The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts-Chapter 638: The Prophecy

Night wrapped the stone palace in a quiet that felt fake.

From the outside, everything seemed peaceful. The wind blew against the walls, bringing the smell of snow and distant smoke. In the courtyard, the flames in the braziers flickered weakly, making the guards’ shadows stretch long and thin like wary beasts.

Inside Isabella’s room, however, it did not feel calm at all.

Her back ached again.

She sat propped up with fur pillows, hugging a warm stone in both hands and glaring at the air in front of her as if that alone could strangle someone. Unfortunately, the someone she wanted to strangle right now did not have a physical body.

{Ding!}

{System is currently rummaging through ancient archives. Please do not disturb, or host will be charged an emotional disturbance fee.}

"...Bubu," Isabella said in a dangerously soft voice. "You are very brave for a ball of data."

Bubu’s voice instantly softened into a flattering tone.

{Hehe, host, I was joking. Joking. I treasure you more than my own loading bar.}

Isabella shifted a little, trying to find a position that did not make her waist feel like it had been beaten with lion paws. The babies pressed against her ribs with every breath, making her feel bulky and cute and extremely annoyed at the same time.

"Didn’t you say before that there was a prophecy about a Red Beast?" she asked. "The one Fifth City is obsessed with. The one tied to Cyrus."

Her heart tightened automatically when she said his name.

Cyrus was somewhere outside right now. She could imagine him even without seeing him, standing alone in some corner of the wall with snow on his hair, his pink eyes half-lowered, acting like a quiet guardian statue that did not know how to relax.

When she thought about how he had moved during the attack, how his aura had suddenly gone wild and suffocating, the snake mark on her chest tingled faintly in response.

That thing was not a simple mark. She knew it now.

{Yes, there is indeed such a prophecy,} Bubu replied, sounding a little reluctant. {But that content is part of a high-authority file. Not something ordinary systems should touch.}

Isabella narrowed her eyes. She did not move, but the irritation bubbling in her chest increased slowly. "High-authority. But you are digging it out anyway?"

{Of course,} Bubu said. {Who told host to choose the hardest route and hug all the dangerous people in the world at once? As your system, I have to be mentally prepared too.}

Isabella raised an eyebrow. "So it is my fault?"

{I did not say that.} Bubu coughed. {I am only implying it in a very delicate and respectful way.}

Isabella almost laughed despite herself. This stupid system always knew how to anger her and coax her at the same time.

She pressed one hand lightly over her chest where the thin clothes covered the faint outline of the mark. The warmth there was constant, as if something quietly slept under her heart, waiting.

She did not like that feeling at all.

"Fine. Show me what you can find."

There was a quiet hum inside her mind, as if layers of dust were being blown off old shelves.

For a moment, Isabella saw faint afterimages, as if a huge cold library stood somewhere behind her eyelids, filled with shelves that stretched into darkness.

A small glowing ball, which could only be Bubu, was trying to pry open locked drawers with its nonexistent fingers.

{Ugh...}

{This archive is really ancient. And messy. Does the higher authority not know how to name their files properly? Who names things ’final_final_real_version2’ and then never uses them?}

"It sounds like you are insulting yourself," Isabella commented. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

{Host, I am young and organized. This is clearly the work of an old system uncle with no sense of aesthetics. Ah, I found it.}

The teasing tone suddenly faded. Bubu’s voice became serious in a way that made Isabella unconsciously straighten up.

{Red Beast Prophecy Fragment.}

{Warning. File severely corrupted. Reading may cause emotional instability in host. Recommendation: host should take a deep breath, drink some warm water, and hold a handsome male’s hand before proceeding.}

Isabella looked at the empty air. "The handsome male is outside in the snow being traumatized by his past. Read it."

There was a beat of silence.

{...Okay.}

A faint string of words floated into her consciousness. They did not appear as neat text. They came like scattered voices, like someone had taken a prophecy and torn it into pieces, then thrown half of it into a fire.

{"...When the world’s veins tremble, a beast with hair like burning dusk will walk among mortals..."}

The image was so clear that Isabella could not help but picture Cyrus.

Red hair.

Not a bright, childish red, but that deep shade that reminded people of blood soaked into snow. When he fought, it seemed even darker, as if soaked with something ancient.

{"...its blood is the key that opens sealed gates, its roar shakes the heavens that turned away..."}

Bubu’s voice flickered. There was a sharp crackle, like damaged sound.

{"...those who bind it will drink power. Those who free it will... error... error... data missing... missing... missing..."}

The rest dissolved into noise. Isabella’s mind filled the silence on its own.

Those who free it will what?

Save the world? Destroy it? Be torn apart? All three at once?

Her hand tightened on the warm stone until her knuckles turned pale. She took a slow breath, forcing her heart to calm down.

She had always thought "prophecy" sounded very grand, the kind of thing that belonged in old stone temples and annoying priests’ mouths.

Now that the words scratched against her own life, she realized there was nothing elegant about it at all. It was just another chain.

"Red hair." She repeated softly. "God-shaking power. Blood that can open gates."

The more she said it, the colder she felt, even though the brazier beside her crackled warmly.