Jinn BLADE
Chapter 97 | Prelude to Disaster

Chapter 97: Chapter 97 | Prelude to Disaster

"A-ARGHHH!"

The scream tore through the tent like a blade through cloth—raw, violent, and painful to hear.

It was Garian.

He thrashed on the bed, his limbs shaking as if trying to escape his own body.

His face contorted in agony as thick black blood poured from his eyes, his mouth, his nose, and even his ears.

The corruption was spreading fast, faster than even the worst predictions.

His skin paled under the strain, the veins beneath turning pitch-black and branching like roots across his entire body.

His insides were burning—organs decaying, his blood turning to sludge. The dark seed had taken root deep within, and now his own eidra fought in vain to resist it.

The tent flap burst open.

*Flap!

Jirael stormed in, panic flooding her face. She stumbled to Garian’s side, landing on her knees beside the bed, her trembling hands reaching for him.

"G-Garian!" she cried out, voice shaking as she gripped his hand tightly. Her fingers wrapped around his, refusing to let go, as if sheer willpower could hold him here.

Garian coughed, more black blood trickling from the side of his mouth.

His eyes—bloodshot and glassy—fixed on her through the haze of pain.

His lips parted slightly.

"J-Jirael..." he rasped.

Though weak, his hand returned her grip, fingers twitching against her palm. In that brief moment, despite the pain and the blood and the madness boiling inside him, he was still there.

Still Garian.

Still the man she loved.

Tears streamed down her cheeks. She leaned in close, clutching his hand even harder.

"I’ve done it... Garian, I can save you! I found it!" Her other hand reached into her coat and pulled out the amulet.

It glistened faintly in the firelight—golden at first glance, but soaked with darkness.

Its center pulsed with a strange light, almost alive.

As it neared Garian, the artifact began to whir faintly, releasing soft whispers—cold, unnatural.

The shadows in the tent seemed to move with it.

Garian’s eyes widened.

"T-That...," he muttered, staring at the amulet. "Where did you get this? Do you even know what it is?!"

"I know what it is!" Jirael snapped, her voice cracking as more tears slipped down her face.

"Don’t treat me like I don’t understand! You have the seed of darkness in you, Garian! I told you we should never have trusted that stranger’s offer! I knew something was wrong!"

Garian let out a bitter laugh, blood bubbling on his lips.

"I don’t regret it," he said, his voice shaking but sincere.

"I’d make that choice again. I would sell my soul a hundred times if it meant achieving my dream. I’d die for it."

His gaze drifted to the ceiling, lost in thought for a moment, then came back to meet hers with clarity.

"So do it," he whispered. "Do what you came to do. If that item is what I think it is... then it will rebirth me. Through the void, I’ll return."

The amulet began to hum louder as if reacting to his words.

Jirael, with trembling hands, placed it on the ground just before her knees. The cold wind outside had gone silent, as if the world itself was holding its breath.

She then drew a ceremonial knife.

Its blade gleamed faintly, old and ornate and without hesitation, she raised it over her left palm.

"I’ll do anything for you," she whispered.

"Even if I must fall with you into the void... even if we both are corrupted, I’ll follow you there."

With a sharp breath, she sliced across her palm.

*sshhk!

Blood welled up immediately, dripping freely. She held her hand over the amulet, letting each crimson drop fall onto the artifact.

*tap! *tap! *rap!

The amulet hissed softly, the corrupted eidra swirling around it in faint black tendrils.

The whispers grew louder. The light flickered.

And then—

nothing.

The amulet went silent.

The light faded.

The swirling stopped.

It was dead again, as if nothing had happened.

Jirael’s face twisted in confusion.

"No... why isn’t it working!?" she cried. Her other hand raised the knife again, desperation written in every movement. "Maybe I need more—"

Garian weakly reached out, grabbing her wrist. Even as his body convulsed and shook, he forced himself to hold her still.

"Stop..." he wheezed. "That won’t do it."

She stared at him, blinking through tears. "What do you mean?"

"A few drops of blood aren’t enough," he said, gasping. "That thing... it’s not just an artifact. It’s a void catalyst. It needs more than that."

He swallowed hard, his voice lowering to a whisper.

"It needs to feed. On someone. Entirely."

Jirael’s mouth fell open, stunned.

"Wh... what?"

Garian turned his head toward her, eyes sharper now—lucid for just a moment through the haze.

"You have to kill someone. Not a beast. Not a monster. A person. One with powerful eidra."

She shook her head in disbelief. "No, that’s not—Garian, I already gave it power! Twenty dragons, all with strong eidra. I spilled my blood—it’s the blood of my family!"

"That’s not enough," he said flatly. "Not anymore."

"But—"

"It needs to consume something alive. Something whole. Someone like... Zendrell. Vendrael. Or even..."

He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t have to. The silence spoke louder than words.

Jirael’s breath caught in her throat. Her shoulders stiffened. Her grip on the knife loosened, but she didn’t let it fall.

Her eyes stared forward, unfocused.

She had spent her life learning discipline. Logic. Faith in the Empire.

But now, none of that mattered.

Her mind swam in images of Garian’s laughter.

His dreams.

Their future.

The quiet promises under stars.

The way he had stood beside her when no one else would.

She clenched her jaw, shaking. The tears dried. Her breathing slowed.

Then her brows lowered, her expression hardening like stone.

"Who?" she asked, voice steady now. "Who do I have to kill?"

Garian didn’t answer right away. His breath was ragged, his skin pale. He looked at her one last time, then turned his gaze to the tent flap.

Jirael followed his line of sight. She understood.

They didn’t need to speak.

Someone was going to die.

And she was going to be the one to do it.

For him.

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