what if I'm an undead! then so what?-Chapter 52: Under crimson moons

Elias and Aurelia stood in silence before the remnants of what was supposed to be their mountain refuge. The sun had long dipped beneath the jagged horizon, and the shadows that crept across the landscape now deepened into impenetrable night. The house, once modest but sturdy, was now utterly ruined—shattered beams jutted from scorched stone, and the foundation had caved in on itself. There was no salvaging anything from the wreckage.

"It’s all your fault!" Elias snapped, his voice raw with exhaustion as he dropped heavily to the snowy ground. The cold had grown sharper, more vicious—well below freezing. A normal human would’ve frozen to death by now, their breath stolen by the chill and blood slowed to a crawl. But both Elias and expecially Aurelia were far from normal;Each had something to keep them warm, for Elias his primordial energy flowing through his body kept the frost at bay, for Aurelia, hmmm well who knows? However their bodies were radiating warmth like embers in the storm. Still, it didn’t soothe his temper.

Aurelia, seated beside a broken timber, glanced away. "Actually... you could say it was good luck," she murmured, her voice nearly lost in the wind.

Elias turned toward her, incredulous. "Good luck?" His brows shot up. "If you hadn’t consumed my uncle I don’t think anything would have been destroyed. We’re stranded in a mountain range miles from the nearest human settlement, and the temperature’s trying to kill us. You call that good luck?"

She didn’t answer. Instead, she tilted her head upward, staring at the sky with a strangely distracted expression. Maybe she didn’t have an explanation—or maybe she thought he wouldn’t understand. Either way, she chose silence.

"Great," Elias grumbled, rolling onto his back as the snow crunched beneath him. "We’re freezing our asses off and your cryptic nonsense is supposed to keep me warm."

Aurelia didn’t react. She was staring upward, her eyes fixed on the moon that hung in the sky like a bleeding eye.

"The moon," she said softly. "It’s red. Awfully red. There’s an unusual feeling to it."

Elias squinted. True enough, the moon loomed above them like a dark crimson omen, its surface strangely smooth, almost artificial. But to him, that was all it was—unusual, yes, but not ominous.

"It’s just a red moon," he said, folding his arms behind his head. "Looks like a sunset’s got stuck up there. I don’t feel anything off about it. No pressure, no energy—nothing. Maybe you’re just too weak to resist low-tier primordial interference."

Aurelia didn’t smile. Her lips were pressed into a thin line. "No. There’s something wrong. I can feel it. It’s... it’s like it’s staring back at me."

Elias chuckled, not unkindly. "Or maybe you’re being dramatic."

But just as he began to close his eyes, a sudden, biting chill swept past him—different from the mountain cold. Instinct kicked in. He rolled away just in time to avoid a blade of searing energy that tore through the space where he’d been lying. Snow exploded upward from the force.

"What the hell?!" Elias sprang to his feet, wide-eyed. Aurelia was advancing, her face pale and expressionless, her movements rigid—inhuman. And her eyes... they had changed. Her hazel irises now burned with the same crimson as the moon above.

She struck again, fast and lethal. Elias caught her wrists mid-swing, holding her back with effort.

"Snap out of it, damn it!" he shouted, trying to shake her awake. But there was no recognition in her gaze. Just that eerie, hypnotized glare.

"If that’s how you want it..." Elias muttered, his lips curling into a grin. "I’ve been looking for an excuse to pay you back for that serious prank you played earlier, I’ll calm my self by transforming you into a pulp instead."

He drove his fist into her stomach, sending her rocketing backward through the air, a blur of gold and crimson trailing in her wake. She crashed through trees and snowbanks, finally halting nearly a hundred meters away.

But Elias wasn’t finished.

Before she could recover, he blurred again, reappearing behind her in midair. His hand ignited with golden energy, and with a resounding impact, he slammed her down into the mountain itself. The force cratered the landscape, flattening trees and splitting boulders.

"You good now?" he asked, landing beside her with a cocky smirk.

Aurelia groaned, sitting up and rubbing the back of her head. "Ow... What was that for?" she muttered, her voice teetering on the edge of a sob.

"You attacked me first," Elias replied, shrugging. "I didn’t hold back."

The crimson glow faded from her eyes, and she blinked several times, dazed. He walked off, dusting snow from his shoulders.

"Let’s get moving. This place is trashed anyway."

---

Elsewhere, deep within the bustling maze of Shinjuku, four teenagers gathered inside a cramped, dimly lit apartment nestled atop a dilapidated two-story building. The space reeked of incense and cheap plastic, the walls yellowed from years of cigarette smoke. In the center of the living room, an ominous summoning circle was etched into the wooden floor with red chalk, surrounded by candles that flickered with unnatural intensity.

"You really went all out, Kirito," one of the boys said with a sneer, nudging the bespectacled figure kneeling by the circle. "I can’t wait to see the look on your face when this whole scam blows up and you realize you just burned your entire life savings."

Two others laughed, leaning against the wall as they struggled to stifle their boredom. The air was heavy, claustrophobic, and reeked of wasted time.

Kirito, adjusting his oversized round glasses, shot them a glare. "Laugh all you want. This time, it’s real. I swear on it."

"You said that last time," the group’s official leader—nicknamed "President" for being the head of the school’s Occult Club—grumbled. "You’re lucky we didn’t kick your ass then."

He hadn’t wanted the title. His father had demanded he join a club, and any club he joined, he had to lead. The Occult Club had seemed like the least effort. He hadn’t expected the position to come with so much madness.

"What makes you so sure this isn’t bogus too?" the President asked.

Kirito beamed. "It says so on the book cover. ’Guaranteed to work.’"

There was a beat of silence. Then the laughter erupted again.

"You’re kidding me!" one boy gasped, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Come on, look outside," Kirito insisted, standing. "The moon’s crimson—exactly like the book said it would be!"

The boys rolled their eyes.

"It’s a coincidence," one muttered. "The moon’s red all the time. Blood moons, lunar eclipses, pollution—pick your science."

Still, the ritual continued. Kirito, unfazed, placed red candles precisely at the cardinal points of the circle. He chanted solemn verses from the dusty tome in his hands. The others joined in half-heartedly, mocking the words or humming nonsensically just to pass the time.

Then came the blood.

"We’re supposed to offer a drop each," Kirito reminded them, holding out a ceremonial knife.

"Yeah, no thanks," one of the boys said, backing away. "We’re not cutting ourselves for this nonsense."

"Please!" Kirito pleaded. "We’ve come this far. You all agreed—"

But the others weren’t listening anymore. They were done humoring him. One of them grabbed Kirito by the collar, slamming him to the ground.

"You want blood? Here’s some!" he snarled, and the others joined in. They each punched and kicked until Kirito spat up a enough blood to be sufficient for each of them. It pooled beside the chalk symbols.

"Good enough," the President said coldly. "Let’s go."

But as they turned toward the door, it slammed shut on its own. The windows followed suit, crashing down with the finality of a prison lock. Even the curtains whipped closed, cutting off the moonlight.

"What the hell?!" one of them yelped, clutching the President’s sleeve.

"Relax," the President scoffed. "The place is old. Probably wind or faulty hinges."

He reached for the doorknob—but stopped. A breath, cold and dry as a tomb, brushed against the back of his neck.

Then, the candles went out.

Darkness fell like a curtain.

The room filled with sounds—not from outside, not from any speaker or prank. Faint, ghostly music played in their ears, strings and chimes that had no source. A woman’s voice began to hum, sweet and eerie.

One of the boys screamed.

"This isn’t funny anymore!" he cried.

"I’m serious!" another yelled. "I can feel it—it’s real! Something’s here!"

"Let’s leave!"

The President twisted the doorknob furiously, but it wouldn’t budge. Then they heard it:

"I don’t think so."

A voice, feminine and sultry, echoed from nowhere and everywhere at once. It wasn’t one of them. It wasn’t human. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

"Wh-what was that?" someone whispered.

Had the ritual worked? Had they summoned something? Was it going to kill them? Possess them?

None of them could move.

They were frozen—paralyzed by a force beyond their understanding.

The summoning had succeeded.

But none of them were ready for what came next.