"Ki–kill him?"
"Yes, kill him."
Ryan's fingers curled slightly. The words were too casual, too final. He turned to Seraphina, expecting hesitation in her eyes, but there was none. The cold gleam in them reminded him of steel—unyielding, unshaken.
She wanted to toughen him up, he realized. Unlike Lysandra who underestimated him, who wanted to coddle him, his sister had never been the type to do that. Seraphina had always demanded capability and talent from him.
She pressed something cold against his palm. He glanced down. A blade. Mirror-polished, reflecting his face—pale, uncertain.
"Don't you want to torture him for information?" His voice came out weaker than intended.
"Already done, Ryan."
His grip tightened around the hilt. "Does Mom know?"
"She knows he was captured. She doesn't know you're the executioner. And she doesn't need to."
Silence stretched between them. The assassin lay tied before him, his breathing uneven, shallow.
"Do it," Seraphina said.
Ryan stepped forward. The blade felt heavier with every inch he closed between them.
The assassin groaned, a drop of saliva dripping weakly from his open mouth.
Ryan's hand faltered.
This was a human being.
Someone who had the same emotions he had. Someone who had probably laughed about something, someone who had his own pains. Someone who might have once been a lonely teen.
This person must have enjoyed his first kiss with someone just like Ryan did. Or maybe, he hadn't even experienced his first kiss yet.
"Seraph…"
"This person tried to kill you, Ryan!" she said, voice ice cold. "He didn't show you any mercy. All he thought about was money when he ordered his Familiar to take your life."
The knife trembled in his hand.
Her next words were softer, slower, but they struck like a blade to his chest.
"What if I told you I was his target first?"
His breath hitched.
Her voice was quiet, yet he felt each syllable carve into him.
"What if I told you he would have raped my corpse?"
"Stop." His fingers curled so tightly around the blade his knuckles turned white. "Stop. I'll do it."
She stood behind him, wrapped her hand around his waist, and pressed her face into his back. "Do it. I am here."
"I just… need time."
Her hold stiffened.
Ryan took a deep breath.
"I will kill him but if I am going to kill him anyway, I want to make use of him all the way."
She frowned.
He continued. "I—have something to tell you. Not here. Just give me a moment."
A flicker of hesitation crossed her face before she nodded.
Ryan felt as if a weight had left his chest as they left the hidden room in silence.
Oh god he hated such drama. Instead, he would have preferred to just kill the man and get it over with.
It is true what she says, his heart became colder. My enemies wouldn't show mercy.
This man had killed him once.
In fact, the assassin would have killed Seraph if he could. The only reason the target became Ryan was because Seraphina was strong. If his sister had been weak, she would be the one dying.
And I still hesitate to kill him?
Was he even worthy of looking at his family's eyes?
Were their lives less important than his moral illusions?
In his heart, Ryan killed the man. At the same time, some part of him was also abandoned.
But if I am going to kill him, I should make the best use of him.
…
The rain hammered against the windows, drowning the room in a constant, rhythmic roar. Wind slipped through the cracks, carrying the cold with it, making the candlelight flicker.
Thunder rolled in the distance, growing closer.
It mirrored his mind.
Seraphina sat on the edge of the bed, her silver eyes scanning Ryan up and down. Her silver eyes grew softer. Shadows passed over his face, but she could still see the exhaustion.
"You look weary," she said.
Ryan exhaled through his nose and moved closer to her.
"Oh, shut up," he muttered, pushing her back onto the bed. The mattress dipped beneath her weight as he pinned her wrists above her head. "You were practically guilt-tripping me into murder. Of course it's weary."
Seraphina rolled her eyes. "I never lied."
He threaded his fingers through hers, his grip firm.
She looked up at him, her expression unreadable.
The rain outside filled the silence between them.
"Now," she said, voice quieter, "what did you want to tell me?"
He tightened his hold just slightly, then closed his eyes.
It was better to show her than tell her.
Level 1 Skill—Vitality Theft.
Yet, it didn't go as he expected.
Level 26 Mage Art—The Wind's Protection.
Green runes surfaced along Seraphina's skin, glowing in time with her heartbeat. A passive defense—one that had sensed danger before she did. But that wasn't what made her breath hitch.
Her silver eyes went wide.
"Do it again," she ordered, cheeks flushed. "Now!"
"Don't order me around," he grumbled.
This time, he switched tactics.
Level 1 Skill—Apex Predator.
Immediately, Seraphina felt his aura become heavier. His body pressed down on her own Martial Body, much weaker but with a weight to it. She felt as if, instead of her naive, cute, and stupid brother, something predatory was looming over her.
But the feeling was soft, as if it were just a predator's cub and not the predator itself. It was not even closely enough to intimidate her but the change was clear.
Now she knew for certain.
"You… awakened!"
But how?!
"Heh, things happened!"
She stared at him in stunned silence.
Her heart tightened.
Ryan didn't see the way her hands clenched. Didn't hear the breath she swallowed back.
He didn't know.
Didn't know what she had known all her life.
Her mind became a mess.
Ryan, her little brother's soul had always been incomplete. He was born broken, deformed, and incapable of creating a trainable constitution. But nobody had told him that, nobody had ever had the heart to tell him that he was fundamentally flawed.
All her life, Seraphina had blamed herself for that. The Healers, including her mother, had come to a simple conclusion as to why Ryan was born with only half a soul.
It was clear.
When they were in the womb, Seraphina—his twin—had absorbed the missing half of his soul.
That made it clear why she was born with two Classes while he was born with none. Why she was so talented, while he so useless.
All her life, Seraphina had felt like a monster who stole her younger brother's happiness.
Seraphina clenched her jaw.
I don't want him to see me cry…
The tremor in her hands reached her shoulders, then her throat. She barely had time to shove his face against her neck before the first sob cracked through.
Ryan stiffened.
"H-hey—?"
She dug her nails into his back, forcing him to stay there.
She bit her lips.
He didn't move anymore.
Didn't question it.
Instead, she felt him press a kiss to her skin, slow and nervous.
Her shoulders trembled harder.
"Hic…"
She tried to swallow it back, but it was useless.
"If you—if you awakened, just tell me, you bastard—"
Tears slid past her chin, spilling onto his hair. She sobbed, loud and ugly, snot and all, and she did not care to hide anymore.
Ryan went rigid.
The fact that he had awakened was good, but—
Why was she crying like he'd died?
Damn.
Ryan stared at her neck in helpless incomprehension. He couldn't even push her arm aside due to her iron-like strength.
Damn.
Nobody had ever taught him how to handle a crying woman.
So he just rained kisses across her neck.
After a moment, Seraphina hugged him back, pulling him closer. Then, still hiccuping, she pressed her lips to his neck, returning what he had done for her.
Neither of them spoke.
The rain outside slowly softened into a drizzle.
Minutes and then an hour passed.
And, somewhere between exhaustion and the weight of the years between them, they fell asleep in each other's arms.
They hadn't slept like that since so long. Ryan hadn't even gotten the chance to explain his Class.