The Bigshot's Superstar Wife - Chapter 155

Chapter 155: Blood Moon
Athena lay on her bed, her mind restless despite her exhaustion.

The image of the sword lingered behind her closed eyes, its dark aura, the pulsing energy, the feeling that it belonged to her.

She tried to recall the exact moment it had appeared, the cold, suffocating air in the forest, the creatures closing in, and then the warmth that had filled her veins.

The words she spoke, the light that engulfed her, the way her hand instinctively reached for the sword… none of it felt unfamiliar.

It was as if the memory of that power had been buried deep inside her, waiting to surface at the right moment.

Her teammates had witnessed what happened, but their accounts didn’t match her experience.

Darren swore he only saw a swirling mass of purple energy, shifting and twisting like smoke. Lisa had described the shape of a sword made of shadows.

Even Mr. Yao, who seemed to know more about this curse than anyone, claimed he had never seen a sword, only the flickering form of violet light in Athena’s grasp.

But Athena knew what she had seen. The sword wasn’t just a shape or energy, it was real.

The cold hilt in her hand, the sharp edge glowing faintly beneath the dark aura, it wasn’t some illusion.

She had felt it, moved with it, like her body had wielded the weapon countless times before.

The sense of familiarity wasn’t something she could ignore. It felt as if the sword had chosen her, as if it had always been waiting.

It was almost dawn when Athena’s mind finally surrendered to sleep.

A week later, the variety show resumed as scheduled. Despite the chilling events that had unfolded, the crew was determined to continue.

The village needed the publicity and financial support the broadcast would provide.

But the director, aware of how shaken everyone had been, gave the cast and crew a day off to prepare for the upcoming broadcast.

They planned to stream a special segment about the red blood moon, a rare celestial event that would turn the night sky crimson.

For Athena, this break was exactly what she had been waiting for.

As night fell, the air turned colder, and an unsettling silence spread across the village. The cheerful chatter of the crew and villagers grew quieter as the sky darkened.

The blood moon’s arrival seemed to bring an unnatural stillness, as if the earth itself was holding its breath.

Athena stood outside, watching the crimson glow bleed across the sky. The air seemed to ripple, a faint distortion that blurred her surroundings.

The village’s lights dimmed, flickering and sputtering as if something was draining their energy. Then, without warning, everything changed.

The crew vanished. The houses, the streets, and the familiar voices, all gone.

Athena found herself standing alone in the middle of the forest, right where the villagers had burned offerings.

The faint scent of ash lingered in the air, and the twisted trees loomed like silent watchers.

Then it appeared.

The sword hovered before her, wreathed in shadow and violet light. Its aura pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat, and Athena’s fingers tingled as if drawn to it.

Before she could think, her hand stretched forward and grasped the hilt.

The cold metal felt like ice against her skin, but the moment her fingers wrapped around it, warmth surged through her arm, powerful and intoxicating.

Dark figures began to emerge from the shadows. Their eyes glowed like dying embers, and their twisted forms seemed barely human.

But worse than the figures themselves were the faces, familiar faces, twisted into expressions of torment.

Children, parents, villagers, their features distorted and warped by pain. Their hollow eyes locked on Athena, and a dreadful understanding sank into her chest.

These were the souls trapped by the curse. The same souls she had once heard whispered about in fear. Athena clenched the sword tightly. She knew what she had to do.

With swift determination, she raised her left hand and sliced her thumb along the blade’s sharp edge. Blood flowed down her finger, dark crimson against the blade’s violet glow.

The moment her blood touched the sword, its aura flared brighter, a surge of energy that filled her veins with strength.

The air hummed, and the ground beneath her seemed to tremble. The dark souls lunged.

Athena moved instinctively, swinging the sword in a wide arc. The blade slashed through the shadowed figures, and each time it struck, the dark souls shattered like brittle glass.

Where their twisted forms vanished, shimmering red butterflies emerged, glowing softly before drifting away on the wind.

Each delicate wing seemed to carry away a faint whisper, a voice finally freed from its torment.

The souls came in waves, some crawling, some gliding like phantoms. Athena danced between them, her body moving with unnatural precision.

The sword seemed to guide her, twisting in her hand as if it had a will of its own. Each strike released another burst of glowing butterflies, crimson sparks scattering across the night sky.

Athena didn’t know how long she fought. The endless tide of cursed souls seemed infinite, yet her body never faltered.

The golden runes appeared on her skin again, glowing brighter with every soul she freed. Sweat clung to her face, but her grip on the sword remained firm.

Then, at last, silence returned.

The red glow of the blood moon began to fade, its eerie light retreating behind the clouds. The air no longer felt heavy, and the cold that had seeped into her bones lifted.

The forest, once filled with unnatural whispers, had grown quiet.

The sword’s glow dimmed, and Athena knew the battle was over. The last red butterfly drifted away, vanishing into the distance.

Athena stood in the clearing, exhausted yet calm. The curse had been lifted. The souls were free. When the morning sun rose, the village was no longer shrouded in unease.

The air felt lighter, and the villagers who had once whispered about the curse now walked with relief in their steps.

Children laughed as they played outside, and the haunting melody that once tormented the forest had been silenced.

Athena sat quietly outside Mr. Yao’s home, the faintest flicker of violet energy lingering in her palm.

The sword was gone, but she knew it wasn’t lost. It was waiting, somewhere in the shadows, hidden yet connected to her.

“You ended it,” Mr. Yao said, standing beside her.

“No,” Athena replied softly. “We ended it.”

Mr. Yao smiled faintly. “Whatever happens next… you’ve earned your peace.”

But deep down, Athena knew her journey wasn’t finished. The sword’s energy still whispered in her blood, a quiet reminder that some evils never stay buried for long.