Magic was said to be a power granted only to humans, and the unique magic possessed by nobles was seen as proof that they had been chosen by the gods. As a result, those who possessed unique magic secured their positions. Commoners, unable to use such magic, remained powerless before them.

Magic requires mana, and nobles generally had more of it. Whether it was due to their unique magic or simply innate, commoners had far less mana than they did.

Magic was a privilege reserved for humans. For this reason, other creatures – apart from magical beasts and animals – had neither magic nor mana.

But then, for the first time, people without mana began to appear. In the past, there were no tools to measure mana or magical artefacts imbued with unique magic, so they had no way of knowing that these people lacked mana.

They had lived among the humans as part of the group, but the moment their nature was discovered, they were cast out. They were given the name “Randall”, which means “those who do not exist”.

Seeing that they spoke human language and had the characteristics of magical beasts, it was natural for the humans to think the worst. Every time the Randalls screamed and insisted that they were human, people shuddered in horror.

Monsters in human skin – that was how the Randalls appeared to them.

Neither beast nor man, the only way for the Randalls to fit back into human society was to accept the status of slaves, even if they were treated as less than cattle.

For Ethan, this was a path he could never understand.

For the safety of their descendants, they should have chosen to give up their humanity altogether.

Did they really believe that if they gave up their lives as slaves, their descendants would one day be treated as human?

Ethan despised his ancestors.

Although Randalls were powerless against magic, they were physically stronger and more robust than ordinary humans. And what were such bodies used for?

In war, they were used as flesh shields; in the hunt for magical beasts, as bait. No matter how much stronger or tougher they were than ordinary humans, they were still slaves.

Even when Randals died or lost limbs, no one cared. On the contrary, people managed to find something useful even in slaves without mana.

In order to increase the number of meat shields and bait, they gathered Randalls and forced them to breed like animals, treating the children born of them in the same way.

Yes, it was breeding.

What else could it be but breeding, forcing females to mate with crippled males who had lost their limbs?

Ethan was born that way. Born and raised in a filthy birthing place, mixed with rat droppings and all manner of filth, thinking that was all there was to the world.

The Randalls lived their entire lives as slaves – born as slaves, raised as slaves, and died as slaves. Chained in iron shackles, whipped, never knowing an ounce of freedom.

Although slavery is illegal in some countries, there have always been exceptions when it came to the Randals.

The whole world refused to see Randals as fellow humans – even though they had the same red blood running through their veins, even though they felt the same emotions, even though they felt pain no differently.

Because they were born without magic.

That was why the Randals could never escape slavery.

That didn’t mean they were treated like human beings by other slaves. Even among the slaves, there was a clear distinction between human slaves and Randall slaves.

Randals were treated like cattle, even by human slaves. No, they were far inferior to cattle, which at least were fed on time and died usefully as meat.

“…”

It was ridiculous, really. The first to treat a Randall as a human were the Ancient Humans – beings who were hardly human themselves.

Ethan scoffed at this absurd reality.

“Ethan?”

A tilted head. Above it, round eyes rolled to stare up at Ethan.

As he gripped the slender neck, the clear eyes filled with quiet confusion.

It was a fragile neck that would break with just a little more force.

Thump, thump – the slow, steady beat of a heart, unwavering.

The small, whining voice, unaware of what was happening, carried a hint of frustration, as if annoyed at its own helplessness.

Ethan’s lips curled into a bitter grin.

They had no idea how filthy they were, how much dirt clung to their bodies from living at the bottom of the cave.

“Ethan, hold me.”

That phrase, uttered like a habit gone wrong – did they even know what it meant in the real world?

Even as a sense of irritation stirred within him, he couldn’t help but find it absurd how she willingly folded herself into the arms that were reaching out in spite of him.

As he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer, her body settled into his with practiced ease, yet it felt cold to the touch.

Although she had the ability to heal, she didn’t seem to be very good at regulating her body temperature – she often got cold like this.

Before they knew it, the raindrops that had been falling lightly had become heavy, and in an instant they were pouring down noisily.

At the sound of thunder and lightning, If turned her head.

“What’s so fascinating about just watching the rain?”

Ethan grumbled, but If kept her gaze fixed outside the cave, her lips parted slightly.

“It doesn’t rain there.”

“Ah… right. A fake sky.”

The dome-shaped sky looked real, but it was nothing more than a moving image.

Of course it would never rain in such a place.

But when Ethan asked, If shook her head.

“It can rain – they just don’t because there’s no need for it.”

“Huh?”

“It’s easy to make clouds. But there’s no reason to. It would just make people cold and wet for no reason. The ground would get wet too.”

Deciding whether it rains or not based on need alone – how could that make sense?

And controlling the weather at will – did that make sense at all?

“…But just watching it is nice.”

She curled up and wrapped her arms around Ethan’s waist.

She liked watching the rain, but she didn’t like feeling cold.

Only then did Ethan notice the wind ruffling her hair.

The weather had already been cold and now, as the rain poured down, a cold wind blew.

Ethan pulled Grip’s fur cloak over her warm body.

Normally he wouldn’t feel cold from a mere breeze like this, but with the woman in his arms shivering, there was no way around it.

Nestled inside his cloak, with only her face peeking out, If settled down quickly.

It was hard to believe that only moments before she had been shivering like a wet puppy.

Underneath the fur, Ethan ran his hand gently over her soft skin.

His hands were covered in thick calluses, worn hard enough to erase any trace of fingerprints.

Whenever those rough hands brushed her delicate, snow-white skin, a flush of red blossomed where he touched it.

Warmth slowly returned to her once cold body.

Ethan buried his head in her neck.

As he pressed his head to one side, If’s head tilted slightly to the opposite side.

She didn’t even react, as if it wasn’t uncomfortable at all.

Patter, patter.

The heavy rain pounded against the ground, loud as it cut into the earth.

If was too busy watching the outside world to care what Ethan was doing behind her.

“…”

Ethan’s brow furrowed at the sight.

All his life he had wished that others would simply ignore him – but now that someone was actually doing so, it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Driven by a sudden impulse of mischief, Ethan bit lightly at the back of If’s neck, causing her body to freeze.

“I… I’m not food, you know.”

She murmured, unable to hide her nervous voice.

Ethan couldn’t hold back the small chuckle that slipped out.

“For something that isn’t food, you taste pretty good.”

He teased, running his tongue playfully down her neck.

Slowly, If’s wide eyes rolled to look at him, her expression trying to look serious.

Seeing that, Ethan fought back another burst of laughter that threatened to escape.

“It shouldn’t taste good…”

If muttered softly as she once again listed the components that made up her body.

No matter how she thought about it, there was nothing in her that should appeal to human taste buds.

“Maybe I just have a different taste.”

How long had it been since Ethan had made a joke like that?

He smiled mischievously and stuck out his tongue before running it over the red bite mark he had left.

“For someone with a hard body, you still bruise like that.”

His hands might be rough, but for her skin to redden like that meant he had left a mark.

Her skin was far too delicate to be made of the same structure as the arm that had withstood Grips’ venom.

“If it’s too hard, you won’t really feel it.”

Most of If’s explanations were always like that – vague and unkindly brief, leaving more questions than answers.

Still, Ethan was someone who asked her a lot of questions, though not as many as she left unsaid.

“Like what?”

“When you’re warm.”

At her sudden, direct answer, Ethan’s body stiffened.

“…”

“Even if I bleed a little, it doesn’t hurt and I heal quickly.”

Bleeding and hurting was even better.

“…”

“But more than that, I like it better when you touch me.”

If she couldn’t touch him, what was the point?

It should be nothing more than a way to keep warm.

No other intention behind it.

Just because she was cold – just to feel the heat of a stove more clearly.

Nothing more than that.

‘Damn.’

Veins bulged along Ethan’s forearm as he wrapped it around If’s body.

He had to make a conscious effort not to crush her small frame.

“Ethan.”

This was worse – far worse – than any devil’s temptation.

“There’s something strange down there.”

Ethan quickly grabbed the small hand that wriggled under the cloak.

“It’s… moving…”

Looking at it, Ethan let out a long sigh.

“You’re really cruel. Worse than a devil.”

She had no feelings for him, knew nothing – yet every word she said cut deep into Ethan’s chest.

“No, I’m not.”

If pouted as she denied it, but Ethan let her body slide to the floor.

Her long hair spilled untidily over the fur lying beneath her.

Looking down at her, Ethan let out a hollow laugh and murmured,

“No, you really are cruel.”