Chapter 75: Chapter: 75 Vehemoth heart refinement. [3]

It was already the third day, and there was still no call or sound from Vivian.

The silence was starting to eat away at Charlotte’s patience.

She hadn’t moved from her spot outside the room all this time.

Three days had passed, and she stayed there without rest.

Her eyes had dark circles, her clothes were a little messy, and she looked tired, yet she didn’t care.

Every few minutes, she would get up and pace back and forth with a worried look on her face.

Her heart felt heavy, and her chest tightened each time she thought about what might be happening inside.

“Haa…” she let out another long sigh, her eyes fixed on the closed door.

How many times had she thought of going in?

But she stopped herself each time.

She knew that if she entered and something went wrong, if the toxins inside harmed her, Vivian would drop everything to save her.

That could ruin all his efforts, maybe even endanger his life.

So she stayed there, waiting and praying quietly that he would come out safe, her hands trembling slightly as she whispered,

“Just a little longer… please be alright, Vivian.”

Those three days had worn her down.

One bad thought chased another through her mind: what if the process failed, what if he died a second time?

Each thought felt heavier than the last, and she had to fight the rising panic in her chest.

She pictured the worst scenes over and over.

If the refinement failed, she told herself, she would not sit quietly and accept it.

First she would find Kafrik and make him pay, make him listen to every scream and regret until he begged for death.

Then she would drag the truth out into the open so no one could hide from it.

The professor would not escape either; she would hunt him down and make sure he faced the blame.

After she had taken her revenge, she thought, there would be nothing left for her in this life.

She would join Vivian wherever he went, without questions, without fear.

That idea comforted her in a strange, cold way: better to follow him than to live in a world that had lost him.

When the fury and plans faded, what remained was raw fear.

Could she really bear that kind of loss?

The idea of living on alone felt unbearable.

Her hands clenched, nails biting her palms until the pain steadied her.

She had to be strong now, for him, and for whatever chance still hung between life and death.

Just as those dark thoughts swarmed her, a weak voice slipped into her mind, a thin, half-broken transmission calling her name:

[“Charlotte…”]

She sucked in a sharp breath.

“Vivian….?”

Panic hit like ice and her legs went weak, trembling under her.

She did not wait to think.

She threw the door open and rushed inside.

A thin, harmful mist, clear and glowing faintly, flowed out from the room.

It stung her throat and made her eyes water, but she did not stop.

Her hand reached out, groping in the dim for any sign of Vivian.

Not long after stepping inside, her eyes caught sight of something moving on the floor.

For a moment she froze, then her breath hitched, Vivian was crawling weakly across the ground.

“Gasp…..”

A gasp tore from her throat as panic flooded her chest.

He was a mess.

His stomach and chest each had a deep, gaping hole, and both his wrists were severed.

But there was no blood.

What truly terrified her was his color.

His skin had turned a sick mix of blue and black, veins bulging all over like twisted roots trying to tear out from under his skin.

“Vivian!” she cried, rushing forward.

She fell to her knees and lifted his head onto her lap, her hands trembling so hard she could barely hold him. “What happened? Talk to me!”

Her face had gone pale as chalk.

She leaned closer, trying to find any sign of breath, but there was none.

His eyes were open, glassy and unmoving, as dark veins spread around them, and thin lines of blood slipped from the corners.

Her heart pounded in terror as she whispered again, voice breaking, “Vivian… please… say something…”

As her panic reached the extreme, another weak transmission echoed in her mind.

[… hurry… pierce my… heart… now.]

Her eyes widened, her hand trembling as she muttered, “What are you saying? If… I pierce your heart… something will die, right?” Her voice cracked, heavy with fear and confusion.

It was the worst thing she could imagine.

Her chest tightened, breath quick and shallow.

The thought of losing him again made her whole body freeze.

Her mind went blank, unable to think, unable to act.

But again, his weak voice brushed against her mind, softer now, fading like the last flicker of a dying flame.

[Hurry up… I don’t have… much time…]

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she looked at him, torn between fear and desperation.

She could feel his life slipping away, his heartbeat growing weaker with every passing second.

At this moment, she couldn’t think clearly as tears flowed down her face.

Her heart trembled with hesitation.

From how he looked, broken, pale, and barely breathing, she thought he wanted to die by her hands.

But another part of her remembered his words about destroying his heart, and that thought made her doubt.

He never told her how the process worked, and that uncertainty chained her in place.

Then came another weak transmission.

[…Believe… me…]

The moment she heard those words, something inside her shifted.

The fear didn’t vanish, but it hardened into resolve.

If he truly wished to die by her hands, she would grant that wish, but if his survival depended on her piercing his chest, then she wouldn’t falter.

She gently laid his head on the ground and searched for something sharp enough to pierce his heart.

Her trembling eyes fell on the dagger Vivian had used earlier to cut himself.

She snatched it up, gripping it tightly, and drew in a sharp breath.

“Don’t worry,” she whispered, voice shaking but steady enough to carry her intent. “If you die… then I die too. Right here, right now.”

Saying that, she lifted his body onto her lap, her hands shaking as she looked at his chest.

The gaping wound was dark and lifeless now, his heart, once red and full of power, had turned black and stopped beating.

Without hesitation, she channeled her mana into the dagger, her grip firm despite the tears blurring her vision, and thrust it straight into the gaping hole in his chest.

Chick.

The sound of the blade sinking in echoed faintly.

She felt the resistance of flesh give way, yet no blood flowed, only an eerie stillness.

Her tears kept falling, each drop burning her cheeks as her heart pounded in terror.

Then came another faint transmission, almost like a whisper from beyond.

[…Destroy it…]

Her body trembled, but she didn’t stop.

Without a moment’s hesitation, she poured her mana into the dagger, forcing it to erupt.

Boom!

A small explosion burst out, shaking the air and scattering dust around them.

For a moment, she could hear nothing but the ringing in her ears. Then, silence.

She looked down, her breath caught in her throat.

His body lay still in her lap, the faint glow of mana fading from his chest.

His eyes, once so full of life, now stared blankly ahead, lifeless and still.

Her fingers trembled as she whispered, “Vivian…” but no answer came.

Only the sound of her quiet sobs filled the empty air.

This had turned into the very thing she feared most.

She stared at his lifeless body, her mind numb, her heart hollow.

She didn’t scream. She didn’t even blink.

She just kept looking into his still eyes, as if hoping they would move, that he would blink once and tell her it was all a cruel joke.

But nothing happened.

After a long silence, her gaze wavered, and a faint, bitter smile crept onto her trembling lips.

“It was… just as I thought,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Drawing in a shaky breath, she reached into her subspace and pulled out a small, silver voice recorder artifact.

Its surface shimmered faintly in the dim light.

She pressed the activation rune and began to speak, her voice quiet and steady despite the tears still running down her cheeks.

She told everything, how it began, what they went through, and how it ended.

Every word carried her sorrow, her guilt, and the fading warmth of a bond that had now been severed.

When she finished, she stored the recorder back into her subspace.

A small, desperate hope flickered inside her, that someday, someone would find it.

Someone who would hear their story and take revenge for them, carrying forward what they could not.

And with that, she reached out and pressed her trembling lips against his for one last time, a soft, lingering kiss filled with grief and longing.

When she pulled away, her tears had already soaked his face.

Her hand moved slowly as she picked up the same dagger, its blade still faintly glowing from the mana she had poured into it.

She positioned it against her throat, her voice barely a whisper. “Wait for me…”

Her fingers tightened around the hilt, ready to end it all—

Thud!

His body suddenly slipped from her lap and hit the ground.

Charlotte froze, her heart lurching.

The dagger clattered from her hand as she stared, wide-eyed.

His fingers twitched. Then his entire body began to tremble violently.

She drew in a sharp breath, her mind in Chaos to believe what her eyes were seeing.

“V–Vivian…?” she muttered, her voice shaking as hope and fear tangled in her chest.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep