Ex-Lover Married 99 Wives, Begged Me to Revive Him

My hands trembled as I picked up the dagger and sliced into my arm, already littered with scars. Blood streamed out, pooling steadily into the bowl below.

The women rushed forward, laughing giddily, dipping their hands into the warm crimson as if partaking in some twisted game.

“Oh, it feels so smooth!”

“The color’s even brighter than last time! My skin feels whiter already!”

Ever since Garrett discovered that my blood had beautifying properties, he had demanded this ritual—once a month, without fail.

Day by day, month by month, I withered.

My complexion faded to a ghostly pallor, until my strength finally gave out and I collapsed to the ground.

Garrett scoffed, his voice cold and condescending.

“Stop pretending. Aren’t elves supposed to have tenacious vitality? You’ve survived this long, haven’t you?”

I said nothing.

The housekeeper’s whip struck my back again.

“Get up! We haven’t extracted the spirit bone yet!”

I tried to push myself up, but my vision swam.

When the cross-shaped nail pierced my chest, I couldn’t even scream. With a sharp crack, my spirit bone—clear and radiant—was ripped from my body.

“Grind it into powder,” Garrett ordered, tossing the bloody shard to a servant.

“Elsie just gave birth. She can’t move much—boil it into soup and bring it to her.”

He turned to leave, glancing at me like I was nothing more than garbage.

Laughter and curses erupted around me.

“This is the elf who murdered your sister!”

“Filthy thing!”

“If her blood didn’t keep the 99 of us looking flawless, she’d have been dead already!”

They swarmed me—pinching, hitting, marking my skin with bruises—but I felt none of it.

The reek of filth dragged me back to consciousness.

A bucket of sour, yellow liquid was dumped over my head, soaking my matted hair and icy skin.

“Get these piss buckets cleaned up!” a servant snarled, kicking over another barrel.

I reached for the rim of a frozen container, my fingers barely moving, but someone kicked me hard in the back.

Splash!

The river in Silver Creek is bitter cold in winter. I flailed, the freezing water slicing through my skin. From the shore, I heard laughter.

“Look at that! Elves really don’t die easily!”

By the time I crawled out, drenched and shaking, my lashes were tipped with frost.

That’s when I saw him.

Garrett stood nearby, his brows furrowed as he stared.

“Your body…” His voice was low, puzzled. “Why is it glowing?”

I looked down. My arms had gone nearly transparent. A hollow smile touched my lips.

When an elf’s life is nearing its end, their body fades into transparency—a sign of approaching death.

Soon, I would vanish entirely.

“You’re still playing dumb?!” he snarled, grabbing my throat. “Tell me! What cruel things did you do to my sister?!”

My vision dimmed. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. My lungs burned.

Then he let go. I crumpled to the ground like a discarded doll.

Without warning, he tore off my ragged clothes and shamed me in front of the watching guards and servants.

The cold stone beneath me scraped at my skin. But I couldn’t move. I didn’t even flinch as he stripped away the last remnants of my dignity.

When it was over, he looked down at my limp, naked form with contempt in his eyes.

“Since your mouth is tougher than bone,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion, “throw her into the Valor Pit.”