Chapter 66: It remembered
Amidst the darkness of the FlameFrost Village. The night was starless. The moon was obscured at just the right angle and moment. The forest surrounding the FlameFrost Village was completely plunged into darkness.
Just glancing at the darkness in the forest, even the guards on duty that night felt an unsettling unease.
It was as if something was watching them with bloodthirsty eyes, as if the darkness of this night could swallow them up in an instant.
A dark, misty shadow lurked silently on the outskirts of the forest. The red beast, its body shrouded in mist, now had a renewed glint in its eyes, as if its lost spirit had been replenished. It slowly pushed itself up from the ground, looking around dazedly.
When it regained its senses, the FlameFrost Village lay before it. Torches illuminated the area. Although it was silent because of the night, if one listened carefully, one could hear faint laughter, as if the atmosphere of celebration had not yet faded.
Its instincts urged it towards it. A fierce emotion suddenly surged within its body.
The figure slowly stretched up before silently making its way into the village. Though no longer the Vaira Locust, it possessed the same impeccable camouflage. Even when it leaped onto the village wall, the guards nearby didn't notice it.
It gazed down at the silent village with indifference. No one was on the streets anymore. Some houses still had lights on. Most were surely asleep.
As it saw the FlameFrost Village close by and many houses still brightly lit, it understood the emotions surging within it:
Murder.
Bloodlust.
Slaughter.
Its eyes turned blood red. It desired to tear the village apart, to drench itself in the villagers' blood, and to crush human flesh and heads.
Memories of the past flashed through its mind—the time it was Vaira Locust, the time it gleefully slaughtered villagers, dumping their bodies by the village wall, and the terrified expressions of the puny villagers that found them.
It hesitated, wondering if it should choose one unfortunate villager to kill and display their body as usual to intimidate them again or if it should do something else.
After a moment of deliberation, it made a decision. The emotions and thirst within it tonight were more intense than usual. It could barely restrain itself. Killing only a few bodies wouldn't satisfy it.
It desired a massacre tonight.
The arrival of the woman and that group had prevented it from hunting freely. It felt as if its memory had suddenly vanished. Previously, it had hunted these lowly villagers, terrifying them.
It enjoyed seeing these villagers helpless, terrified like insects.
After the woman's arrival, it realized her group was extremely dangerous. Even though it always camouflaged itself with its innate ability to change its appearance during hunts, it sensed that this wasn't enough.
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After it escaped, a mysterious voice in its head told it it was being pursued. It discovered that the group was incredible at tracking and able to track it down. Upon closer observation, it realized the reason they were able to track it was the large black dog.
Time was running out. It decided to take a risk, leaving one of its legs in its den, hoping the group would think it had escaped. It planned to ambush and kill the dog while they were complacent.
However, everything turned upside down in an instant. The moment it saw one of the young men in the group lose their composure and start shouting, it lunged to attack, only to be overwhelmed and attacked instead.
It narrowly survived, but the moment it tried to escape, its world went black.
When it woke up, it found itself in front of this village again.
This was one of many times before. It felt as if parts of its memories were missing, like being in a long, endless dream. When it woke up, it found itself still in another dream, a never-ending cycle.
Sometimes it dreamed that it wasn't a Vaira Locust, but a lion.
Sometimes it was a giant scorpion.
Sometimes it was a sea monster.
Many times it dreamed of transforming. As time went on, its memories of its previous form faded.
As it gazed at the insignificant villagers below, it noticed its own red form.
Was this its usual form?
It couldn't remember. Perhaps this was always its form.
It shook off the nonsensical thoughts and leaped down. It darted towards a house that still had its lights on. It didn't want to think anymore. It was hungry, and it needed food.
Lots of food.
Suddenly, its body creaked. A faint glow emanated from within. Its vision blurred. When it opened its eyes, the light had vanished. There was nothing left. It was still conscious, yet unable to move. It was as if time had completely stopped around it.
It could only look around helplessly. After an unknown amount of time, a dark figure appeared in its sight. This figure felt strange, yet evoked a sense of unease. It was as if it had seen this shadowy figure countless times.
“Hmph, an incomplete soul fusion. Tonight was the perfect opportunity to slander the princess and make her look utterly incompetent. Yet this worthless thing can't even complete a soul fusion!” The figure cursed angrily.
As it gazed at the shadowy figure and heard the familiar voice, it was as if something in its head shattered. Memories of the past flooded into its body. Countless events began to float through its mind.
It was once just an ordinary person, yet it possessed a Word of Power that allowed it to possess the bodies of other living beings. It knew this power was too cruel, so it never intended to use it. Yet, as if fate were cruel, it rose to become a First word Engraver with this word.
It sealed this power away, never to use it again. It found love, had a lovely child, worked normally, and lived an ordinary life. As a First word Engraver, it could provide a good life for those it loved. Its life was filled with happiness.
Until one day, it was murdered. Its family was brutally murdered before its very eyes. Losing control, in the final moments before its death, it used its last ounce of spiritual energy to transplant its soul to that murderer, hoping that murderer would die too. But it was deceived. That murderer smiled gleefully. In his hand, a small bottle was open.
Before losing consciousness, it suddenly heard this voice, a voice that awakened its memories.
'Word of Power 'Soul Transfer’. Perfect for my Body and Soul: Sewn spell. You need not worry. No matter how many times you die, I will transfer your soul into another body forever, my immortal soldier.' It laughed maniacally.
When it encountered the darkness within the bottle, its consciousness faded into darkness. It didn't know how long it remained silent. When it awoke, it found itself in the body of a Devil beast, devoid of any memories. Its body was filled with desire, a thirst for blood. It wanted to see the world burn.
Sometimes it couldn't control itself, as if a voice in its head commanded it to commit evil acts. Sometimes its memories would vanish completely. Sometimes its body seemed to awaken anew.
Only this time, it remembered everything perfectly.
The black shadow reached out and touched its forehead. On the other hand, a small, pitch-black bottle appeared. Its consciousness was slowly being drained away.
Ah, it remembered now. This man was the one who killed it. This man murdered its family.
Ah, it remembered. This man was the one who sealed its soul.
Ah, it remembered. This man was the one who embedded its soul into various bodies, whispering evil to it.
Ah, it remembered. This man was the one who erased its memories after a short while, making it his puppet forever.
Ah, it remembered. The feeling was ingrained in its heart, a feeling that never faded, even after decades, a feeling clinging to its soul, no matter which body it inhabited.
Revenge!
The black figure cursed profusely as it devoured its soul, seeking a new body. It was helpless, only able to pray, hoping that one day, this piece of trash would be punished by the black demon of hatred, condemned to the Realm of Tiran for eternity.
No matter how many times it lost its memories, it would continue to curse this black figure!
The moment before its consciousness faded, it saw a large black dog. That black dog, able to stare at it even through its camouflage, stood silently behind the black figure. Beside it stood a young woman with bright red hair. In her hand appeared a purple teapot shrouded in clouds. From the spout, streams of water gushed out, as if the teapot contained an ocean within. These streams overflowed, rising to the waist of the black figure.
The last thing it saw was the black figure turning away in terror, his face pale. The purple teapot glowed brightly, and the black dog lunged at them malevolently. The immense waters enveloped them tightly.
Ah, the black demon has come to punish this wicked scum. Its decades of prayers have finally been answered.

