"Whoa... he looks dead."
The mont Daylan's voice echoed through the room, the tavern keeper instinctively turned toward him and rose to his feet.
"Please forgive . I'll tell you everything... and, in fact, take your money." He blurted, dropping to his knees, begging and sniffling as tears stread down his cheeks.
Daylan and the others exchanged glances. "Alright... go ahead, tell ," Daylan said, his voice tinged with awkwardness.
"They aren't the Phantoms, that's true." He shivered, lifting his gaze to Daylan. "They are the Ledgern. They make more money the longer soone remains in their debt."
The ledgern weren't necessarily warriors; they were a cult devoted to the demon Mammon. According to the Keeper, they acted as financial backers for the Phantoms whenever possible—though how that arrangent ca to be, he didn't know.
What he did know was that the Ledgern grew richer the longer their debtors remained in debt. The demon Mammon never ceased to fill their coffers.
They perford blood sacrifices, but beyond that, the Ledgern were harmless compared to the Phantoms. Though they had a few influential mbers among their ranks, they were far fewer in number—not even a third the size of the Phantoms.
He hurried to reassure Daylan. "I don't know anything extraordinary about the Phantoms. I've said everything... trust , I don't." He then turned to Astara and dora.
"I only wanted to join the Ledgern, but their rituals were too much for , so I ran... they never kidnapped ."
"Why lie? Why lie about being kidnapped?" Astara asked, her voice steady and firm.
"Money... It was all about money. People kept coming around, asking about the Phantoms, so I did it to get money, because they were going to die anyway." He struck his head against the floor once more. "Please, don't kill ."
The keeper's words cleared up a few things in Daylan's mind. He had suspected that Enzo took pleasure in keeping his family in debt—doing everything he could to prevent them from paying it off.
But it still left him with more questions. What did his mother gain from being in debt? Was she benefiting from it too? And, a question he had tried so hard to ignore—did all of this an his mother killed him?
Daylan remained silent as the others bombarded the keeper with questions, trying to extract more than he had already revealed. The keeper continued sobbing, pleading repeatedly, begging them to let him go.
Daylan leaned forward. "Who's the leader of the Phantoms?"
The tavern keeper turned to him, his expression darkening. "I can't tell you that. No one is allowed to."
Without a word, the keeper was pulled back into the orb. Fear gripped him as he began to scream and plead for release, but his cries echoed into silence—Daylan and the others heard nothing.
They tried to piece together everything the keeper had revealed. Daylan ntioned the strange things he'd noticed about Enzo, but in the end, they all circled back to the sa questions that haunted him.
If his mother truly was the leader of the Phantoms, then maybe she had manipulated Enzo—used him to conceive Zira solely to gain the allegiance of the Ledgern. Maybe. But he couldn't bring himself to believe such a claim. Not yet—not without more.
Trapped in their endless loop of spiraling questions, they summoned the keeper once more. The mont he realized his surroundings had changed, he couldn't help but spill everything he knew.
"Trust ... no one knows her na, but she has this unusual Luck ability. The Ledgern talked about her all the ti—they said she killed her husband, the forr leader of the organization, and took his place. That's all I know."
Daylan's heart sank deeper than ever before. He nervously ran his hands over his face, his leg bouncing restlessly against the floor.
How cruel can humans be?—he thought, fighting the urge to cry.
"Can I go now?"
They all turned to Daylan, waiting for his response. Without a word, he grabbed the keeper's hand. In an instant, they were back in the alley they had used the day before.
Barely waiting on a breath, the keeper's throat was slit. He collapsed to the ground, gasping for air as they stared down at him—Daylan's expression cold and unreadable. A mont later, they were back in the living room.
"Let guess, you killed him."
Without a word to dora, Daylan simply leaned on the sofa, his head tilted at the ceiling.
He felt no remorse after killing the keeper. At that mont, he cared little for his own feelings—nothing else mattered except Zira. He had to get her away from their mother, to sowhere safer. And he knew his place wasn't it.
dora and Astara waited in silence, waiting on Daylan for instructions. They knew he wasn't in the right state of mind to lead just yet, so they remained still, careful not to disturb him with words or movent. Daylan simply stared up at the ceiling, completely lost in thought.
Did his mother truly want to have them? Or were they rely children she brought into the world to serve her own ends?
After a brief mont, Daylan rose to his feet and made his way to his room. His head was spinning—hollow, yet still processing. The thoughts crowding his mind were overwhelming; he didn't know what to think or how to feel. All he knew was that he needed to calm his mind.
He hurled himself into his bed, his heartbeat echoing in his mind as he listened to its unbalanced rhythm.
His body wasn't tired, and his thoughts continued to race despite its emptiness. I need to protect Zira—he thought to himself over and over.
Not long ago, all he wanted was to keep his 'father' away from his family—and to kill him. But now, everything had hit him far too hard. If it had been his father, it would've been easier; he barely knew the man. But his mother?
The woman he had grown to love... she was the reason his father was gone. She killed him. And now, he was faced with the unthinkable: he might have to kill her before she could hurt him or his sister.
The words and thoughts ca easily enough—I must protect my loved ones, and if this is true, then Mother isn't one of them.
It sounded simple. But just the thought of actually doing it made his body tremble with fear.
Giselle Rhys—the leader of Phantom, the source of his family's tornt, and the inevitable wall he had to climb. That much was certain, and he would face it, no matter what. But in that mont, he just wanted to let himself feel everything there was to feel about it... even though he felt nothing—except fear.
The fear ran deep—not just in him, but between his two souls. Even Dexter felt it. When it ca to cruel parents, Dexter understood better than anyone. Each thought was a tornt he couldn't shake. Was the fear truly for himself? Or was it pity—for Giselle, as a mother?
Before Daylan knew it, his ever-active mind and restless body finally gave in to sleep. He lay there, snoring softly, his limbs resting in quiet stillness.
If he could choose a dream, he would have wished for a perfect family—one where they all lived happily, both in his past life and his present one. But as it turned out, this family was no different from the last—filled with cruel, selfish parents. A dream where he had a better family didn't seem like too much to ask. But even that, it seed, was out of reach.
Before long, Daylan awoke from a dreamless sleep. He sat on his bed, one thought echoing clearly in his mind—he had to visit his family.
It was a few hours past the afternoon. Visiting now ant he would arrive late at night—and though there was a chance he wouldn't find his mother at ho, since she'd been leaving Zira alone every day, he didn't care. He just wanted to see them.
Without a mont's hesitation, he went to the living room and told the others about his visit.
They didn't question him—without a word, they simply got ready and chose to go with him.
The atmosphere was tense as they stepped outside and hailed a carriage. But Daylan broke the silence with a joke, and from there, the mood began to lighten. Their conversation turned casual—lifting the weight that had settled over them.
He wished his actions weren't just a way of deceiving himself—and that when he finally saw his mother's face, he could still wear the sa cheerful smile. If there were a god he could pray to, that would be his constant plea, whispered again and again.
However, Daylan enjoyed the mont while bracing himself for what lay ahead.
I can do this. I just have to avoid her gaze... focus on Zira. Yeah. Zira. Just Zira.
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