Blood of Immortals | Chapter 16

Chapter 16

“Make sure the knife pierces its heart,” Gideon instructed firmly.

“But how am I supposed to get close to it?” I whispered, peeking nervously from behind the rocks. The siren’s massive tail swished through the water, and I couldn’t help but imagine it sending me flying.

He gave me a look—one that was equal parts exasperation and encouragement. “Don’t be such a wimp, kid. I trained you. You’re stronger than you think.” He paused, his tone softening. “Regardless of your gender.”

My heart stopped for a moment. He knows.

I swallowed hard and nodded. “Okay.”

Before I could say anything more, the siren began singing again, her eerie melody filling the air. Gideon fell to his knees, his face slack as he succumbed to the spell once more.

“Gideon!” I called out, panic rising in my chest.

“Do it now, kid!” he barked, his voice strained but resolute.

I hesitated, gripping the knife tightly. I can do this! I told myself, even as my hands trembled. Keeping low, I began moving toward the siren, using the jagged rocks for cover. Every step felt like a gamble, my heart pounding with each ripple in the water.

Her voice grew louder, more haunting. I glanced back to see Gideon and the others, their vacant eyes locked on the siren, completely under her spell.

I gritted my teeth and pressed on, finally reaching a large rock just behind her. I crouched low, steadying my breathing. The singing abruptly stopped. Silence. Too much silence.

Curiosity got the better of me, and I raised my head just enough to peek over the edge. My stomach dropped. The siren was staring directly at me, her piercing eyes locking onto mine.

“You!” she shrieked, her voice echoing through the cavern. “Why are you unaffected by my voice?”

I froze, unsure of what to do. She narrowed her eyes, suspicion and fury swirling in their depths. “You’re no man!” she screeched, her voice turning into an ear-piercing wail. I clenched my teeth, resisting the urge to cover my ears. Instead, I tightened my grip on the knife.

With a burst of determination, I lunged forward, driving the blade straight into her chest.

For a moment, I thought I had failed. The siren staggered, her webbed hands clutching the hilt of the knife protruding from her chest. She let out a strangled gasp, her movements faltering as she tried in vain to pull the blade free. Finally, with a heavy splash, she collapsed into the water, lifeless.

It was over.

The men around me began stirring, their dazed expressions fading as they slowly regained consciousness.

“Kid!” Gideon called out, his voice hoarse but alive. I rushed over to him.

“Gideon,” I breathed, relief washing over me. “I—”

“Good job, kid!” he said with a grin, clapping me on the shoulder.

“Thanks…” I hesitated for a moment. “It’s Aroa.”

“What?”

“My name,” I said, standing a little straighter. “It’s Aroa.”

Gideon gave me a long, appraising look before nodding. “Alright, Aroa. Let’s get out of here.”

We managed to return to the ship just before sunrise. Of course, the crew eventually realized they had an extra passenger. Me. Gideon, ever the opportunist, attempted to demand a reward for my heroic efforts. The captain shut him down immediately, though he graciously allowed us to remain onboard without further questioning.

Days turned into weeks, and after fifteen grueling days at sea, we finally arrived at the land of the elves.

The elven territory was breathtaking—a vibrant, lush land overflowing with life. Everything seemed to shimmer with a quiet, magical energy. The villagers greeted us warmly, their smiles genuine and their hospitality unmatched. Even the village chief, Robin, welcomed us with open arms, offering food and a place to stay at the local inn.

Gideon wasted no time making himself comfortable, his eyes practically gleaming at the sight of the feast laid out before us. I, on the other hand, was content to finally take a long bath and sleep in an actual bed.

For a few peaceful days, everything seemed perfect. But then it was time to face reality.

“How do we find the gates?” I asked Gideon one morning.

“We’ll have to search,” he replied curtly.

“Why not just ask the elves? This is their land. Surely they would know where the gates are.”

“It’s not that simple,” he said, scratching his head.

“What do you mean?” I pressed. “Haven’t you used the gates before?”

“I have,” he admitted, “but that was decades ago, back when they were located in the Forest of Giants.”

“So… they move?” I asked, intrigued.

“They move.”

“But then how do other immortals travel to the demon realm without searching for the gates?”

“They use passes.”

“Passes?”

“They’re keys issued by the Royals to the leaders of demon clans,” he explained. “With a pass, you can summon the gates to your location.”

“So…” I said slowly, the gears in my mind turning. “If we find someone with a pass, we can summon the gates ourselves?”

Gideon narrowed his eyes at me suspiciously. “Kid, what are you scheming this time?”

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