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The Priestess and the Jiao Ren: I Foresee Your Betrayal
墨書 Inktalez
I have lost my memory.
When I woke up, I found myself imprisoned beneath the deep sea, with a dark iron chain wrapped around my wrist, inscribed with incantations.
My memories are like a beach washed away by the sea, leaving only scattered fragments—a silver-haired boy calling out to me, "Sister."
The ceiling of my cell is made of transparent glass, and outside, bioluminescent jellyfish swim gracefully, casting a dim glow throughout the room.
I often find myself staring at those jellyfish, trying to retrieve something from their faint light. But each time I attempt to remember, a sharp pain shoots through my head as if it might split open.
The chain rubs against the wounds on my ankles, and every struggle brings forth new beads of blood.
I count the seven scratches on the wall; that is all I can remember of the days that have passed.
Outside my cell stand two guards from the Jiao Ren Clan. From their conversations, I learn that my name is Xing Yao, and I am the Saintess of the Witch Clan, as well as the last Astrologer of my people.
Cang Ming, the leader of the Jiao Ren Clan, led an army to massacre the Witch Clan's sacred ground, and the flames from the Astrology Platform illuminated the entire sea.
That night, nearly all my kin perished, and since being captured, I have remained confined in this underwater prison.
"You are more resilient than I imagined." The delicate sound of a pearl curtain mingles with Xi Yue's voice as it drifts in.
She is the High Priestess of the Jiao Ren Clan, overseeing the rituals and punishments within the tribe.
The first time I saw her, she wore a moon-white robe and smiled gently at me, yet instinctively, I sensed her danger.
Standing before me, her fingertips brushed against my face. "Is this pain worth it?"
I slightly turned my head to evade her hand. "Did the High Priestess come here to humiliate a prisoner?"
"I came to show you something interesting." She waved her long sleeves, and a figure of a Silver-Haired Man emerged on the water's surface—he held a bloodied trident, surrounded by hundreds of floating corpses.
My nails dug into my palms as the metallic taste of blood surged in my throat.
Those fragmented images finally coalesced into a complete memory: he was Cang Ming, the leader of the Jiao Ren Clan. On Lunar Eclipse Night, Cang Ming led the Jiao Ren in a bloodbath against the Witch Clan's sacred ground, the flames from the Astrology Platform illuminating the entire sea.
"Do you remember now?" Xi Yue gripped my chin, forcing me to look up. "The smell of blood you sense now is exactly like it was back then."
Suddenly, her fingertips glowed with eerie blue phosphorescence, and the chains around my wrists snapped apart.
Footsteps approached through the blood-soaked ground.
A tall figure drew near, and for some reason, he felt familiar.
He was Cang Ming, the king of the Jiao Ren Clan, with silver hair and clad in black. His tall frame was imposing, and beneath his scaled robe, dark red patterns faintly revealed themselves on his back.
That was the seal of the Witch Clan. Although I had lost my memory, my fingertips trembled instinctively—as if someone had once held my hand, etching the shackles of this imprisoned dragon with every stroke.
He grasped my chin, his fingertips as cold as the deepest abyss of the ocean: "The blood of the Witch Clan is indeed as repulsive as ever."
His silver hair fell over my blood-stained collar. As his sharp fangs pierced my neck, a vision suddenly flashed before my eyes—a dagger plunging into my heart, wielded by none other than him.
"You will kill me..." I gasped, clutching at his sleeve, "to carve out my heart and end my life."
Cang Ming shook off my hand, a smirk curling at the corner of his lips stained with my blood: "If given a choice, I would rather tear the Witch Clan to pieces."
As he turned away, the hem of his robe brushed against my trembling fingertips. "Unfortunately, your life must be preserved to break the seal."
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