Rosalind's eyes went red with rage. She called on her wolf's power and lunged at me.
But at the critical moment, a Sovereign Guard beside her seized her arm and hauled her back, his hand trembling as he pointed at the spectral shape coalescing above Edwin's corpse. A translucent wolf, black as the space between stars, lapping at the blood with a tongue made of violet fire.
"Lady Rosalind, look. Your junior sister's spirit wolf... something's wrong with it. It's drinking the blood on its own."
Rosalind didn't care. She scoffed. "Cursed relics never play by the rules. What's so strange about that?"
The soldier shook his head frantically. "No, you don't understand. You've only just ascended to Celestial Rank."
"In all the millennia since creation, there has only ever been one spirit wolf that craves the heart's blood of powerful wolves..."
Rosalind blinked, clueless. "What spirit wolf?"
The soldier's lips trembled around two words: "Soulreaper."
Rosalind's jaw dropped. The color drained from her face.