“We have to think about those who’ll be cleaning this up, too.”

Verdian chuckled as he spoke, but his words lacked sincerity. He wasn’t entirely sane, either. Moments steeped in this kind of madness brought him a twisted sense of joy. Blood spread like crimson ink between the legs of the twitching hunk of meat, as if it were a salted eel thrashing on a chopping board.

“Sorry.”

In response to Verdian’s complaint, Lian offered a half-hearted apology. Verdian’s men waited silently behind them, expressionless.

Lian stood up and checked that the man had stopped breathing. He inhaled deeply, letting the blood-scented air fill his lungs. For a moment, Hailla’s clear, innocent face flashed through his mind. At the same time, he could hear his father’s cursed, venomous voice echoing in his ears, calling him a monster. It was probably just a delusion, but part of him wondered if it might be true.

With a crooked smile, Lian stepped out of the cave, his body soaked in blood, to wash. Before the night of slaughter was over, he would most likely be sitting at Hailla’s bedside, as he always did.

—

Lian grasped the wooden door of the dilapidated house and slowly pushed it open. The poorly oiled door creaked strangely as it opened. Fortunately, the sisters who lived there were heavy sleepers, so he didn’t have to worry about waking them. After changing his clothes in his room, Lian made his way to Hailla. Opening the door without asking permission seemed to be a familiar habit of his.

The woman was sound asleep. As always, she had pulled the blanket up and was sleeping with her right cheek nestled into the pillow — a sleeping posture that had become her routine. Her soft cheek was pressed against the smooth fabric, her lips puckering slightly in an almost painfully endearing way.

Even under the faint moonlight, the part of her face that was visible seemed to glow. Below that, the gentle curve of her body outlined above the blanket caught his gaze. The memory of her rounded br*ast, which he had seen earlier in the day, came unbidden to his mind.

Lian slowly brushed her forehead, then gently touched the corner of her eye. With her shimmering blonde hair, Hailla looked as though she were floating on sunlit sand, reflecting the light like something ethereal. Savouring the sensation of the strands gliding between his fingers, he brought a handful of her hair to his lips and kissed it.

“…Ha…”

His p*nis was rising sharply. Rian was the kind of man who could imagine Hailla panting and wriggling around. He knelt under the bed and pulled down his trousers. His *rect p*nis was already leaking a clear liquid.

As he often did, Rian planned to m*sturbate while looking at Hailla’s innocent face. Suddenly, he found a rough piece of cloth sticking out of his trousers. It was the handkerchief she had given him earlier that day. He held it up to his nose and could smell the clean scent of her arms. He felt his p*nis growing harder and harder in his hand.

“Ugh…”

Lian wrapped the cloth around her lower body. She had the illusion that Hailla was caressing her with her tiny hands. Goosebumps appeared on his cheeks and the skin under his eyes turned red. He slowly moved his hand up and down, flicking the tip of his p*nis with his thumb.

It would have been nice if Hailla had spread her legs and touched herself, but that was still a long way off. A moan escaped Lian’s throat. No matter how long he stroked and squeezed the sh*ft of his p*nis, he couldn’t easily reach climax. He buried his face in Hailla’s bed and shook his head desperately. He needed more of her scent.

“Ah, Hailla…….”

“Ugh.”

At that moment, Hailla stirred. Lian quickly leaned closer to the bed, subtly shielding his lower body with one hand. Her thick lashes fluttered open to reveal her clear, golden eyes. She didn’t seem particularly surprised to see him sitting by her bedside, watching her. After all, Lian’s room was always draughty and, on colder nights, he often slept in Hailla’s room, having spread out a blanket there.

“Where does it hurt?”

Her voice was hazy from deep sleep. Hailla looked at Lian’s flushed face and asked if she had a fever. Her face, somewhere between dream and reality, was lovely as she mumbled in reply.

“No, it’s just cold. I’m going to sleep here tonight.”

“Yeah….”

She smiled softly and closed her eyes again. Lian slowly moved his right hand to stroke his *rect p*nis. The damp handkerchief, soaked in the clear fluid that had leaked from it, now acted as a lubricant, making movement easier. A wet, rhythmic sound gradually filled the room.

Hailla opened her eyes once more and met his gaze. In that instant, a sharp sensation shot up his spine.

“Ah… Hailla.”

“Hm?”

“I can’t use the handkerchief anymore.”

Lian grinned slightly as he squeezed the handkerchief, which was soaked in s*men. The milky fluid dripped slowly onto the wooden floor, its fishy scent beginning to rise. The innocent woman, unaware of anything, blinked lazily and mumbled.

“It’s okay.”

Then she drifted back to sleep. Lian let out a languid smile and buried his face in the bedsheet again.

“Hailla…”

The night of restraint felt unbearably long.

—

“They said the apples were really good today, so I bought some. Super sweet, right?”

Hailla chatted to Rethe as she stuck a fork into some neatly sliced apple and held it out to her. Looking bored, Rethe took a few bites and gave a half-hearted nod.

Apart from grocery shopping, her attentive younger sister had stayed by her side for the past few days, which seemed to improve her mood. Normally, she would have told her to be quiet because she was noisy, but today she simply listened.

“I also heard some huge news. Apparently, the rumour’s spread all over the capital. It’s about a man named Count Feldon…”

“If it’s about the man who declared he’d wield the God’s Sword, I already know.”

Hailla clamped her mouth shut. Her sister blinked in surprise, as if to say, ‘How do you know that?’

Rethe clicked her tongue and nodded towards the newspaper on the bedside table.

“It was printed in huge letters already.”

“Ah! I see.”

Since Rethe had to stay at home all the time, they always kept a copy of the daily newspaper. It seemed she’d been reading it regularly. Rethe looked at the paper and said coldly.

“Foolish man. He’s so full of himself that he’s lost his mind.”

“Hmm … but maybe it’s just because he really loves her.”

Count Feldon, the man currently dominating all the capital’s gossip, publicly declared at the temple that he would wield the God’s Sword after Riahe refused his persistent courtship. This shocking statement spread like wildfire.

The ‘God’s Sword’, a divine relic enshrined within the Senir Temple, is said to have been crafted by the gods themselves. Its blade gleams with an ethereal blend of black and white, the light constantly wavering as though it were alive. Legend has it that it is the only one of its kind in existence. When driven into the wielder’s heart, the sword can draw out deep emotions towards another person and transform them into a jewel. This jewel is considered one of the rare, undeniable proofs of the gods’ presence in the world.

“He said he was going to offer the jewel to the woman, didn’t he? He won’t come to his senses unless he dies in the process.”

Rethe twisted her dry hair and sneered. Hailla thought her sister’s words were a bit harsh, but she couldn’t say they were entirely wrong, so she remained silent.

The gods were all-powerful but not merciful. They did not forgive mortals who used divine relics without permission. Everyone in the Talon Empire knew that.

If someone succeeded in using the God’s Sword, they could erase a specific emotion. However, they would be cursed in exchange. Once a feeling for someone had been removed, it would vanish forever — not only from the person, but from the wielder’s heart entirely. That was the curse: the permanent loss of that emotion.

Nevertheless, people consumed by vengeance would sometimes declare their intent to use the sword, desperate to prove their feelings.

“They probably did it thinking they wouldn’t die.”

“Hmm.”

But there was a reason why nobles hesitated to use it. The real danger came if they failed. If the emotion they claimed to have wasn’t genuine, the sword wouldn’t work — it would simply pierce their heart and kill them instantly.

If no jewel emerged from the wound, it meant death. This is why the ritual involving the God’s Sword always attracted a great deal of attention across the empire.

“Putting your life on the line to prove your love… how childish.”

Rethe lowered her gaze drowsily, then glanced at Hailla as she offered her another slice of apple on a fork. In her sister’s clear eyes, there wasn’t even a hint of an ulterior motive.

“What about you?”

“Huh?”

“Have you ever wanted to try it?”

“Try what?”

“The sword kept in the Senir Temple?”

Hailla tilted her head. Then, realising that her sister had actually asked her a question, she took a deep breath. Touched by the gesture, she exhaled with a loud puff.

“Hmm, no. Not really.”

“Why?”

“Huh?”

“Never mind.”

Rethe shifted her gaze sideways and chewed on a piece of apple. Hailla tilted her head again but started peeling another apple.

“Someone came by earlier today.”

She said this as if she had just remembered. Hailla flinched, causing the large apple in her hand to slip and fall. This reaction made Rethe’s brow twitch slightly. She knew very well that her sister wasn’t good at hiding her nerves.

“What is it?”

“Um… it’s nothing, really.”

“A person disappeared from the village, and the family is looking for him.”

A man’s voice interrupted them — it was Lian. He entered the room and stood by the door.

“Sorry. You were gone so long…”

He thought something might have happened, his eyes softening as he looked at Hailla, who now looked like a startled rabbit caught in the open. She wouldn’t normally last more than thirty minutes in Rethe’s room before being kicked out, so seeing her stay in there for over an hour was enough to make him worry. After all, he’d witnessed Rethe’s temper for years.

“Ah, yeah. I was just talking with my sister.”

“Tch.”

Still… this is awkward. Hailla glanced nervously between Rethe and Lian, unsure of what to do. Rethe narrowed her eyes and shot Lian a sharp glare.

“You can see I’m fine. So stop hovering and go away.”