chapter 6

Just as I surrendered to my fate, an angry shout thundered from nearby.

“Filthy beast! You’re courting death!”

The voice sounded familiar. Before I could place it, a foul, bloody liquid splashed across me and the surrounding weasels.

I had no idea what was happening. The orderly pack suddenly scattered like headless flies.

Within seconds, every weasel had vanished into the trees on either side of the path.

I stared after them, then sagged like a punctured ball.

Physical and mental exhaustion struck at once, and I collapsed to the ground.

“Good thing I heard you shout. Otherwise the village would’ve been searching for your corpse tomorrow.”

I lifted my eyes weakly. A shadow approached and crouched before me. Only in the moonlight did I recognize him.

Grandpa Eighteen.

He hauled me upright and scolded, “Stubborn brat. I warned you, but you insisted on keeping vigil. Do you understand now?”

He walked ahead without caring whether I listened.

“I knew the creature would come for you tonight. The talisman at your gate kept it out of your yard. You would’ve been safe as long as you stayed inside.”

He glanced back at me. “I never imagined you would walk out on your own.”

“Fortunately, I couldn’t put the matter out of my mind and slept lightly. Otherwise your parents would have buried another son.”

Watching his back, I asked, “Is this how my brother died?”

“Yes.”

“Grandpa Eighteen, what am I supposed to do now?”

He turned. “If you want disaster to settle over your family, go straight home and resume the vigil.”

“Of course I don’t.”

“Tomorrow, I’ll tell your parents that you’ve already returned to the city,” he said as he continued toward his house.

I hesitated, then followed.

If his warning was true, I might lose my life and drag my parents into the danger with me. I could not risk such regret.

He led me into his backyard, where a foul odor struck my face.

“You keep a lot of chickens and ducks, Grandpa Eighteen.”

There were at least several dozen birds in his pens.

“A few domestic birds help with the household expenses,” he answered flatly.

He pointed to the last room at the rear of the yard. “The ritual of a weasel seeking a human’s blessing can last no more than three days. Sleep here for the next few days. I’ll make sure those beasts cannot find you. Once the three days pass, you’ll be safe.”

I studied the room. It was crude, but it had sheets, blankets, and everything else needed for sleep. I could endure it.

Still uneasy, I asked, “What about tonight?”

Grandpa Eighteen chuckled. “You broke its cultivated form once tonight, which cost it much of its power. My black-boned chicken blood weakened it further. This is the feeblest it will ever be.”

“The room may look shabby, but peachwood is buried in all four walls. You can sleep without fear.”

His assurance loosened the knot in my chest.

After he left, I dropped onto the brick bed, exhausted in body and mind.

Everything that had happened lay beyond anything I understood. The creature’s face kept rising before my eyes.

I pulled the quilt over my head. Half an hour passed before I finally drifted into a troubled sleep.

Even in my dreams, the beast chased me. I slept so lightly that the faintest noise above my head snapped me awake.

I sat up at once and stared warily into the black rafters.

After what I had been through, even the smallest sound could set my nerves on fire.

The noise came again a moment later, much softer this time.

Judging by its movement, whatever made it had reached the edge of the roof.

I spun toward the window.

There it was.