left by the dead.
The vision shattered.
Another took its place.
This time, a different girl. A Vampire Witch before Amaya. She couldn’t have been older than twelve. She sat alone in the heart of a town square, clutching a broken doll while people whispered and spat at her.
"Cursed child."
"Monster."
Children mimicked their parents, throwing rocks with cruel laughter. Stones struck her arms, her face, tearing her skin until blood ran down her small frame. She stumbled away barefoot, fleeing through dirt roads, her soles cut and bleeding. When she reached the forest, thorns clawed her legs raw, but still she ran.
Eventually, a woman found her. She smiled, fed the girl, offered her shelter. For six days, the child clung to that fragile kindness like a lifeline.
She was looking up at her like a mother.
But on the seventh day... the truth revealed itself.
The girl was bound within a circle painted crimson. The woman who had cradled her now stood above her with a blade. No words. No mercy. Just steel slicing across her throat.
I turned away, bile rising, but I couldn’t block out the sound—the girl’s choking sobs, her last, ragged breaths, and the betrayal bleeding out of her eyes.
Another memory came, hammering into me before I could breathe.
This Vessel was older, late teens. A collar gleamed around her neck, chained to servitude. She worked the fields of human nobles under the lash of the sun, saving every coin she could in the hope of one day buying her freedom.
But when she returned to her hut one night, she found three men waiting inside. Her box of savings lay open, coins scattered across the floor.
She fought them but they were stronger. They beat her down, her cries muffled as the door shut behind them. Their hands clawed at her clothing.
"No... no fucking not." My voice cracked, trembling with rage. I lunged forward, reaching for them, for her. My hands passed through everything.
"Get away from her!" I roared, again and again. But nothing changed.
When one of them reached down, the Vessel’s body convulsed. A crimson explosion burst from her, blades of blood ripping through her attackers. Their screams died as quickly as they began.
The next day, she stood trial. Her wrists were chained, her voice silenced. Nobles condemned her with casual cruelty, tossing her into a cage of mana beasts. I wanted to close my eyes, but I couldn’t. I saw everything—saw them tear her apart, bones cracking, flesh ripping, her screams echoing until they faded into silence.
"Stop it..." I whispered. My fists trembled. "Please... stop..."
But the memories didn’t stop.
Another Vessel appeared. A healer, smiling softly as she tended to wounds, running an orphanage filled with laughter. For two decades she cared for others, raising children, saving lives. She gave everything of herself.
And then... the awakening came. In a moment of instability, her power lashed out during a healing. She injured a man, and the villagers—those same villagers who owed her their lives—turned on her.
They accused her.
Hunted her.
Called her Witch.
And when she fled, they turned their wrath on the children. Her children.
I saw the flames before she did. The orphanage ablaze, little voices screaming inside. She arrived too late.
She didn’t beg. She didn’t curse them. She only wept silently, her tears cutting rivers through soot on her face. Without hesitation, she walked into the fire and never came out.
One after another. Vessel after Vessel. Every life ending in betrayal, torment, blood.
Unlike me, the Witch’s Vessels carried the burden of all those memories, each death compounding on the next, every betrayal carving deeper into their soul.
"Elizabeth..."
She’s been enduring this since birth? Amaya too? Living with a constant flood of agony that would’ve shattered anyone’s mind a thousand times over.
Not once.
Not a single Vessel ever had a happy ending.
The next memory crashed into me.
A young woman lay in the mud beneath a storm, three spears pinning her to the earth. Her body was pale, drained of blood, her friends—her so-called friends—standing over her. Their faces were blank, indifferent. When offered the chance to sell her body, the body of the new Vampire Witch for coin and favor, they hadn’t hesitated.
Her trembling hand lifted toward the sky as rain poured down her cheeks, mixing with her tears. And then... her eyes shifted, looking straight at me.
Her lips trembled. "It hurts..."
Her hand stretched toward me.
I fell to my knees in front of her, reaching out again and again.
But my hand passed through hers like smoke.
Her voice broke.
"Darling..."
***
"Huh!"
Before my fingers could brush against her, something yanked me back with invisible force. I blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of it. The world hadn’t changed — it was the same place.
"Amaya!" I cried, my voice echoing as my eyes fell on her body sprawled across the ground.
I dropped to my knees and grabbed her shoulders, shaking her gently, desperately. "I’m here! Hey! Open your eyes, I’m right here!"
My vision blurred. It took me a second to realize it wasn’t from the haze of battle but from tears slipping down my face. I hadn’t even noticed them falling. Maybe it was because every Vessel’s face I’d seen up until now — their suffering, their loneliness — all of it overlapped with hers. And when I looked closer, another face overlapped too. Elizabeth’s.
That was when it hit me.
She had carried that suffering across every incarnation, every Vessel, and not once... not once had anyone reached out their hand to her.
Her eyelids fluttered. Slowly, so slowly, Amaya opened her eyes, and a faint crimson glow shimmered within them. For a fleeting second, something else flickered deep in their depths.
"D–Darling..."
My heart stopped.
I gasped, air catching in my throat.
The way she said it — the tone, it wasn’t just Amaya. It wasn’t only her. It sounded like Elizabeth. But not entirely. A strange, impossible blend.
"E–Elizabeth?" I whispered, almost afraid of the answer.
Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.
"Darling... I knew it..." Her trembling arms suddenly wrapped around my neck, pulling me close. She clung to me like someone terrified I’d vanish.
I swallowed hard, my throat drying, and wrapped my arms around her in return.
"A–Amaya, you..."
"Elizabeth," she corrected, and nodded her head buried in my chest as her lips trembled.
For a moment, I froze.
Memories—raw, jagged memories—rushed to the surface. Her death. The agony I felt. The emptiness that followed. And yet... here she was.
It was really her.
Different, yes.
But it didn’t matter.
She was Amaya. She was Elizabeth. She was both.
"Darling..." Her hand rose, fingers trembling as they brushed against my cheek, her tears streaming endlessly.
I bit down on my lip, the swell of emotion almost too much to contain, before I crushed her against me once more.
"I—I thought I’d lost you forever..." My voice cracked, anger and grief twisting inside me. "Why? Why the hell did you sacrifice yourself for me?"
Her fingers slipped into my hair as she locked her eyes teary yet dark red glowing eyes into me. "Because you are my Darling."
"What are you even saying?!" My voice shook as I stared into her eyes, red with tears. "I—I’ve already lost so much, and you... you just—!"
She silenced me, pulling my head against her chest, pressing me into her warmth. Her heartbeat was frantic, racing beneath my ear. "For once... in all my lives as Elizabeth, as Amaya... I am truly happy. Because you are here, Darling." Her tears dripped into my hair.
I trembled, wrapping my arms tightly around her waist. My lips shook as I whispered, "Don’t you ever do that again..."
"If your life is in danger," she muttered softly, "I will."
"Then I’ll find you again," I answered instantly, tightening my hold. "No matter what."
Silence fell at my words.
When I lifted my head, I found her crying even harder now, silent tears streaking her cheeks. She cupped my face with both hands, her thumbs brushing the wetness from my skin, before leaning forward and pressing her lips softly against mine. A brief kiss.
"Thank you, Edward..." she whispered. "For being with me."
A small smile escaped me, but it didn’t last. Reality slammed back into me. I pulled away, eyes wide. "That’s right... Amaya, Alicia—she’s still—"
"I know, Darling."
She pushed herself up, her expression hardening.
"I know how to release Alicia from the Witch’s hold."