It Turned Out She Wasn't a Favored Concubine - Episode 65

The high priest, wearing a tall ceremonial crown, slowly appeared on the gold-lined steps. Having meditated alone since the start of the hunt to discern the deity’s will, he had no knowledge of who had hunted which beast.

He peered into the white tent where the beasts were kept and raised a single finger to point.

The beast chosen by the high priest was brought to the altar, its blood spilled to serve as the main offering of the ritual. Once the ceremony ended, it was burned along with the other beasts. The priests dragged the chosen beast onto the altar.

The chosen offering was a wolf—the black wolf hunted by Giscal.

I pretended to cough and covered my face with my hand. I was relieved not to be toyed with by Erich and glad that Giscal had earned the highest honor of the autumn hunt. I glanced subtly toward the base of the altar. Giscal’s gaze shifted from the wolf he had hunted to me.

His proud red eyes locked onto mine. I lowered my hand and mouthed a silent “congratulations.” Giscal said something in return, but before I could read his lips, a priestess blocked my view.

“Lady Arne, this is your first time participating in the autumn hunt ritual, correct? Let me explain the procedure.”

She held out a black-lidded cup in front of me. Rosadel and Xenia also held identical cups. I accepted the cup from the priestess, and the liquid inside sloshed heavily. It was undoubtedly the blood of that wolf. Though gruesome, it was a tradition passed down since the founding of the empire—one I couldn’t reject.

“You will go after Lady Xenia. When it’s your turn, I’ll open the lid. Then, grasp the right handle with one hand, support the base with the other, bow halfway to the moon, and sprinkle the blood toward the ground.”

“Got it.”

Rosdel, already familiar with the procedure, bowed slightly to the moon and then sprinkled the blood toward the earth as instructed. Xenia followed suit. Though the explanation had come suddenly, watching the two before me made it easy enough to mimic. When the priestess opened the lid, a nauseating stench of blood wafted up.

The incense on the altar helped mask the smell somewhat, but finishing quickly was clearly the best option. I followed the priestess’s instructions, gripping the handle with one hand and supporting the base with the other.

I felt a rough texture on the bottom. At the same time, a black light engulfed me. My vision went dark in an instant.

“What the… Aaaah!”

A scream burst from my lips. I couldn’t help it—I was falling. Then, with a heavy impact, I landed on something warm and furry, halting my descent.

What was happening? Why had my vision changed? Overwhelmed with confusion, I tried to stand, only to feel thick fur beneath my hands.

Had I fallen into a pit of beast carcasses beneath the altar?

That blood-soaked pit of corpses—I scrambled to my feet in horror. But what lay beneath me wasn’t a lifeless body.

It was a living beast, its warmth still present. I screamed again at the sight.

A wolf—a massive gray wolf. Not the black one Giscal had hunted, but just as large. A fearsome predator of the dark forest, with sharp teeth and cruel claws.

Why was I sitting atop this merciless gray wolf? And… where was everyone else?

I turned my head frantically. But no one was in sight. Giscal, Erich, Louis, the hundred or so people surrounding the altar—all had vanished.

No, they hadn’t vanished. I recalled the last moment I saw.

The rough texture on the bottom of the cup—it was Motus. It had to be.

I had unknowingly touched Motus and been transported to this unknown place. Right onto the back of this giant gray wolf.

Something twitched. I couldn’t even scream as I looked down at the wolf. Its jaw was still pressed to the ground, and a long gash ran down its back, but it wasn’t dead. I could feel its warmth, and the twitch had come from its claw.

Sharp, cruel black claws—more than enough to tear through a fragile human body.

“Ugh!”

I clamped my hands over my mouth and slowly backed away. If the wolf was merely unconscious, it could wake at any moment and attack. I flailed my arms like legs, scrambling away as fast as I could.

I had to get away. Only then could I think about what had happened.

I crawled desperately, muffling my breath and moving silently. The thick dress Louis had prepared for the midnight ritual was now soaked in mud, but I couldn’t afford to care.

Once I passed through the underbrush and the wolf was out of sight, I ran with all my strength.

Had I ever run like this outside of gym class sprints? The uselessly pretty, uncomfortable shoes were long discarded.

I ran past the point of breathlessness, again and again. The fear of the gray wolf’s claws striking from behind drove me forward.

“Aah!”

A large rock finally tripped me. My bare foot scraped against it, and I tumbled into the thick undergrowth. Tough weeds slapped my face.

What was happening?

Panting on the ground, I tried to think. To teleport, I needed to touch Motus. And that required a fourth-stage Motus. Someone had embedded one into the cup.

“Who… who did this?!”

A cry of anger and resentment burst from my chest. But it didn’t carry far.

I was in a forest. Towering trees loomed overhead, and beasts roamed in search of prey. This was undoubtedly the Gilberan Forest on the outskirts of the capital, where the hunt had just taken place.

Perlo had said it—fourth-stage Motus was rare, and even then, its range was limited. I hadn’t traveled far. This had to be Gilberan Forest.

The problem was, Gilberan wasn’t a small hill—it was vast and dangerous, filled with wild beasts.

Alone, with no sense of direction, escaping safely was nearly impossible. If I encountered the gray wolf again—or any beast—I’d be doomed. I was no longer the hunter. I was the prey.

Death…

Clear and undeniable despair.

Whether discarded like a pawn or killed by Erich’s wrath, I had never imagined dying torn apart by beasts in a midnight forest.

“Hah… hahaha…”

Laughter bubbled up. Had I gone mad? The shaky laughter didn’t stop. I laughed as I slowly rose and leaned against a nearby tree.

Suddenly, the leaves rustled. A strong wind swept through, and cold leaves brushed my face as they fell. A chill enveloped me.

I clutched my dress with trembling fingers. At least Louis had insisted I wear something thick. Thinking of him made me want to cry. I wanted to sob and cling to him.

Tears welled in my eyes as I looked up. The slender moon hung like a pale lantern in the black sky. I had narrowly escaped death, yet the moon’s position hadn’t changed much since I last saw it on the altar.

What were they doing now? From their perspective, I had vanished from the altar. Surely they’d realize it was a Motus-induced teleportation and try to rescue me?

Giscal was there. If not Erich, then Giscal!

There was hope. If someone noticed the Motus embedded in the cup, the teleportation itself was simple. Just touch it.

Touch the Dimotus in the black cup, and you’d be transported to its pair—where I had seen the gray wolf.

Should I go back?

I looked behind me. Identical trees stretched in every direction. I couldn’t even tell where I’d come from.

Relying on instinct alone was too dangerous. I might stray further or run into the awakened gray wolf.

That would be the worst. I’d be killed before anyone could rescue me.

The wolf’s sharp claws tore through my body. Blood gushed from my mouth as I collapsed. The wolf approached, step by step.

Each pawprint left a deep impression in the mud. It leapt at the sound of my choking blood. Its teeth, still stained with unknown flesh, aimed straight for my throat.

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