“…What do you mean by that?”

Hyperion, who had been withering like a broken tree, looked at Dione with rare clarity in his eyes. As if enjoying the shock that filled them, Dione met his gaze calmly and opened her mouth.

“Just as I said. Adonis can no longer remain in our tribe.”

“Why… Didn’t you promise to protect him?”

“Of course I did.”

“Then why…!”

“I also said, unless something unusual happens. You remember that, don’t you?”

Dione smiled sweetly, as if changing their agreement as easily as flipping her hand over caused her no guilt whatsoever.

“I’m very sorry that it’s come to this. But there was no helping it. Everyone says we haven’t been able to gain the upper hand because of that impure child. I have a duty to ease their worries, don’t I?”

“Lady Dione, please have mercy…!”

Hyperion fell to his knees at her feet and pleaded.

His brother hadn’t even lived nine full years. To exile such a young child was no different than sentencing him to death.

But no matter how desperately he begged, Dione would not revoke her decision. Instead, she leaned down herself and whispered into his ear.

“So why didn’t you try harder not to disappoint me?”

Hyperion’s pupils quivered. Dione looked down at the tremor in his gaze with satisfaction and pulled up the corners of her lips.

“But who knows. If you give me a more perfect world than this one, I might be willing to accept his existence after all.”

The voice that had crushed him with despair now breathed hope back into him. With blurred eyes, Hyperion looked up at the woman gazing down on him like a god.

“A more perfect world…”

“Yes. I mean the future where I rise to the absolute pinnacle of this world.”

Dione’s image shimmered across Hyperion’s tear-filled vision. It was a voice so sweet it felt like his tongue might ache if he swallowed it. Like honey laced with poison.

“So this will be a decision for everyone’s sake.”

But did he really have another choice?

Dione had been the only one in the tribe who ever reached out to save him. If he didn’t follow her words, he had no idea what else he should follow.

That helpless, aimless devotion shattered Hyperion’s judgment. Even leaving Adonis alone in the abandoned village began to feel like something he was doing for his sake.

“Adonis. Hide well around here, okay? I’ll come back for you very soon…”

Adonis, though his eyes brimmed with tears, nodded bravely.

Hyperion left behind all the food and supplies he might need to survive for a while and forced himself to take steps he couldn’t bear to take.

After that, Hyperion charged at the enemy with more fury than ever before. It was only natural. He could no longer afford to hesitate.

The Tribe of Darkness once again began to retreat in the face of his aggression, and the morale of the Tribe of Light also began to rise once more.

“You won’t be passing this point.”

Naturally, after raging at the front lines like that, there came a day when he faced Serpina.

He couldn’t take his eyes off the woman atop a sleek black horse pointing her sword at him, and Hyperion raised his own blade without hesitation.

“Go ahead and try to stop me.”

Every time their blades clashed in the fight for each other’s throats, the air bristled with killing intent sharp enough to sting his skin. It felt as though the days when they once welcomed each other had never existed.

Yet every time he crossed swords with her without yielding an inch, every time they stared each other down as if to kill, Hyperion was consumed by a feeling he couldn’t explain.

That he didn’t want to look away from the eyes filled with the desire to kill him. That perhaps… he even wanted to look into them longer.

‘Have I finally gone mad?’

He diagnosed his state with frightening clarity. Surely, he thought, he must’ve gone insane—numbed and broken by the reek of blood. No one in their right mind would feel this way.

The only relief was that even in his madness, he could still swing his sword without issue.

So, he choked down his nauseating desires and raised his blade day after day. And each time, he returned alive, covered in dirt and blood.

Repeating this bloody routine, whenever he happened to find a moment to breathe, Hyperion would always seek out his brother.

Perhaps because morale had risen again, or perhaps because no one had noticed his nighttime excursions, no one stopped him.

“Adonis?”

Then one day, Hyperion went to find Adonis as usual—only to find the house empty.

Alarmed, he followed the traces he had left behind.

“Adonis!”

He shouted his name in a panic as he ran deep into the forest. Then, from the ground, Adonis poked his head out to greet him.

“Brother!”

Adonis had been hiding inside some kind of underground burrow. As he followed him into the tunnel, Hyperion demanded answers.

“What happened? And what is this place?”

“Well, a kind person gave me this hideout. They said it was a safe place where no one would find me. So I moved here.”

“What…?”

Hyperion couldn’t hide his bewilderment as he looked around the burrow. It was surprisingly cozy, and seemed like a place Adonis could manage on his own.

“Who gave you a place like this?”

“Well, that’s…”

Adonis trailed off. He looked genuinely troubled, so Hyperion didn’t press further. He didn’t feel he had the right to question him, not when he was the one who had left him alone in the first place.

Instead, he began visiting him more often to check on his well-being. Thankfully, Adonis seemed far more stable now than when he’d first been left alone.

“I’m glad to see you’re doing well.”

“I told you, didn’t I? You don’t need to worry about me, Brother. Please take care of yourself first. I’m always scared you’ll get hurt.”

“As if someone like me would get hurt so easily. I’ve got healers for that.”

“Even so, it still hurts, doesn’t it?”

Adonis was now the only person in Hyperion’s world who could truly empathize with his pain. Once, there had been one other—but that was as good as gone now.

So Hyperion wished that Adonis would never have to suffer. Even if he had to crawl through the dirt and writhe in the pain of his wounds, he hoped he could live in peace, untouched by agony. If that were possible, then no matter how much he had to endure, he would bear it.

“No matter what happens to me… As long as you’re okay, that’s enough.”

“Brother…”

“So you should be grateful to the benefactor who gave you this place. At the very least, you won’t be caught up in the war while you’re here.”

“……”

Adonis’s expression noticeably darkened. It was a look he often showed whenever that unnamed benefactor was mentioned, so Hyperion tried to brush past it as usual and steer the conversation elsewhere.

But for some reason, that day, Adonis hesitated, then slowly opened his mouth.

“Um, Brother. Actually…”

But he didn’t get to finish his sentence. At that moment, the thin stone slab covering the burrow was pushed aside, and someone suddenly appeared.

Hyperion instinctively cast a sharp glare at the intruder, then widened his eyes in shock as he recognized the person.

“You…!”

It was the same woman he had clashed swords with just yesterday, each trying desperately to strike the other down.

As always when facing her, Hyperion drew his sword without a second thought. The woman, visibly flustered at first, quickly regained her composure and reached for her hilt.

“Serpina!”

Just then, Adonis darted past him and ran out. Startled by the unexpected move, Hyperion failed to grab him in time and shouted after him.

“Come back, Adonis! She’s dangerous!”

“Serpina isn’t a dangerous person!”

Adonis shouted at the top of his lungs. Hyperion’s face twisted in disbelief as he saw his brother talking back to him for the first time in his life.

Adonis looked at him, bit his lip, then closed and reopened his eyes. His black pupils shone with clarity as he met his gaze.

“She’s the one who gave me this place, Brother.”

“…What?”

Hyperion’s jaw dropped. He looked completely unable to believe what he was hearing. Facing him calmly, Adonis continued.

“She’s my benefactor. So please, put your sword away.”

Hyperion stared at him, still in disbelief. His gaze turned sharp, as if trying to read the truth in his eyes. But Adonis held firm, enduring his piercing stare without flinching.

In the end, unable to detect even a trace of a lie from him, Hyperion slowly lowered his sword.

However, that did not mean his hostility toward Serpina disappeared. He turned his still razor-sharp gaze on her and interrogated her coldly.

“What exactly is your angle?”

“My angle?”

“I asked what your motive is for approaching my brother.”

“Hah.”

Serpina let out a dry, incredulous laugh, and Hyperion’s brows twitched in irritation.

But Serpina, indifferent to whether he was offended or not, replied with biting sarcasm.

“The feeling of being tricked is mutual. If I’d known he was your blood, I would’ve just left him to die.”

“What did you just say?”

“Please, both of you—don’t fight. For my sake, at least!”

Adonis cried out, terrified. His voice trembled so much it cracked at the end, and Hyperion had no choice but to withdraw the killing intent he’d been directing at Serpina.

As he backed down, the bloodthirst Serpina had been exuding also faded away. However, she still turned her back on him, as if looking at him was unbearable.

“I’m leaving for today.”

“I’m sorry, Serpina.”

“Forget it. We’ll talk next time.”

Brushing aside Adonis’s apology, Serpina turned coldly and disappeared into the wind.

Adonis stared for a moment at the spot where she had stood, then turned to Hyperion and cautiously approached.

“Um, Brother… I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. But… I just couldn’t bring myself to say it.”

Of course, he wouldn’t have been able to say it. If Hyperion had known, he never would have accepted it.

But looking at Adonis, who was nervously glancing up at him, he found he couldn’t bring himself to scold him either.

Hyperion roughly ruffled his own hair, then finally spoke.

“Let me ask just one thing. You do know who that woman is, right?”

“Of course. She’s the queen of the Tribe of Darkness.”

That he continued associating with Serpina even after knowing this… meant there was no way to stop him.

Hyperion let out a sigh deep enough to make the ground sink beneath him, instead of saying another word.

As his stern demeanor softened a little, Adonis, still watching him carefully, quickly began to offer excuses.

“I’m really sorry for making you worry, Brother. But I’m okay. Serpina’s really kind and caring—to me, at least. She looks after me so well. And she promised not to tell the Tribe of Darkness about me, so you really don’t have to worry.”

Then Adonis began listing all the ways Serpina treated him well. Hyperion watched him in silence as he tried so hard to ease his heart.

Then suddenly, he asked,

“How often… does that woman come here?”