The moment Seiyad met those piercing eyes, a strange sensation overtook him. The power swirling within Ressas wasn’t inherently evil—but it was overwhelming. So much so that his mere presence felt like a threat. Goosebumps crawled across his skin, and his stomach twisted. It was suffocating just to remain there.
It seemed Seiyad wasn’t the only one who felt this way. Among the servants who had just broken free from the trance, some collapsed where they stood. But no one was more affected by Ressas’s power than Charlotte herself.
The instant an unseen ripple swept through the surroundings, Charlotte’s hand—reaching out to seize Seiyad—trembled violently. Like a beast furious at losing its prey mere inches from its jaws, rage twisted her once-composed expression into something grotesque.
“You—! A bastard not even worth tearing apart… You… again…!”
Her shrill voice cracked and echoed. A shriek full of fury followed—but as Ressas began to walk toward her, step by deliberate step, color slowly drained from Charlotte’s eyes. Her green irises quivered, then slid shut. The moment Seiyad sensed Aster had disappeared, she lost consciousness.
The moment her blood-soaked body collapsed into the grass, the thick fog around them thinned considerably. Ressas stared down at her fallen form with indifferent eyes, then slowly turned his head. When Seiyad met that inhumanly pale face, he fell silent. He had longed desperately to see Ressas—but his body refused to move. His feet wouldn’t budge. The Ressas before him felt like someone entirely different—someone unknown.
“Are you hurt, Eid?”
But the warmth in that gentle question, and the soft smile in those eyes, gradually disarmed him. Though his body still instinctively recoiled from Ressas’s overwhelming aura, Seiyad was certain: Ressas, at least, was not a danger to him.
“I…”
He wanted to say he was fine, but the words caught in his throat. With the corpses of knights at his back, he couldn’t claim to be okay. Gritting his teeth, he turned around with heavy dread. There, he saw the same creature’s corpse that had greeted him at the very beginning.
‘What is real anymore?’
Relief surged through him, only to be chased by fear. Was he finally losing his grip on reality, seeing hallucinations as truth? It was the very same state he’d experienced before a Rampage. Without realizing it, Seiyad visibly faltered.
“…Is this really a monster I’m seeing, Your Highness?”
His voice trembled as he clung to Ressas, unable to hide his fear. He had once been sure the Rampage in his past life was caused by Aster’s Purification. But if this was fate—if his very existence was the problem—then he was terrified.
As Seiyad began to collapse, Ressas held his shoulders and wrapped an arm around his waist. A firm, warm embrace supported him completely. Ressas pulled him close, hiding Seiyad in his chest as he whispered into his ear.
“Yes. I see the monster too. Whatever you saw earlier, it was just an illusion. Fog often clouds our eyes. You simply lost your way for a moment, Eid.”
The tenderness in that murmuring voice soothed his trembling. Only then did clarity return. Seiyad quietly raised his head to look at the one holding him. Though he had revealed a side unbefitting of a Tither, Ressas smiled as if it were nothing. His eyes still shimmered with gold, but that smile—it was unmistakably the Ressas he knew. His body relaxed all at once, and for the first time, he truly felt safe.
Still, a flicker of anxiety remained. What if Ressas, upon seeing his weakness, would turn away—just like Aster once did?
Ressas had never once rejected Seiyad since awakening. But this was the first time Seiyad had shown him fear. Unlike the times when Ressas tried to dominate him or demanded Purification first—this time, he was utterly lacking in every way…
“Tithers must never show weakness in front of others, Eid. We’ll postpone the Purification. Who would fear a Grand Duke from the North if he’s this pitiful?”
Aster had often said things like that before his death. It was a period when the side effects worsened and occurred more frequently. Back then, Seiyad believed him without question and endured it. But in hindsight, it had all been part of Aster’s scheme—to isolate him.
Chills ran down his spine. The suffocating serpent that had once coiled around his throat had vanished, but Aster’s obsession still clung to him like a leech. With a crushed heart, Seiyad took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay grounded.
Only then did he notice the confused servants still standing nearby. They wanted to check on Charlotte’s condition, but they were clearly terrified—by the monster’s corpse and by Ressas.
“We should start by sorting this place out. Were you with Stella or any of the other knights?”
With sincere gratitude, Seiyad gently brushed Ressas’s arm. Startled, Ressas looked down at him. Then, as if afraid of losing him, he pulled Seiyad into a firmer embrace, tightening the hold around his waist.
“That’s right. You were the only one swallowed by the fog, Eid. Now that it’s clearing, everyone else is safe—we’ll regroup soon. Don’t worry.”
Ressas lingered, tenderly stroking Seiyad’s back with a touch full of longing. Then, finally, he let go. His smile faded instantly as he surveyed the area. With a nod toward Charlotte, he gave a commanding order.
“I am Ressas Raman Solias, heir to the blood of the Sun. One of you will support Lady Charlotte. The rest—collect the corpses and guide us out of here.”
The atmosphere instantly shifted to chaos. The sudden appearance of a prince—and the presence of the Grand Duke they had only ever heard about—was overwhelming. And now, the lady they served had fainted. With the terrifying scene surrounding them, the servants hurried to obey, trembling with fear.
One of the stronger men, pale and stumbling to avoid the monster’s corpse, carefully lifted Charlotte. Several women who appeared to be maids clung to him, their steps unsure and faltering. The servants sent to gather the bodies gagged at the grotesque remains. Judging by their horrified cries, they recognized the faces of the dead.
Just before leaving the area, Seiyad turned once more to look at the monster’s body. It was far too human to be called a Nir’a—yet clearly not human. The grotesque form was chilling.
Ressas came up beside him and gently grasped his arm.
“There’s nothing good to be gained by looking at it.”
“Your Highness… do you know what that thing is?”
“I believe Asella would have the answer. He’s obsessed with uncovering ancient history, so he likely knows quite a bit.”
Ressas paused there, his lips twitching slightly as if something was weighing on him.
“Is there something you want to say?”
Seiyad offered him time, and after a few moments of silence, Ressas gave a small nod. Looking directly at Seiyad, he asked:
“Back then…”
Behind his now-faded golden eyes, a hint of violet emerged. In them stirred a mix of sorrow and worry.
“Were you really going to give yourself up?”
The question pierced straight through him. Seiyad averted his gaze. There was no pride in nearly surrendering—no comfort in the memory of that moment. But lying wasn’t an option either.
“If people were going to keep dying because of me… then I thought maybe it would be better that way.”
“That isn’t your fault. The blame lies only with those who’ve committed sins.”
“I know. You’ve told me that yourself, Your Highness. But… still…”
Seiyad spoke with raw sincerity.
“I just don’t want to see anyone die anymore.”
The wound that had slowly begun to heal tore open again, exposing its raw core. He couldn’t bear to become the reason someone’s death was justified.
“What about me?”
Ressas asked, just then. Seiyad faltered, momentarily unable to grasp the meaning of the question. Ressas’s dark brows drew together in quiet anguish.
“Am I not enough reason for you to stay? Have I still not been able to make you happy, Eid? Are you still lonely and sad?”
Ah.
Seiyad’s eyes widened. He hadn’t imagined Ressas would grieve over this. He had never guessed his actions might be interpreted this way—not by him. No one had ever feared the idea of Seiyad dying. No one had ever placed such meaning in it.
“I don’t know what to do to make you want to live.”
“Your Highness, I don’t want to die. I did come close to taking his hand, but at that moment… I also thought of you. I’m not lonely anymore. You made sure of that.”
Seiyad struggled to express himself fully, wanting to erase the sadness on Ressas’s face. He needed Ressas to know that even in that moment of hesitation, he had remembered him.
The sorrow hardened on Ressas’s lips softened slightly into a small smile. But it didn’t last—it dissolved like dust. He brushed Seiyad’s cheek with his fingers before slowly lowering his hand.
“You’re warm and gentle. I’m grateful you worried about me. I know you spent that time apart thinking of me, trying to be considerate. I can’t tell you how happy I was when you let me believe I didn’t have to deny my feelings anymore.”
As Seiyad listened to that whisper, something about it felt strangely off. Ressas’s words weren’t wrong—but that hadn’t been why Seiyad made those choices. He hadn’t done it for Ressas. He had done it because he wanted to.
“But I suppose I can’t be the reason you cling to life. If something like earlier happens again…”
His voice trailed off into a fading murmur. A vague, shapeless dread welled up in Seiyad, prompting him to grab Ressas’s hand.
“Your Highness, I didn’t give myself to the Devil.”
Ressas nodded. The sadness on his face disappeared, and he returned to his usual self with a smile.
“I know. You’re strong. That’s why you can’t stand by and let people die. But don’t worry.”
The fading gold in his eyes shimmered once more. The brilliant flicker, like a burning flame, flared for just a moment—then vanished completely.
“I will kill the Devil, even if I have to give up everything. What happened today won’t happen again.”
The weight of those words stirred the anxiety that had been simmering since earlier. It was already strange enough that Ressas had broken the suggestion and driven Aster out so suddenly—and now this declaration only fed into an ominous premonition.
It was suspicious, to be honest. If Ressas had always been able to break the illusion, he would have responded far more easily to the previous attack. But yesterday… he hadn’t.
Seiyad furrowed his brows, refusing to let go of Ressas’s arm.
“That’s a strange thing to say, Your Highness. ‘Giving up everything’—those aren’t words that should come from you. You know your safety is more important.”
“Don’t worry. It’s just a metaphor for how I feel.”
Like a flower blooming most brilliantly in the final moment before death, Ressas smiled radiantly, brushing aside Seiyad’s concern.
“Everything will be fine.”
His smile lingered like an afterimage, flickering at the edge of Seiyad’s vision. He wanted to keep asking questions—wanted to hold onto him. But Ressas showed no intention of continuing the conversation. When Seiyad refused to let go, Ressas gently peeled his hand away. He patted the back of Seiyad’s hand once, then turned.
“Let’s go, Eid. There’s much to do now.”
Like a wind too difficult to grasp, Ressas slipped from Seiyad’s grasp. He had always seemed like something that could be held—like a tree with roots. But now, he felt like something fleeting. The place where Ressas had just stood felt empty, like the still air left behind after the wind had passed.
