Chapter 115: The Cullens' House—He's Coming, He's Coming, He's Carrying a Big Crossbow!
Blood mist mixed with rain slowly fell, staining the lush grass an eerie dark red.
The thunder gradually faded, leaving only deathly silence in the clearing.
Every member of the Cullen family seemed frozen under a spell, rooted in place. Their supernatural senses allowed them to clearly smell the acrid, scorched scent of their kind turning to ash in the air.
The smell made them tremble instinctively.
The sole survivor, Laurent, was sprawled on the ground, his arrow-struck shoulder still smoking. The wound wouldn't heal—instead, it seemed to be continuously seared by an invisible force, causing excruciating pain.
He looked at Edward Connor as if staring at a demon crawled straight out of hell. Fear had completely shattered his will.
"What... what are you?" Laurent's voice trembled, cracking with discord. "A demon... you're a demon!"
Edward Connor blew on his fist, as if dusting off something that wasn't there, then looked at him with an expression reserved for complete idiots.
"You—a monster who lives by sucking blood—are calling me a demon?" He sounded like he'd heard the funniest joke of the century. "You're the demon. Your whole crew are demons."
He walked toward Laurent step by step, each footfall like a drumbeat on everyone's hearts.
Laurent scrambled backward on all fours, leaving a pathetic trail through the muddy grass. "Don't... don't kill me! I swear I'll never set foot in this territory again! I'll tell everyone this is your hunting ground! Please, just let me go!"
Edward Connor stopped, tilting his head as if genuinely considering the proposal.
"Really?" he asked.
Laurent saw a glimmer of hope and nodded frantically like a bobblehead. "Yes! I swear! I'll swear on anything!"
"Huh," Edward Connor nodded thoughtfully.
Then he raised his left hand and casually snapped his fingers in Laurent's direction.
"Psych."
SNAP.
A soft sound.
Laurent's expression of terror and pleading froze forever. The next second, just like James before him, he exploded into a cloud of blood mist without warning, unable to even scream.
A breeze blew, and the blood mist dispersed, as if he'd never existed at all.
Having finished, Edward Connor dusted off his hands with satisfaction, then turned to face the Cullen family with what he probably thought was a friendly smile.
"Hey, you guys—"
Before he could finish, he saw a blur of motion.
The Cullen family—including Emmett, who'd been in a fighting stance moments before—now looked like deer who'd seen a semi truck. Without the slightest hesitation, they bolted into the depths of the forest at supersonic speed, vanishing in an instant.
Their speed was more than ten times faster than when they'd run bases during baseball.
"..."
Edward Connor's greeting died in his throat. He looked at the empty clearing and scratched his head, somewhat bemused.
"Why run so fast? I'm not gonna eat you," he muttered, picking up the crossbow and hoisting it onto his shoulder. "At least not today."
At the Cullen house, the atmosphere was suffocatingly tense.
Edward Cullen, carrying a pale Bella, practically crashed through the door. Close behind were the other family members, each showing the lingering shock of near-death and unconcealed terror.
"Carlisle!" Edward Cullen's voice carried a tremor he hadn't even noticed.
Carlisle, the family patriarch, and the gentle Esme immediately rushed forward.
"What happened? Did Alice's vision come true?" Carlisle steadied the nearly collapsing Bella and asked urgently.
"Worse than that," Edward Cullen took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, but the image of vampires being instantly obliterated with bare hands kept replaying in his mind. "Three nomadic vampires showed up—James, Victoria, and Laurent. James is a tracker. He caught Bella's scent..."
He quickly recounted what had just happened. As he described how Edward Connor appeared and used that bizarre crossbow and unbelievable power to easily obliterate three powerful vampires like crushing cookies, Carlisle and Esme's faces showed the same horror as their children's.
"One punch... into blood mist?" Emmett added, his muscular frame now rigid with tension. "I swear, I didn't even sense any power buildup. He just... threw a punch."
"His weapon is terrifying too," Jasper spoke, his emotion-sensing ability making him miserable as the entire room radiated his family's intense fear. "The power in those arrows isn't physical—it's more like... divine judgment. Pure destruction and purification."
"He knows we're here," Alice said, hugging herself, her body trembling. "He absolutely knows! He came for us!"
Rosalie said nothing, but her fists were clenched tight, her beautiful face twisted with humiliation and dread. As vampires, they were experiencing the fear of being prey for the first time.
Carlisle's expression was grave. He paced the living room, mind racing.
A mysterious entity who could block thoughts, invade minds, wielded an unknown weapon, and possessed the ability to instantly kill their kind.
This Edward Connor had surpassed everything they'd learned in over three centuries.
"We need to leave," Esme's voice was tearful. She looked at her children. "Now! We can't stay here—he's too dangerous!"
"Leave?" Carlisle stopped, shaking his head bitterly. "Where would we go? We know nothing about him, but he seems to know everything about us. We don't even know if he's working alone. Running blindly will only make us easier targets."
Just then, a clear, cheerful doorbell suddenly echoed through the entire villa.
DING-DONG.
Instantly, all sound in the living room died.
Time seemed to freeze.
Every vampire went rigid. They were like a paused video, every face etched with primal terror.
It's Edward Connor!
The thought exploded simultaneously in everyone's mind.
He's here! He found us!
Alice's body trembled even harder. Her vacant gaze pierced through the wall, seeing the figure standing at the door.
The young man had one hand casually resting on the doorbell, while the other held that black crossbow—the one that had just slaughtered three vampires—slung over his shoulder. His face even wore a relaxed smile, as if he were just visiting neighbors.
He looked like a delivery guy who'd finished his route and was just ringing to confirm.
Except what he was delivering was death.
"He's... he's at the door," Alice's voice was barely a whisper, filled with despair.
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