Without hesitation, Marianne lifted Seris into her arms, and they rushed down the hallway together.
The nursery door was slightly open.
Lyra pushed it wider and froze in place.
Her son was lying on the floor.
His small body was twisted awkwardly. His nightclothes were soaked with blood. His skin looked pale, almost bluish, and his breathing came in weak, shallow gasps.
A sound escaped Lyra's throat, something between a cry and a gasp.
She dropped to her knees and pulled him into her arms.
"No, no, no…" Her voice broke.
He winced when she touched him, his tiny face contorting in pain.
"Marianne, help me! He's bleeding. He's not moving right," she cried.
Marianne hurried forward, still holding Seris close. Her face had gone pale.
Then the door behind them slammed open, hitting the wall with a loud crack.
Adrian burst in.
His face was slick with sweat, and his hair was a mess.
"Lyra! There was an intruder. He put everyone to sleep last night. We lost documents, some gold—"
He stopped mid-sentence.
Lyra didn't look up.
She was trembling, holding their son as if letting go would make him vanish.
Adrian stepped closer. "What happened?"
When he saw the blood, the words caught in his throat.
His eyes widened, and for a moment, all emotion vanished from his face.
Then it all came crashing in.
Shock, fear, anger.
He forced himself to breathe.
As the head of the household, he couldn't afford to lose control now.
He exhaled slowly, his gaze shifting. The warmth in his eyes disappeared, replaced by a cold, piercing calm.
His pupils dimmed to a dull gray.
"Lyra," he said quietly, his voice unnervingly calm. "Let me see him."
She hesitated but handed their son over, her hands trembling.
Adrian laid the boy on the bed and unbuttoned his shirt carefully.
A dark bruise covered his chest, spreading toward his ribs.
"Broken ribs," Adrian muttered under his breath.
He looked around the room.
The golden toys from last night's party were gone. Drawers were open, and items were scattered.
But the blood told him everything he needed to know.
This wasn't just a robbery.
The thief had used sleeping gas, something only an Exorcist would carry. And they had taken only gold, not cash or documents.
That wasn't random.
Adrian clenched his jaw.
'The robbery was a front,' he thought. 'The real target was him.'
Someone had hurt his son and left him half-dead. It wasn't an accident or a theft. It was a message.
'They want me to know they can touch my family whenever they want.'
Lyra was sobbing quietly beside him, unable to stop shaking.
Adrian turned and pulled her into his arms, kissing her forehead gently.
"It's okay. I'll call the doctor. He'll be alright. I promise."
Marianne stood near the bed, still holding Seris.
"I… I didn't know what happened. I swear on our family name we had nothing to do with this," Marianne spoke nervously.
"You don't need to worry, Marianne. No one is blaming Seris or you. We know you haven't done anything."
Marianne nodded quickly, but she couldn't relax.
The dullness in Adrian's eyes unsettled her. It felt like the air around him had thickened, pressing down on everyone in the room.
They called the doctor right away.
When he arrived, he moved with quiet urgency.
His face grew darker the longer he examined the boy.
After a while, he straightened and looked at them.
"He has two fractured ribs, internal bleeding, and bruises along his back and side. The injuries were caused by blunt force. If you had waited even a few more hours before calling me…"
He didn't finish the sentence, but he didn't need to.
Lyra broke down again, covering her mouth to stop her sobs.
Marianne wrapped an arm around her, holding her tight while Seris clung to her leg and cried.
Adrian stood behind them, silent. His hands were clenched at his sides, and his eyes stayed fixed on the bed.
When the doctor finished patching up what he could and left the room, Adrian didn't move for a long time.
The sound of the closing door felt too loud in the quiet.
Finally, he turned and walked into the hallway.
He took out his phone.
As it rang, he stared out the window, the dullness still lingering in his eyes.
"I need you here. Right now," he finally said into the phone.
A few hours later, a car stopped outside the house.
A woman stepped out.
She was tall with long black hair falling to her waist.
Her fitted coat and tight black jeans matched the twin swords at her sides.
Nisha Hall looked irritated.
"Bastard. Did you finally sell away the last of your shame? You have a lot of nerve calling me after—"
"Please guard my family for a day. You're the only one I can trust right now."
She blinked, thrown off by his tone. Then she looked at his eyes.
The color drained from her face.
Those hollow gray eyes were the mark of House Daelthorn.
"…Who are you going to kill, Adrian?"
He didn't respond.
Nisha sighed. "What happened?"
"Follow me. I'll show you."
She followed him down the hallway. The house was quiet, too quiet.
They entered the bedroom.
A small boy lay on the bed. His breathing was faint.
Lyra sat beside him, eyes red from crying.
"Lyra, why are you crying— Wait, is that your son? What happened to him?"
Lyra looked up, startled. Recognition crossed her face.
"Nisha?"
Nisha nodded, unsure what to say next.
Adrian explained what had happened.
Inwardly, Nisha cursed her tongue for recklessly asking why their son was injured.
She awkwardly stepped forward. She wasn't great with emotions, but she sat beside Lyra and tried to comfort her.
"He'll be okay," she said softly.
The night passed slowly. No one slept much.
Nisha stayed in the hallway, her swords resting at her sides. The air felt heavy, like something terrible was waiting outside.
Adrian was alone in his room.
He wore black slacks and a white shirt, buttoned to the collar. Gloves covered his hands.
He knelt by his drawer and pulled out a hidden compartment.
Inside was a single katana, wrapped in faded silk.
The moment he touched it, the air around him grew cold.
The sword carried an old, dark presence. As if it was death itself.
He held it for a long moment before strapping it to his belt.
It felt natural, almost comforting, after years of being untouched.
Then he stood and pulled on a long black coat, letting the weapon disappear beneath it.
When he stepped out into the hallway, Nisha was already there.
She blocked his path.
"You're going to the main estate, aren't you?"
"I'll be back by morning."
"Adrian, think about this. If you go back there, you know what'll happen. Don't go—"
"Nisha, my son was harmed, and it happened on his first birthday."
Adrian stared at her with his grey, hollow eyes.
"This wasn't the work of a rogue Exorcist. If it was, they wouldn't have harmed only my son, and left him half-dead. They would've either only stolen things or injured everyone. This was different."
He met her gaze.
"It was a message. A warning, directed at me, Adrian Daelthorn."
Nisha's eyes widened slightly.
He hadn't used his real name in years, but now he said it again.
"Only someone from the main house could've done this. They are the only ones who know my real identity, and where I live now."
She looked away. "You really think they'd go that far?"
"They already did."
Years ago, the head of House Daelthorn gave Adrian a choice: death or exile.
He chose exile, destroying his dantian to live.
But many in the family never accepted that.
They called him a traitor, and said he had gotten off easy.
"Someone from the main house chose my son's first birthday to attack," he said quietly. "They didn't come for me. They came for him."
He didn't need to explain what that meant.
The message was clear.
That this was just the beginning.
That something worse would happen in the future.
And that Adrian could not protect his family even if he knew everything.
Nisha clenched her fists.
"Adrian, let's not get hasty. We should focus on protecting your family, not revenge. I can get help. Guards, contacts—"
"Yes, we'll get guards," Adrian interrupted. "But if they think they can harm my family and walk away, they're wrong. They need to learn there are some lines you don't cross."
He stepped past her.
"Adrian!" She turned, following him. "You're really going back there? That's suicide. You know what they'll do if they see you again."
"They'll try to kill me."
She grabbed his arm.
"You're walking into their territory. You're not even supposed to exist to them. The moment you get close—"
"Nisha."
He pried her hand off gently.
"I'll be back by morning."
He walked toward the door, coat trailing behind him.
Nisha stood still, watching him go, her jaw tight.
He didn't look back.
It was time to remind them why Adrian Daelthorn had once been called the Sword Dragon.