Then it lunged.
Mingxi moved instantly, snapping out his tail like a whip, slamming the revenant into the stone railing. Bone cracked against marble.
Nothing deterred it.
The revenant staggered upright again—faster, more desperate—its movements sharpened by something more deliberate than hunger.
“Why is it coming after me?” Penelope demanded.
“Revenants don’t choose their prey; they obey,” Mingxi hissed, intercepting another swipe before it reached her. “It must’ve been instructed.”
He shoved the creature back with brutal force.
“Someone sent it.” His amber eyes flicked to her. “For you.”
Penelope’s fingers tightened around the hidden object in her pocket. She didn’t seem to consciously notice or realize her grip had shifted. Her mind appeared to be centered on the creature and its unnatural fixation.
“Why me?” she demanded, breath sharp.
“Perhaps because you survived,” Mingxi said grimly. “Whoever did this massacre didn’t expect a witness. Perhaps they recognize you as belonging to this house.”
“Belong?” Penelope scoffed, sidestepping a splatter of blood. “I think not.”
The revenant crawled upright again, its movements jerky but purposeful. Its sunken eyes weren’t looking at her face.
All Mingxi saw was the creature homing in on its target.
“They’re tracking you,” he said, voice low. “Your magic. Your signature.”
Penelope’s eyes hardened. “All of them?”
“Yes.”
Her jaw tightened. “Then we end it.”
Before Mingxi could stop her, silver magic snapped outward, not uncontrolled, not wild—directed.
Penelope lifted her hand. A moonlit pulse flickered from her fingertips, striking the revenant in the chest. It recoiled with a silent, jagged gasp.
Mingxi stared. Not in shock. In calculation. Her magic wasn’t weak. Wasn’t accidental. Wasn’t the panicked thrashing of a new awakening. It responded to intent.
“Lady Penelope,” he said quietly, “that was not novice magic.”
“No, it was not,” she said evenly.
The revenant shrieked silently and lunged again—
Mingxi ended it swiftly, slicing his tail across its neck. The connection broke; the body collapsed into the fog with a hollow thud.
Silence descended, heavy and wrong.
Penelope remained very still, breathing slowly, one hand still cupped protectively over her pocket.
Mingxi stepped toward her. “Lady Penelope. Someone sent that thing to reach you.” His voice was low, controlled. “And we don’t yet know whether they meant to kill you… or take you.”
Penelope didn’t flinch. Her expression stayed cold, sharp, precise.
“That hardly matters,” she said. “Either intent is unacceptable.”
