Chapter 31 Yiran
Yiran
Night had fallen, and it was hard to see anything but the silhouettes of trees. From what Yiran could tell, he was on the
outskirts of the city, somewhere rural. A city boy through and through, he didn’t know how to navigate without street signs
or a map app. His best option would be to hitch a ride if he could find one. But would anyone pick up a teenager covered in
blood on a deserted stretch of road? He patted his pockets, grimacing as pain flared in his broken finger joints. His phone
was gone, but he found his glove and, by some miracle, his wallet. Cash could be convincing.
He had to find help. He had to tell Ash everything he’d seen and heard. He had to get home. But the thought of home brought memories of the people who were part of it.
Think carefully about what your grandfather did. Was he really trying to draw magic from you?
What did Song Liming mean by that?
Focus on getting out of here. Everything else can come later. Ignoring the shooting pains in his ankle and shoulder, Yiran urged his weary legs forward.
Hunger gnawed at his belly, and his injuries felt worse by the minute. A chilly breeze rustled the leaves, and he shivered.
He was losing hope when he heard the honk of a car. He stopped walking, listening intently. The rumbling in the distance sounded
like wheels of heavy trucks on tarmac. Relieved, he limped toward the noise, suddenly noticing that he could see more clearly.
The clouds had parted, and the full moon was shining brightly.
Get to the road. Don’t think about it—
There was something hanging in the air in front of him.
A silvery wisp like the slime track left by a snail. Another one appeared. Then another, farther away in the trees to his right.
Fear ravaged his insides. His legs refused to move. Desperately, he pulled on his glove. It’d worked earlier in the Simulator.
Would magic save him again?
The sound of many feet scuttling in the dark finally kicked him into flight mode. Headlights flashed through the trees as
he ran, illuminating his surroundings.
He saw the first one. Grotesque mottled gray torso and skinny limbs. Drool dripping from its disfigured jaw. He tried to run.
But his sprained ankle gave way, and he slipped on the frosted ground.
The Revenant snarled, its head twitching in his direction.
Yiran tried to channel, but sickness rose in his stomach. He’d survived his fight with Noah, he’d discovered who the leader
of the Hybrids was and walked free, and now . . . this? This was how he was going to die? A forgotten body in the middle of nowhere.
As he retched, his vision doubled. Guttural shrieks filled his ears. He couldn’t tell if he was surrounded by shadows or Revenants.
Whatever they were, they were coming closer.
Then something else—a streak of white in the darkness. Flashes of violet dancing in the night like a light show as the savage
cries subsided.
You’re delirious. You’re imagining things, Yiran thought as he crumpled to the ground.
Cold hands wrapped around his arms as someone said wryly, “Look who we have here. I guess even Prince Charming himself needs
saving sometimes.”