Chapter 132: The Sister and the Stranger
The sun was warm on Leo’s face.
The sunlight was golden and thick and heavy in a way that made you want to stretch out like a lazy cat and never move again.
He was lying on soft grass, the kind that grew in the Celestial estate’s private gardens.
The air slled like blooming flowers and fresh bread from the kitchen, and sowhere in the distance, he could hear Mia’s laughter mixed with the sound of running water from the fountain that his father had installed years ago as an anniversary gift.
This is nice, he thought, and the thought ca easily, without any of the weight or darkness that usually accompanied his monts of peace.
He yawned and rolled onto his back, staring up at a sky so blue it almost hurt to look at. There were no clouds, no monsters, no war, no flas eating at his insides. Just endless, peaceful blue stretching from one horizon to the other.
"Leo!"
Mia’s voice cut through the quiet, high and bright and full of the kind of energy that only a seven-year-old could possess.
Leo turned his head and saw her running toward him across the grass, her black hair streaming behind her like a banner, a half-eaten pastry clutched in each small hand. Her face was flushed from running, and her ocean-blue eyes were wide with excitent, and she looked so full of life that Leo felt sothing warm spread through his chest.
"You slept too long! Mama said breakfast is almost over!" she said.
He sat up slowly, a lazy grin spreading across his face. "Then why do you have two pastries?"
"One is for ," Mia said, holding up the pastry in her left hand. Then she held up the one in her right. "The other is also for ."
"Then why are you telling
about breakfast?"
She stuck her tongue out at him, her expression caught sowhere between playful and defiant. "Because I wanted to see your jealous face."
Leo reached out and ruffled her hair, ssing up the ssy ponytail even more than it already was. She shrieked and tried to run, but he was faster, catching her around the waist and pulling her down onto the grass beside him.
She landed with an "oof" and imdiately tried to wiggle free, but he held on, laughing at her attempts to escape.
"I am not jealous," Leo said, his voice light and teasing. "I am rely disappointed in your lack of sharing."
"You have a whole plate inside!" Mia protested, still trying to squirm out of his grip.
"But yours tastes better."
She narrowed her eyes at him, her lips pressing into a thin line. "You always say that."
"Because it’s always true."
Mia huffed, a dramatic sound that was entirely too serious for her age, but she broke off a piece of pastry and handed it to him anyway. "...Fine," she said, her voice grudging. "But only because you’re my big brother."
Leo took the piece of pastry and popped it into his mouth, chewing slowly and deliberately while maintaining eye contact with her. "That’s what I thought," he said once he had swallowed.
Mia groaned and flopped onto her back on the grass, her small arms spread out like she was making a snow angel. "You’re so annoying!"
"And yet you love ."
"Unfortunately."
Leo laughed and lay back down beside her, staring up at the sky.
The sun was warm on his face, and the grass was soft beneath him, and for a mont, everything felt exactly the way it should be. Mia was chattering about sothing—a butterfly she had seen, a dream she had last night, sothing about Sir Hops-a-Lot.
But Leo wasn’t really listening. He was just... existing. Just enjoying the simple act of breathing without having to fight for every inhale.
After a while, Mia scrambled to her feet and ran off toward the house, probably in search of more pastries or maybe the butterfly she had been chasing earlier. Her laughter trailed behind her, bright and carefree, and Leo watched her go until she disappeared through the garden door.
Then he lay back down and closed his eyes.
The sun was warm on his face. The birds were singing. The fountain was murmuring in the distance. And Leo felt sothing he hadn’t felt in a long ti—sothing soft and fragile and almost forgotten.
He felt peace.
He didn’t know how long he lay there, drifting in and out of that warm, golden haze.
Ti didn’t seem to matter in this place, this dream of sunlight and grass and the sound of his sister’s laughter. There was just the sun and the grass and the quiet, steady rhythm of his own breathing. He shifted his position, turning onto his side and pillowing his head on his arm.
The grass tickled his cheek, and the scent of flowers filled his nostrils, and he felt himself sinking deeper into that warm, comfortable haze.
....And then a chill ran down his spine.
I’m definitely forgetting sothing, he thought lazily. Probably sothing important. Like... my howork? No, I’m a noble. My destiny? No, that’s too heavy. Whatever it is, it can wait.
But the feeling didn’t go. Sothing was wrong.
Leo’s eyes snapped open.
He was in his room.
The dream shattered like glass, the warm sunlight and the soft grass and the sound of Mia’s laughter dissolving into nothing.
He was lying in his bed, the sheets tangled around his legs, the morning light filtering through the curtains and casting pale stripes across the floor. The air slled like old wood and dust and the faint scent of lavender from the oil diffuser on his nightstand.
....And there was a blade inches from his face.
It was a real blade, not so practice sword or a training dummy, but real steel gleaming in the pale morning light, the edge so sharp that he could see his own reflection in it, his ocean-blue eyes staring back at him, wide and confused and very, very awake.
The tip was hovering just above his nose, close enough that he could feel the cold radiating off the tal. Leo did not move. He just stared at the blade and waited for his brain to catch up with what his eyes were seeing.
A voice ca from sowhere above him, light and amused and dripping with theatrical disappointnt. "Tsk. Bastard still dodges like a cockroach at the last second."
Leo’s body moved before his brain could catch up.
Years of training and instinct took over, and he rolled to the side with a speed that surprised even him, the sheets tangling around his legs as he threw himself off the bed.
The mattress creaked beneath him, and he hit the floor hard, his shoulder slamming against the cold stone, but he didn’t stop moving. He rolled again, coming up in a crouch on the other side of the bed, his hand reaching for a sword that wasn’t there because Tempest was in his void pocket.
His heart was pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat.
Leo blinked, his vision finally clearing. Standing over his bed, one hand casually resting on the hilt of a sword embedded in his pillow, was a girl who looked like she’d been carved out of midnight.
She was tall, with a lean and wiry build that moved like a predator even when she was standing still. Her hair was black, long and straight and dark as ink, falling past her shoulders in a curtain that seed to absorb the light rather than reflect it.
Her eyes were ocean-blue, the sa shade of blue as his, and they were gleaming with amusent, bright and sharp and full of mischief that had not faded in the years she had been away.
She was wearing dark pants and a fitted jacket, the kind of clothes ant for riding and not for lounging, and a sword hung at her hip in a scabbard that had been worn smooth from years of use. Her face was slim and elegant, but her expression was anything but elegant.
Her lips curved into a smile that showed teeth.
"Good morning, little brother," Sylvia von Celestial said, twirling the blade in her hand like it weighed nothing at all. "You’ve gotten slow."
Leo’s hand went to his chest, pressing against his heart, which was slamming against his ribs so hard that he could feel it in his throat. His breath was coming in short gasps, and his mind was racing, trying to process the fact that his older sister had just tried to stab him in his sleep.
"What... what the fuck are you doing?" His voice ca out higher. "Are you trying to kill ?"
Sylvia looked down at the blade in her hand, then back at him, her expression perfectly calm. "Oh, of course I am very much trying to kill you," she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Especially after what you did." She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing as she studied him, "And now you’re trying to run away? How many tis are you going to run now?" Her gaze swept over him, taking in the loose shirt and the bare feet. "What’s wrong with your hair? First that stupid tattoo—wait, where did that tattoo go?"
She then shook her head. "Anyway. Did you dye your hair white to look more interesting while you fail at literally everything? And why are they so long?" She reached out and grabbed a strand of his hair, pulling it hard. "You look stupid. Like a weird albino ghost or sothing."
Leo swatted her hand away, hissing as the hair pulled free from her grip. "Oh, thank you very much. That’s exactly what every brother wants to hear from his beloved sister." He straightened his shirt and glared at her. "I love my life, so I would love it if you didn’t try to kill your most beautiful, innocent, kind, intelligent, and only handso divinely-faced brother."
Sylvia’s face twisted in disgust, her nose wrinkling like she had just slled sothing rotten. She spat on the grass, a quick and deliberate gesture that made Leo’s eye twitch. "Looks like in the trial you ended up hitting your head multiple tis," she said, pointing the blade at his face. "Because no one in their right mind would say sothing that delusional."
"What’s with that disgusting look?" Leo said, gesturing at her expression. "I am handso. I am objectively handso. You’re just jealous because I inherited the good genes and you got stuck with the leftovers."
[You are not wrong, Host,] Nova said, and Leo could hear the amusent dripping from the System’s voice like honey.
[Your facial symtry has improved significantly since the tamorphosis. The white hair also complents your complexion. Objectively speaking, you are now what the common people would call, and I quote — ’devastatingly attractive.’]
Leo’s eye twitched, and he thought back at Nova with a mixture of annoyance and resignation. Nova, do I look that stupid to you?
There was a pause, a long and deliberate pause.
[I am trying very hard to control my laughter,]Nova said finally, and Leo could hear the strain in the System’s voice, the desperate attempt to maintain composure.[Pfft! Please... please give
a mont. This is very difficult for .]
Damn you, you glitching bastard, Leo muttered under his breath.
Sylvia didn’t wait for him to finish his conversation with the voice in his head. She lunged, the blade aid directly at his throat with a speed that was frankly unnecessary for soone who was supposedly just trying to make a point.
Leo rolled again, the steel whistling past his ear so close that he felt the air move, and he scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping over the blanket in his haste.
"Oh fuck, she’s clearly intent on killing !" he shouted, backing away with his hands raised.
"Stop running, you slippery bastard!" Sylvia swung the blade at his head, and Leo ducked just in ti, feeling the wind of the strike ruffle his hair. "Today I will kill you!"
She swung again, and Leo jumped back, the blade slicing through the air where his chest had been a mont before. She swung again, and he dropped to the ground and rolled between her legs, coming up in a sprint toward the window. His bare feet slapped against the cold stone floor, and he could hear Sylvia’s boots pounding behind him, closing in fast.
He didn’t look back. He just ran.
The window was open, the morning light streaming through it, and Leo launched himself through the opening without hesitation.
For a mont, he was airborne, the wind rushing past his face, the ground falling away beneath him. Then he reached deep into his core, into the space affinity that pulsed in his veins like a second heartbeat, and he folded the distance between himself and the ground.
One mont he was falling. The next, his feet touched the grass of the garden below, soft and cool and blessedly solid. He stumbled slightly, caught his balance, and looked up at the window he had just jumped from.
Sylvia stood at the windowsill, her black hair wild in the wind, her eyes wide with surprise. The blade was still in her hand, and her expression was caught sowhere between fury and disbelief.
Leo grinned up at her, wide and unrepentant, and raised his hand to show her his middle finger. "Hehe," he said, loud enough for her to hear. "You missed!"
Sylvia’s eye twitched. Then her expression shifted, the surprise lting away into sothing cold and deadly. "You think a little trick like that will save you?" she called down to him. "You think you can run from , little brother?"
Without waiting for an answer, she leaped through the window.
Her body sailed through the air with a grace that should have been impossible, her hair streaming behind her like a banner, and the blade gleaming in the morning light. She landed on the grass a few feet away from him, her knees bending to absorb the impact, and she straightened slowly, her eyes never leaving his face.
"Nowhere to run now," she said, and she started walking toward him.
Leo’s grin faded. "Oh crap!" he said, and he turned and ran.
Sylvia chased.
She was faster and stronger than him, and she had a sword while he had nothing but the clothes on his back and his bare feet.
He ran across the garden, past the flower beds and the fountain, his feet slipping on the wet grass as he weaved between hedges and jumped over low walls. Behind him, Sylvia was gaining, her boots pounding against the earth with a rhythm that sounded like the drums of war, her blade glinting in the sunlight like a promise of violence.
"Stop running you crazy bastard!" she shouted from sowhere behind him.
"Like hell I will, you crazy bitch!" he shouted back without looking.
Leo reached the edge of the garden and realized, with a sinking feeling in his stomach, that he had made a terrible mistake.
The stone wall of the estate rose up in front of him, high and smooth and completely unclimbable, with no handholds and no gates and no convenient trees to help him escape. Behind him, Sylvia was closing in, her footsteps getting louder and closer with every passing second, and he could already imagine the look of triumph on her face when she finally caught him.
"Damn it!" he said, and he jumped.
His hands caught the top of the wall, his fingers scraping against the rough stone, and he pulled himself up. He swung his legs over the edge just as Sylvia’s blade slamd into the stone where his feet had been, and he dropped down on the other side, landing hard on the cobblestone path and stumbling forward as his bare feet protested the impact.
He didn’t stop to catch his breath. He continued running.
Sylvia appeared at the top of the wall a mont later, her eyes locked on him like a hawk spotting a mouse that had made the mistake of leaving its hole. She looked down at him, and her smile was sharp and cold and full of murderous intent.
"You can’t run forever, little brother!" she called down to him.
"Watch !" Leo shouted, and he sprinted down the path.
He ran through the estate like a man possessed, his bare feet slapping against the cold stone, his heart pounding in his chest, his lungs burning with every breath.
Servants jumped out of his way, their eyes wide, their trays flying, their voices raised in alarm. A gardener dove behind a bush, and a maid scread, and a cook stuck his head out of a window and shouted sothing that Leo didn’t catch because he was too busy running for his life.
"SORRY!" Leo shouted as he ran past them. "FAMILY DISPUTE! NOTHING TO SEE HERE! PLEASE RETURN TO YOUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED ACTIVITIES!"
[This is highly entertaining,] Nova said, and Leo could hear the smile in the System’s voice even if it didn’t have a face to smile with.
"Shut up and help !" Leo gasped, dodging around a corner.
[I am helping. I am providing moral support. You can do it, I believe in you!]
Bastard is still laughing.
Leo looked back over his shoulder and imdiately regretted it because Sylvia was still coming, her blade still in her hand, her expression still murderous. She was faster than him and it was not a fair fight, and Leo had never claid to be a fair fighter, but running was starting to feel like a losing strategy.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he muttered, pushing himself harder.
He rounded another corner and saw the main garden ahead, the one where his mother tended her precious roses and his father sat on his favorite bench and Mia chased butterflies in the afternoon sun.
His family was there, his mother standing by the rose bushes with a pair of pruning shears in her hand, his father sitting on the bench with a book that he clearly wasn’t reading, and Mia running in circles chasing a butterfly that seed to be taunting her.
Salvation.
Leo sprinted toward them, skidded to a stop behind his mother, and grabbed her shoulders, using her as a human shield. He peered over her arm at Sylvia, who was barreling toward them like a runaway train, and he felt a flash of hope.
"Mom!" Leo said, his voice high and desperate. "Mom, tell her to stop! She’s trying to kill !"
Isabella blinked, looking from Leo’s terrified face to Sylvia’s furious one, her expression caught sowhere between confusion and exasperation. "Sylvia, dear," she said, her voice calm and motherly, "what are you doing?"
"Stand aside, Mother," Sylvia said, her voice cold and flat. "Today I will kill this bastard."
"Sylvia—"
"I said stand aside."
Isabella did not stand aside. She crossed her arms over her chest and raised one perfect eyebrow. "You will not kill your brother in my garden," she said, her voice firm. "The roses have just blood, and I will not have them ruined by your sibling rivalry."
Sylvia’s eye twitched. "I don’t care about the roses, Mother."
"The roses took three years to bloom, Sylvia. Three years. Do you know how much work I put into those roses? Do you know how many tis I had to chase off the rabbits and the insects and that one very persistent squirrel that kept trying to dig up the bulbs?"
Sylvia’s grip tightened on her blade. "Mother—"
"No killing in the garden, Sylvia. That is final."
Leo stuck his tongue out from behind his mother’s shoulder, feeling a surge of childish glee. "Yeah," he said, his voice muffled by Isabella’s hair. "No killing in the garden. That’s final."
Sylvia’s eye twitched again, and Leo could see her calculating the odds of shoving their mother aside without causing a diplomatic incident. "You hide behind Mother like a coward?" she asked, her voice low and dangerous.
"I hide behind whoever is available," Leo said with a shrug. "It’s called survival. You should try it soti."
Mia stopped chasing her butterfly and ran over, her small face scrunched in confusion as she looked between her older siblings. Her hair was a ss, and there was a grass stain on her dress, and she had the expression of soone who had just been dragged into an argunt that she didn’t understand.
"Sis," Mia said, planting her hands on her hips, "you should stop. Big brother Leo didn’t do anything wrong."
Sylvia glanced down at her little sister, and for a mont, sothing soft flickered in her eyes. "Mia. Step aside."
"I said no." Mia’s voice was firm, her chin lifted. "You’re being an, and Mama said we’re not supposed to be an to family."
Sylvia’s jaw tightened. "That’s what I heard every ti," she muttered, more to herself than to anyone else. "Every single ti. ’Sylvia, stop.’ ’Sylvia, he’s your brother.’ ’Sylvia, not in the garden.’ ’Sylvia, put down the sword.’" She looked up, her eyes blazing with sothing that looked like years of accumulated frustration. "But not today. Today, I will kill him."
She took a step forward.
Isabella sighed and stepped aside. Mia also sighed and stepped aside. The servants, who had been watching from a safe distance, also stepped aside.
Leo stood alone in the middle of the garden, his mouth hanging open, his hands still raised in front of him. He looked at his mother. She shrugged. He looked at Mia. She shrugged. He looked at his father, who was still sitting on the bench with his book, and who had not looked up once during the entire exchange.
"Et tu?" Leo said, his voice hollow and incredulous. "Et tu, Mia?"
"You brought this on yourself," Isabella said, turning back to her roses with the calm indifference of a woman who had long since learned not to get involved in her children’s fights. "Maybe if you hadn’t been hiding in your uncle’s territory for months, she wouldn’t be so angry."
Leo turned to face Sylvia. She was smiling now, a dark and terrible grin that made his blood run cold. There was nothing kind or sisterly about that smile. It was the smile of a predator who had finally cornered its prey.
"Damn this crazy family," Leo whispered, and he ran.
Sylvia chased after him.
They ran through the garden, past the fountain and the rose bushes and the stone bench where his father was still reading his book. Leo jumped over a bench, and Sylvia cut around it. Leo ducked under a low-hanging branch, and Sylvia sliced through it with her blade, not even slowing down.
"Wait!" Sylvia shouted from behind him. "Stop!"
Leo did not stop. He kept running, his bare feet pounding against the grass, his lungs burning, his heart pounding.
"Wait! Stop!"
He looked back over his shoulder, and she was still coming, her blade still raised, her eyes still wild. "Stop chasing
and I’ll stop running!" he shouted.
Leo turned back around and focused on the path ahead, putting every ounce of his energy into putting as much distance between himself and his homicidal sister as possible. He was so focused on the path ahead that he didn’t see the figure step out from behind the hedge until it was too late.
He crashed into soone.
The impact knocked the wind out of his lungs, a sudden and violent expulsion of air that left him gasping. He felt soone’s arms wrap around him instinctively, and then they were both falling, tumbling across the grass in a tangle of limbs and fabric.
He landed hard on his back, the impact jarring his spine and making his vision blur, and sothing soft landed on top of him—soone soft, soone warm, soone who slled faintly of flowers and sothing else, sothing clean and cold like winter air.
He opened his eyes and two crimson eyes stared down at him.
They were beautiful, those eyes—deep and red, like the heart of a fla. They were also slightly confused and wide, and directly staring into his soul with an intensity that made his breath catch in his throat.
Leo blinked. The girl above him blinked.
"..."
"..."
They stared at each other for a mont and the world seed to fade away for a mont, the garden, the birds, the sound of his sister’s footsteps sowhere in the distance. There was only the girl with the crimson eyes and the black hair that fell around her face like a curtain, and the strange, unexpected warmth of her body pressed against his.
He felt sothing soft under his hand. Sothing warm. Sothing that was definitely not supposed to be there.
His gaze drifted down. His hand was on her chest.
"...Oh," he said.
His brain went into overdrive, a thousand thoughts crashing through his mind at once—shit shit shit shit shit—but before he could say anything or apologize or explain or do anything to salvage the situation, a foot slamd into his jaw.
"YOU DAMN PERVERT!"
Leo’s head snapped to the side, white light exploding behind his eyes. His body flew through the air, carried by the force of the kick, and he landed hard on the grass ten feet away.
He rolled twice, ca to a stop, and lay there staring up at the sky with his jaw throbbing and his vision swimming and his dignity lying in shambles sowhere between the rose bushes and the fountain.
"Fuck," he groaned, sitting up slowly. He touched his jaw and winced, feeling the tender flesh already beginning to swell. "That fucking hurt, you know!"
Sylvia was standing over the girl, helping her to her feet with a gentleness that seed completely at odds with the violence she had just inflicted on her brother. Her blade was sheathed now, but her eyes were still blazing, and her expression was pure, undiluted fury.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Sylvia shouted, pointing at him with a shaking finger. "Do you have a death wish that you’re now manhandling my friend, you perverted bastard?"
Leo clicked his tongue and stood up, brushing the grass and dirt from his clothes. "This wouldn’t have happened if a certain maniac hadn’t been chasing
like I stole sothing," he said, glaring at his sister.
He looked past Sylvia and stared at the girl.
She was standing slightly behind Sylvia now, her crimson eyes still fixed on him, her expression unreadable. Her dark hair—black as night—fell past her shoulders in soft waves that caught the sunlight and shimred with an almost blue tint.
Her skin was pale, almost luminous, like moonlight on fresh snow, and her face was delicate and sharp at the sa ti, with high cheekbones and a small mouth that was pressed into a thin line.
She was beautiful in a way that wasn’t loud or demanding. There was sothing ancient in those crimson eyes, sothing old and tired and terribly lonely, and Leo felt a strange pull toward her that he couldn’t explain.
Leo pointed at her. "Besides, it’s her fault too." Sylvia’s eyes widened in outrage, but he pushed on before she could interrupt. "I was looking behind
because soone was trying to kill , and she was standing right in front. Can’t she just step aside?"
Sylvia’s face turned red. "You ran into her!"
"She was in my way! She was standing in the wrong place at the wrong ti!"
"You have no sha!"
"I have plenty of sha! I just choose not to use it!"
The girl watched the exchange in silence, her crimson eyes moving from Sylvia to Leo and back again, her expression never changing. She didn’t speak in the sibling matter.
Sylvia took a deep breath, visibly forcing herself to calm down. She turned to the girl and placed a hand on her shoulder, her voice softening. "Are you okay, Seris?"
The girl, Seris, nodded once, a small and precise movent of her head. Her voice, when she spoke, was soft and low, barely above a whisper, but there was no hesitation in it. "...I am fine."
Leo repeated the na in his head.
Seris.
Sylvia gestured at Leo with a jerk of her head, her expression sour. "This stupid face here is my younger brother," she said, her voice dripping with disdain. "The one who was supposed to be dead but apparently decided to co back just to annoy ."
She crossed her arms over her chest. "His na is Leo. Leo von Celestial. The failure of the human domain."
Leo raised an eyebrow. "Nice introduction. Really feeling the love."
Sylvia ignored him.
She turned back to Seris, and her voice softened again in a way that Leo rarely heard. "Leo, this is Seris Lunaria," she said. "She’s my friend from the academy. She’ll be staying with us for a few days." A hint of pride crept into her voice.
"She’s also rank one of the first year and now I should say going to be rank one of second year." She paused, waiting for that to sink in. "And I’m the vice president of the student council, in case you were wondering. Which you should be. Because it’s impressive."
Leo nodded along, but his mind was elsewhere. He was looking at Seris and sothing was nagging at him, sothing familiar about her face, about those crimson eyes.
Seris Lunaria.
He knew that na. He knew her from the ga.
She was part of the main cast, or at least the supporting cast—a commoner orphan discovered by the Astra Union, sponsored by them, raised by them. They saw her talent and wanted to control her fate, wanted to mold her into their perfect weapon, and in almost every route of the ga, she died.
There was a very low chance of her getting a good ending, a happy ending, an ending where she lived or maybe not because the world is destroyed by the Abyss King.
There was also a sub-route where she beca a villain and the player had to kill her, and that route always left a bad taste in the mouth because you could see why she had turned and you could see the pain and the betrayal and the years of being treated like a tool rather than a person.
Her hatred for the Astra Union ran deep, even though they sponsored her and gave her everything she had. She knew how corrupt the world was. She had seen it with her own eyes, felt it in her own bones. And there was sothing else—sothing about a curse, her body breaking down.
Besides, she’s also the apostle of the—
Sylvia smacked the back of his head.
"Ow!" Leo rubbed his skull, glaring at his sister. "What the hell was that for?"
"Stop staring at her like a creep," Sylvia said, her eyes narrow. "Didn’t I tell you to stay away from her? Didn’t I explicitly say those words? ’Be nice to her, don’t be weird, stay away from her’—those were my exact instructions."
"You told
to be nice to her! Those are different things!"
"Not in your case."
Leo opened his mouth to argue, then closed it. He didn’t have the energy. His jaw hurt, his feet were sore, and his pride was still bleeding sowhere on the grass.
Seris Lunaria. He would have to keep an eye on her.
Sylvia was still glaring at him, her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes burning with that familiar mix of annoyance and suspicion.
She didn’t trust him around her friend, that much was obvious, and honestly, Leo couldn’t bla her. He had just crashed into the girl, grabbed her chest by accident, and then stared at her like she was a puzzle he was trying to solve.
If the roles were reversed, he would probably be suspicious too. But Sylvia didn’t need to know that he had recognized Seris from the ga.
"Oh, stop beating ," Leo said, rubbing his shoulder where Sylvia had smacked him. "I didn’t even do anything. I crashed into her by accident, I apologized, and I’m trying to be polite. What more do you want from ? A written apology delivered by a choir of angels?"
Sylvia’s eye twitched. "I want you to go away, far away. Preferably to another continent where you can’t embarrass
in front of my friends."
"I live here. This is my house too, in case you forgot."
"Unfortunately, I rember. A scum like you also lives here who is also an Empire notorious failure."
Leo opened his mouth to fire back another retort, but sothing stopped him. The words were there, on the tip of his tongue, sharp and sarcastic.
"You know what?" Leo said, his voice quieter now. "Go ahead. Say whatever you want to say. Get it out of your system."
Sylvia blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. "What?"
"All of it. The sa bullshit everyone else has been saying since I ca back. That I’m a failure. That I should have stayed dead. That I don’t deserve to be a Celestial. Whatever’s on your mind, just say it. I’m tired of pretending I don’t hear the whispers."
The garden went quiet.
Sylvia stared at him, her mouth opening and closing like she wanted to say sothing but couldn’t find the words. Seris watched from behind her, her crimson eyes fixed on Leo with that sa unreadable expression.
[Leo,] Nova said, his voice carefully neutral. [Stop. This isn’t—]
Shut up, Nova, Leo thought back, his ntal voice cold and sharp. I will stop here, but there’s a limit to everything. I always think it was stupid, why did the old Leo have to hear everything? If it was the old Leo, he wouldn’t care.
He would just listen and let the whole world point their fingers at him while he stood there and took it because that’s what he was used to.
But I’m not that Leo.
Nova was silent.
Leo looked at Sylvia, his eyes hard and cold in a way that made sothing flicker across her face, sothing that might have been recognition or fear or the first stirrings of guilt.
He spread his arms wide, a bitter smile twisting at his lips, and his voice ca out low and steady, each word falling like a stone into still water. "I don’t ask for anything from this world. I don’t expect anything. I don’t owe anyone anything. So stop acting like I do."
Sylvia’s mouth opened, but Leo cut her off before she could speak, his voice dropping even lower. "And don’t you dare call
a coward. The old , the old Leo, he wasn’t a coward. He was a kid. A kid who was eaten alive by this fucking world, chewed up and spit out by people who didn’t even know him."
A pause.
"You want to know what I think? I think you’re all hypocrites. Every single one of you. All those fucking strangers who pointed their fingers at a child and called him a failure. All those nobles who whispered behind their fans and laughed at a family’s pain. All those people who stood by and watched him drown and did nothing except throw stones."
His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his knuckles white, his nails digging into his palms hard enough to leave marks. "I was ten years old when they started. Ten. Do you understand that, Sylvia? Ten years old. What cri did I commit? What terrible sin did I perform to deserve any of it? I was born. That’s it. I was born into a family I never chose, with a core I never asked for, and the world decided that was enough to hate ."
Sylvia was quiet now, her lips pressed together, her arms hanging limp at her sides.
Leo continued, his voice rising slightly, cracking at the edges with the weight of years of silence finally breaking free. "I didn’t ask for a B-rank core. I didn’t ask to be born into the Celestial house. I didn’t ask for any of it. But the world gave it to
anyway, and then it punished
for receiving a gift I never wanted."
"...."
"There are people out there—real monsters. Rapists. Murderers. Traffickers. People who destroy lives for fun, who take and take and take and never give anything back, and they walk free.
They live comfortably in their mansions and their estates, and no one points fingers at them. Even many fucking nobles are like that. No one calls them failures. No one whispers behind their backs about how they should have been aborted."
He pointed at Sylvia, his finger trembling slightly, and his voice cracked again. "But ? I was a kid who made mistakes. I drank. I pushed people away. I acted out because I was in pain and I didn’t know how else to be, because I was ten and eleven and twelve years old and I had no one to talk to, no one to tell
that it would be okay, no one to hold
when I cried myself to sleep at night. And sohow, that makes
the villain of this story?"
Sylvia’s expression flickered, sothing shifting in her eyes—guilt, sha, or regret, or maybe all three at once.
She looked away for a mont, her jaw tightening, and when she looked back at him, her voice was quiet but steady. "It was your fault too, Leo. You pushed everyone away. You stopped coming to dinner. You locked yourself in your room. You wouldn’t talk to any of us, no matter how many tis we tried."
Leo laughed, a hollow and broken sound that echoed through the quiet garden. "I know. I know it was my fault too. I beca a delinquent. I started drinking. I pushed everyone away. I made mistakes, and I own that. I’m not standing here pretending I was innocent in all of this."
He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands in frustration. "I was a kid, Sylvia. A fucking kid. I was just starting to understand how cruel the world could be, and I didn’t know how to handle it. So I broke. That’s what broken people do. They break and fall apart. They push away the people who try to help them because they’re afraid of being hurt again."
He looked at her, and his voice was tired now, worn thin from years of carrying a weight that should never have been placed on his shoulders.
"I’m not the sa person who left for the trial, Sylvia. That person died in there. He died in a village called Wayford, watching his master get his head cut off by a man who was once his master’s student. He died while the people he knew from months died in front of his eyes."
"..."
He sighed, or what looked like a sigh. "He died when he killed the first human. He died when he killed a person who was like a family to him but also a traitor. He died in a laboratory, holding a girl in his arms while she asked him to kill her because the pain was too much to bear, and her body was breaking down and the only way to free her was to let her go."
Sylvia’s face paled, the color draining from her cheeks, and her hands trembled at her sides. "Leo, I didn’t—"
"No, you didn’t know. None of you knew. Because I didn’t tell you. Because I couldn’t tell you." A bitter smile twisted his lips.
"So go ahead. Tell
how I’m a disappointnt. Tell
how I failed. Tell
how I should have just stayed dead and saved everyone the trouble. I’ve heard it all before. From strangers, from nobles, from people who don’t know
and don’t care to know . But coming from you? From my own sister? That would be new."
Sylvia’s hands clenched into fists at her sides, her knuckles white, her whole body trembling with the effort of holding herself together. "You think I want to say any of that? You think I want to stand here and listen to you talk about dying like it’s nothing, like it doesn’t an anything to anyone? You left us all behind for seven months not knowing if you were alive or dead?"
"I don’t know what you want, Sylvia." Leo’s voice was quiet now, almost tired.
"I’ve never known what you want. You were busy with your life when I was a kid, and you never looked back. You sent ssages, sure. You called on holidays, sotis. But you weren’t there. You didn’t see what was happening to
while you were off at the academy, making friends and building your future and living your life like nothing was wrong."
"Because you pushed everyone away!" Sylvia’s voice rose, cracking at the edges, and he could see the tears gathering in her eyes, the ones she was fighting so hard to hold back. "Because every ti I tried to talk to you, you shut
out! Every ti I tried to help, you told
to leave you alone!"
"Because I was drowning!" Leo’s voice rose to match hers, raw and broken and full of years of pain that had never been spoken aloud.
"Because I was ten years old with a B-rank core in a family of monsters, and every ti I walked into a room, I could hear the whispers. ’What a sha.’ ’The Celestial line, ruined.’ ’He should have been aborted.’"
He laughed again, but there was no humor in it, just the hollow echo of a child who had been told too many tis that his existence was a mistake. "Do you know what that does to a person? Do you have any idea what it feels like to grow up being told, every single day, that your existence is a mistake? That you should have died? That you’re a disappointnt to everyone who ever believed in you?"
Sylvia’s face was white now, bloodless, her lips pressed together so tightly they had all but disappeared. Her eyes were wet, and her hands were shaking, and she looked like she wanted to say sothing but didn’t know how.
Leo stepped closer to her, close enough that he could see the tears trembling on her lashes. "I was just a kid trying to figure out who I was in a world that had already decided I was nothing. And I didn’t know how to handle it, and I pushed everyone away because it hurt less than watching them leave on their own, because at least if I pushed them first, I could pretend it was my choice."
He looked at her, and his voice was quiet now, barely above a whisper. "But tell
sothing, Sylvia. Tell
the truth. Did any of you even try? Did you go to those maids who badmouthed
and cut out their tongues? Did you go to those noble kids who laughed at
and beat the shit out of them? Did you ever once stand up and say, ’That’s my brother. He’s a Celestial, and I’m proud of him. No one will talk bad about him while I’m around’?"
Sylvia opened her mouth, but no words ca out. She closed it again. Leo waited. The silence stretched between them, long and heavy, filled with everything that had never been said.
"No," he said finally, answering his own question. "You didn’t. No one did. You all just stood there and watched
drown, and then you had the audacity to act surprised when I stopped asking for help. You watched
pull away, watched
sink deeper and deeper, and you did nothing except throw empty platitudes and broken promises. ’It’ll get better.’ ’Just ignore them.’ ’Focus on your training.’"
His voice dripped with bitter sarcasm. "Great advice. Very great advice. Really helpful."
"...Leo," Sylvia whispered, her voice cracking.
"No, listen to ." He held up a hand, cutting her off. "I’m not saying this to make you feel guilty. I’m saying it because I need you to understand. I’m not the sa person I was before the trial. I can’t afford to be that person anymore. That person was weak. That person let the world walk all over him and never fought back. That person died in the War of Faith, buried under the ashes of a village that shouldn’t have burned."
He t her eyes, his gaze steady and cold.
"I’m not him. I’m not going to stand here and let you or this fucking world treat
like I’m still that scared, broken kid who didn’t know how to fight back. I’ve earned the right to stand here. I’ve earned the right to call myself a Celestial. And I don’t need your approval to know that."
The silence that followed was deafening. The birds had stopped singing, the wind had stopped blowing, and even the fountain seed to have quieted, as if the garden itself was holding its breath.
Sylvia’s hands were shaking. Her face was pale, and her eyes were wet, and she looked like she wanted to say sothing—a dozen things, a hundred things—but the words wouldn’t co.
Leo watched her for a mont, then sighed.
"Look," he said, his voice softer now, "I know I made mistakes. I know I pushed people away and made things worse. I’m not trying to say I was innocent in all of this. I beca a delinquent. I started drinking. I stopped coming to dinner and locked myself in my room and pretended I didn’t care about any of you. I own that. That was . That was my fault."
He looked at her.
"But tell
sothing, Sylvia. Did you ever try? Really try? Not just asking
if I was okay and then accepting it when I said I was fine. Did you ever push? Did you ever demand the truth? Did you ever once say, ’I don’t believe you, Leo. Talk to ’?"
Sylvia’s lips trembled. "I..."
"Did you go to those maids who whispered behind my back and remind them whose na they were slandering? Did you go to those noble kids who laughed at
and put the fear of the Celestial house into their hearts? Did you ever tell anyone that I was your brother and you were proud of , even when I was at my lowest?"
"..."
Leo clapped his hands together once, the sound sharp and final in the quiet garden. "See? You don’t have an answer. Of course you don’t. Because you never said anything like that. So don’t stand there and pretend you have the right to lecture
about my mistakes when you never even tried to understand them."
He reached into the void, his hand disappearing into a fold of space, and pulled out Tempest. The blade materialized in his grip, gleaming in the afternoon light, the edge sharp. He pointed it at Sylvia, his ocean-blue eyes eting hers.
"I challenge you to a duel, Sylvia von Celestial."
Sylvia’s eyes went wide. "What?"
"You heard ." Leo’s voice was steady, cold, and completely serious. "A duel. Right here, right now. No interference. No holding back. You want to take out your anger on ? Fine. Do it with a sword in your hand. You want to prove that I’m still the sa failure I’ve always been? Try it and see what happens."
"Leo, this is insane—"
"Am I wrong?" He tilted his head, his hair falling across his forehead. "Am I wrong to think that you’ve been wanting to do this since the mont you saw ? That you’ve been holding back because Mother is watching and Mia is here and Seris is a guest?"
Sylvia’s jaw tightened.
"Don’t." Leo’s voice was quiet now. "Don’t pretend. You’re a Celestial. We don’t pretend. We fight. We bleed. We earn everything we have." He raised Tempest higher, the blade catching the light. "So draw your sword, sister. Let’s settle this like the sweet family we are."
Sylvia stared at him for a long mont. Then, slowly, her hand moved to the sword at her hip. Her fingers wrapped around the hilt, and she drew the blade in one smooth motion, the steel whispering against the scabbard.
The light glinted off the edge, and Leo saw himself reflected in the tal—white hair, cold eyes, and a small, sharp smile that wasn’t quite a smile at all.
"You’re insanely serious," Sylvia said.
"I’m always serious." He shifted his stance, settling into a fighting position. "But that doesn’t make
wrong."
Sylvia’s eyes blazed, and she raised her sword.
The garden waited.
_
Author’s Note:
Hello, everyone!
This Chapter is long. Well, it was because I have combined two Chapters into one. Can’t let you all pay extra, right? So enjoy the double length.
Also, if you have noticed so repeated lines that could be trimd—I know. But I have let them go intentionally to make the voice feel a bit more raw. The emotions here needed that roughness, not a polished cut.
You might also notice Leo says "Et tu?" to Mia and his mother when they step aside.
This is a reference to "Et tu, Brute?" — the famous Latin phrase attributed to Julius Caesar as he was being assassinated by his friend Brutus. It translates to "And you, Brutus?" or "Even you, Brutus?"
The phrase represents the ultimate betrayal, not from an enemy, but from soone you trusted. When Leo says "Et tu?" to his own family stepping aside to let Sylvia attack him, it carries that sa weight of betrayal. He expected them to protect him. They didn’t.
That’s all for now.
Thank you for reading!
Reviews
All reviews (0)