Reincarnated with a lucky draw system

Chapter 210: BIRTH OF DREAM I

Years passed, and Abigail wove herself seamlessly into the fabric of Velira’s family, her heart finding solace in the warmth of their bond. Under Velira’s strict guidance, she refrained from using her abilities, the mana core’s seductive power locked away to preserve her fragile health. Life in their sanctuary was a balm, a stark contrast to the decades of torture and experimentation that had scarred her youth. The days were filled with simple joys—Liam’s laughter, Velira’s gentle wisdom, the quiet rhythm of a life unmarred by fear. For the first time, Abigail dared to believe in a future untainted by pain, a fragile dream of peace she clung to with quiet desperation.

But happiness, it seemed, was a fleeting guest. Misfortune struck with cruel inevitability, shattering the idyllic harmony like glass under a hammer’s blow. Velira, once a towering figure of vampiric might, lay frail and diminished on her bed, her once-luminous skin dulled to a sickly pallor, her breaths labored and ragged, each one a battle against an unseen foe.

”I thought I’d have more time,” Velira whispered, a pained smile tugging at her lips as she lay propped against pillows, the room heavy with the scent of medicinal herbs and the faint tang of impending loss. ”I underestimated the damage from the spatial disruption I endured.” Her voice was weak, yet her eyes still burned with a fierce, unyielding spirit, a testament to the strength that had defined her.

Liam, now twelve, clutched his mother’s hand, his crimson eyes brimming with tears that spilled freely down his cheeks. Seven years had passed since Velira had saved Abigail, and the boy had grown into a bright, spirited youth, yet the weight of his mother’s fate crushed his young heart, his sobs a quiet storm in the stillness.

”You know, I was terrified of leaving my son alone in this unforgiving world,” Velira continued, her smile unwavering despite the pain etching lines into her face. ”I didn’t know who to trust, who could stand by him when I’m gone. But now, I’m at peace, knowing he’s under your care, Abigail—someone who will keep him safe.” Her words, soft yet resolute, pierced Abigail’s heart, drawing tears that burned hot against her skin, each one a silent vow to honor Velira’s trust.

”There has to be a way to save you,” Abigail insisted, her voice cracking with desperation as she grasped for hope. ”Just give me time—I’ll find a solution, I swear it.” Her plea was fervent, a refusal to accept the inevitable, her mind racing with memories of Velira’s strength and kindness.

”It’s no use,” Velira replied, shaking her head gently, her smile tinged with sorrowful acceptance. ”No one in this world could fully comprehend my condition, let alone heal it. It’s too far gone.” She reached out, her trembling hand brushing Abigail’s, a final gesture of reassurance. ”Take care of my son. And please, don’t throw your life away by relying on that cursed ability.” Her warning was a final plea, her eyes locking onto Abigail’s with an intensity that burned through her grief.

Abigail nodded solemnly, her throat tight with unspoken promises as she and Liam watched Velira draw her final breath, her body stilling as the light faded from her crimson eyes. The room seemed to dim, the air heavy with the weight of loss, as if the universe itself mourned the passing of a titan.

”Ha. Finally. She’s dead,” a young woman’s voice sneered from behind, its sharp, mocking tone slicing through the somber silence like a blade. Abigail’s head snapped around, her heart seizing as she recognized the speaker—a diminutive figure with a tightly bound ponytail, her shark-like teeth glinting in a cruel smile, two short horns protruding from her head. Beside her stood a masked man, his own horns mirroring hers, the faint shimmer of a collapsing portal fading behind them, its edges crackling with residual energy.

”You,” Abigail hissed, her voice trembling with a surge of rage as she pulled Liam closer, shielding him with her body. Her eyes blazed with fury, boring into the ponytailed woman—Lyrith, the architect of her torment. These were the demons who had overseen the experiments that had shattered her childhood, condemning her to years of agony in that sterile hell. Their presence here, in this sacred space, was a desecration.