No Entry Except for the Master - Chapter 76 - The End of the Storm

Knock, knock.

The sound of water droplets falling echoed softly. That clear, fragile sound eased the splitting headache pressing down on her head, if only slightly.

The rabbit cautiously opened her eyes. She couldn’t tell where she was.

She soon realized that her fur was soaked—drenched in blood. Though her whole body ached, she couldn’t find any wounds severe enough to cause such bleeding. Alarmed, she frantically examined herself.

“You’re finally awake.”

At the sudden voice, the rabbit’s fur stood on end

***.

Wary eyes stared into the darkness where the voice had come from. The figure who emerged from the shadows was someone she had met once before.

Hecate.

“Ah, so you remember that name.”

Even without her speaking, Hecate easily read the voice of her heart. He approached the rabbit, tapping one side of the iron cage lightly with his large hand. That was when the rabbit realized she was trapped—inside a strange cage in an unfamiliar place.

I want to get out.

She bit and rattled the bars of the cage beside her, but it was no use.

“I brought all your friends too. It’ll be our paradise again, just like before.”

Hecate’s voice was dreamy, almost elated, like he was caught in a trance. When he reached out to stroke her fur through the bars, the rabbit curled her body as tightly as she could, twisting and turning to evade his touch.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited for you?”

Even as she avoided his hand, he didn’t frown. Instead, his languid gaze swept across her entire body, as if licking her with his eyes. Though he didn’t actually touch her, a chill crawled across her skin.

“That moment was too horrible. To be left alone on that cliff, with nothing left but your blood…”

Though he looked at her, Hecate’s eyes seemed to trace something far off in the distant past—a vivid, unhealed scar from that day, forever etched in memory.

…Beep!

The rabbit finally realized who Hecate truly was. The most powerful and the last spirit who had stayed by her side until the very end.

The nameless spirit, recognizing her recognition, smiled with pure joy and pressed himself close to the bars. His eyes flashed sharply through the narrow gaps, fixated on her with a predatory intensity.

“I clutched the bloodstained soil where you fell and regretted everything. I should’ve listened. I should’ve done what you asked. Then you wouldn’t have had to die… You wouldn’t have left me behind.”

It had been an agonizing time of regret. No matter how much he begged forgiveness, the dead would not return. And from the man who had taken her away in the end, the spirit couldn’t reclaim a single piece of her.

“Still, I tried to protect those you loved. I stayed behind, guarding this place on my own. If only those beast-like wretches had never spoken your name…”

His voice, once soft with longing, suddenly turned cold. The dreamy look in his eyes flared into burning hostility. Hecate’s emotions changed so violently, it was hard to believe he was the same person. Lilith curled up as small as she could, avoiding his obsessive gaze.

The spirit had tried to make up for his actions, staying behind to protect the surviving werebeasts and the island. It had been his final chance at redemption.

But that chance was lost—shattered the moment he overheard a few worthless tongues wagging while he helped restore the village.

—“Still, this works in our favor, doesn’t it?”
—“Of course. The king’s gone, so we’ll choose a new one. That means we’ve got a shot too.”
—“Those who died were all weaklings anyway. Useless trash—it’s good they’re dead.”

He couldn’t forgive them. Not ever.

That the King of the werebeasts had given her life to protect them just for those filth to spit on his name—it made the spirit’s blood boil with rage.

The fallen spirit’s wrath was merciless. The savage wind that rose from his fury tore off limbs and sliced out tongues from the very mouths that dared to mock the dead. Even as the werebeasts screamed and bled, the spirit felt nothing. No sorrow.

The cursed spirit’s voice spread like a heavy fog, blanketing the entire island. And with everyone else gone, there was no one left to stop it.

All the werebeasts lost their ability to take human form. They became no different from ordinary animals. The spirit chased them off the island one by one.

Some drowned in the sea. Others, luckier, washed up on the lands of humans.

Thus, the werebeasts vanished from the continent. Cast out from paradise, they were reduced to mere creatures, groveling under human rule—begging for life, no longer proud, no longer free.

By the time the banished king returned to the island with his soldiers after their failed conquest, the island had already become a land of death.

There, he found only the body of his son. Crashed at the bottom of a cliff, half-decayed and unrecognizable.

The king recovered his son’s corpse and, to honor his sacrifice or so he claimed—he spread a lie. That they had won the war against the werebeasts.

From that king’s bloodline came the rulers who now write the history of the current Empire.

“I waited for you, all this time. I prayed you would be born again.”

Hecate opened the cage and thrust his arm inside. His outstretched hand closed in like a set of sharp pincers, trying to seize the rabbit.

Beep. Beep!

The rabbit struggled to escape his grasp, but the cramped cage left her nowhere to run. Hecate forcefully caught the small bundle of fluff.

Though her fur was soaked in blood, the warmth that filled his palm was vivid and unmistakable. The feel of her was real and tangible which made a shiver run down Hecate’s spine.

Just being able to touch her was enough to awaken every dormant cell in his long-dead body.

Hecate gripped the rabbit tightly in both hands. Ignoring her frantic squirming, he buried his face in her fur and took a deep breath. The air of exultation stung his long-dry throat.

Every numb sense in his physical body sparked to life again.

“Meeting you again at that festival… it might’ve been fate.”