In truth, Melly had never truly fallen asleep.

From the very beginning, the moment she was handed a glass of water and ordered to drink it, suspicion crept in. Their tone was too forceful, something was off.

Still, she pretended to comply.

She sipped slowly, letting the liquid touch her tongue and throat but never swallowing it. Using her ability, she redirected the fluid into her mouth’s cavity and held it there. Then, with a blank stare and sluggish movements, she feigned drowsiness… and eventually, sleep.

Her two captors talked for quite some time before finally falling asleep in a separate room. When one of them carried her small body into another chamber, Melly remained motionless. Her breathing was calm, eyes shut, as though truly unconscious.

The moment she was laid on the bed, she waited—silent and still. As soon as the door closed behind him, she spat the liquid into the side of the bed and covered it with a pillow.

Then, she resumed pretending to sleep.

Waiting.

Silence. No footsteps. No voices.

Once they were asleep, she would move. She would find her brother and save him.

That had been her plan all along.

As stillness blanketed the room, Melly slowly opened her eyes. She rose carefully and walked to the door. Her fingers wrapped around the knob, twisting it gently—locked.

She took a long, steady breath.

Focus.

She guided the mana within her toward her hand. Instantly, she felt the subtle currents under her skin—wind swirling softly, lightning buzzing faintly, water flowing with quiet grace. Three affinities she could barely control, but enough… for a single purpose.

A cut.

She aimed her open palm at the narrow slit between door and frame.

Sfft.

A thin arc of wind sliced through the silence, severing the tiny latch on the other side.

Click.

The lock gave way.

Melly pushed the door gently, just enough to slip through. The hallway was dark, lit only by moonlight slipping through the high window panes. But Melly’s steps were sure, she knew exactly where to go.

The underground storage room.

She had overheard them talking, assuming she had been asleep. That was where her brother had been tied up… and where she herself had been kept before being taken upstairs. Each creaking step down the wooden stairs sent her heart racing. She held her breath, ears alert to any sound.

But… nothing.

Once she reached the door, she pushed it open.

Dark. Quiet. Cold.

She stepped in, eyes adjusting to the dimness. Her gaze swept across the space, then froze.

Her brother… was gone.

Only a toppled chair remained, ropes strewn across the floor like dead snakes. Torn scraps of cloth lay scattered. And on the ground… blood. Fresh. Not yet dried.

Melly swallowed hard. Her fists clenched.

“Brother…?” she whispered, voice barely audible.

No response.

With her heart pounding, she turned away and climbed back upstairs. Each step heavier than the last, as though something invisible pressed down on her. Her breaths shallow, cautious. The hallway above was steeped in silence, the faint glow of moonlight cutting through from a high window at the end.

But as she passed the room to her right, she heard it.

A strange sound—wet and heavy. Like flesh being struck by something blunt. Repeatedly.

She stopped.

The door was ajar. From the crack, the sound grew clearer—crack, crunch, crack—a rhythm both brutal and relentless. A sound no child should ever hear.

Curiosity… and a creeping fear of what she might find pushed her forward. Slowly, she leaned closer. Peered through the opening.

And that was when her world collapsed.

In the shadows of the room, someone was kneeling on the floor, hunched over a broken body. The figure was stabbing a dagger again and again into the face of a man Melly recognized—one of her captors. The stabs were no longer meant to kill. They were meant to unleash something far darker than rage.

The victim’s face was no longer human. Smashed. Torn apart. His flesh mangled like clay crushed beneath a boot. His limbs had been severed. Blood soaked his corpse, discarded like a ruined doll in the corner.

But what truly stole Melly’s breath… was the attacker.

The figure doing the stabbing…

Covered in blood from head to toe. Face ravaged, skin torn, hair matted with sweat and gore. The body was riddled with bruises and wounds, and the eyes—those eyes—burned like flames in the dark. Wild. Tormented.

Melly froze. Her breath hitched.

Her body rejected what it saw.

Her knees gave out. Her breathing grew frantic. As she staggered back, her foot caught on the door. She fell and her elbow knocked the wood, scraping softly.

But it was enough.

The figure, previously unaware of any presence, halted.

The dagger stopped midair.

Their shoulders tensed.

Then slowly… ever so slowly… they turned.

Their eyes met.

And time stopped.

In that instant, the hallway no longer felt cold. The world shrank. All sound disappeared. Only that stare remained, eyes that had once been warm now looked unfamiliar. Eyes ignited by pain, vengeance, and things a child should never have to see.

As they stared, something shifted in the bloodstained figure’s expression.

A face nearly unrecognizable, suddenly filled with fear.

Those sharp, savage eyes softened with terror. Not from danger. Not from guilt. But from being seen. From being seen… by her.

And in that moment, Melly knew.

Even with the ruined face, the blood, the unfamiliar presence—she knew.

It was her brother.

It was Riven.

She could feel it—the sorrow etched across that face, the pain that spilled quietly beneath the violence. She could sense his fear… not of what he’d done, but because she had seen it.

And in Riven, everything collapsed.

All the rage, the hatred, the need for vengeance… vanished in a single breath.

When he saw Melly—her tiny frame trembling, eyes glistening with tears—everything else faded. The blood. The wounds. None of it mattered.

The dagger slipped from his hand.

Clang.

Riven parted his lips to say her name—Melly…—but the words caught in his throat. His tongue stiffened. His breath faltered. He could only stare at that frightened little face with a shattered heart.

He knew what he looked like now, monstrous.

Even he no longer knew if he was still human.

He had become something else. A creature willing to do anything, in order to survive. He had crossed too many lines. Spent too long surrounded by corpses.

But Melly… Melly couldn’t see him like this.

Melly couldn’t become like him.

She was the only reason he was still alive. The last light left in his bleak and hopeless world. If even she started to fear him…

Then he would rather die.

Riven lowered his gaze. His shoulders trembled. His eyes dropped to the blood pooling beneath his feet, evidence of the horror he had unleashed. He couldn’t face her. Couldn’t say a word. Only silence remained.

But—

Without warning, Melly ran.

Her small feet crossed the threshold, and then—

Wham!

Her tiny body collided with Riven in a tight embrace. So fierce, it nearly knocked him off balance. Her arms wrapped around his waist, her face buried against his battered chest.

And there, the sobbing began.

“Riven… Riven… Riven…!” Melly’s voice cracked, trembling, choking on emotion as she called his name again and again like a lifeline. “Thank you… thank you for being alive… I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”

Her body trembled. “I’m sorry that… because of me, you had to become this… had to suffer like this… had to do all of this…”

Riven stood frozen. Disbelieving. As though his body had forgotten how to move.

Then slowly, his bloodstained hands rose.

And returned the embrace.

Gently. Hesitantly. Shaking.

Until finally, Riven collapsed—silently.

His shoulders shook. Tears spilled from reddened eyes, though no sound escaped him. A voiceless cry. A wound finally breaking open.

In that room stained with blood, only one thing remained—

Two siblings, holding each other in silence.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep