Erus leaned against the window frame, watching Cana inspect the room Mesi had provided. He was the one who had insisted on sharing a room with her, reasoning that they were already used to it—though the truth was, he couldn't bring himself to fully trust Mesi yet. To him, the dealer was still a stranger who had yet to prove his worth.
"I thought you trusted him," Erus murmured.
"Mm..." Cana nodded, her eyes sweeping over the walls. "I'm just admiring how this place was constructed despite him lacking his normal strength. Notice the bricks? They're sealed with protection wards. Ordinary eyes wouldn't even see this house," she noted, a subtle grin touching her lips.
"I didn't know you were this attentive to detail now. Did you always know these secret arts, or have you started regaining your memories?"
She sat in the chair beside the bed, her face settling into its usual composed mask—neither angered nor surprised by his sudden probing.
"I don't know how to explain it so you'll clearly understand, but the other me has no knowledge of any of this. She relies purely on instinct. It's only when your safety is on the line that I take full control." She made no attempt to lie or conceal the existence of her dual personas.
Her confession caught Erus completely off guard. In an instant, he closed the distance between them, his lean frame looming over her seated figure.
"You knew?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Then... who is the real you?" He was desperate for an answer.
Cana scoffed softly, a teasing smile playing on her lips.
"Who do you think? Which one do you feel closer to? Which one do you trust with your whole heart? That will give you your answer."
Erus let out a low sigh. It wasn't the answer he was looking for. Despite Cana's split nature, he trusted both sides of her—even if her lunatic side terrified him to his core.
"Are you playing with me?" he asked, disappointment lacing his tone.
"Do you feel like a toy to me?"
Erus pursed his lips, falling silent as her question hung in the air. Had he ever truly felt like she was playing with him?
"I could tell you everything from the very beginning, but can you bear the heavy cost of knowing that dark history—including your own past?"
"What?"
"If I tell you now, it means rewriting the world mortals know. Your mother, your friends, and everyone close to your heart will become the sacrifice. Can you bear drinking their blood just for a truth that no longer needs to be unburied?"
Erus' eyes widened in shock.
"A...are you insane? What are you even talking about?"
"I'm telling you the cost if you insist on uncovering who I truly am right now."
"I'm not," he said quickly, taking a step back to straighten his posture. "I'm really not asking anymore. Just... don't be so unnervingly mysterious. It creeps me out."
Cana let out a quiet chuckle. She hadn't realized she was capable of instilling genuine fear in a man like him.
"Whichever version of me stands before you, it is still me. You don't need to doubt which one is real, because both share the exact same priority. You."
"Cana," Erus warned, though she hadn't moved a muscle. She was merely speaking, yet he felt a sudden wave of heat rush to his face, his skin flushing hot beneath his collar.
He clenched his fists, but before he could pull away, Cana reached out and gently took his hands in hers. The simple touch threw him into absolute disarray. How in the heavens did she manage to disarm him so effortlessly?
Cana offered him a genuine, soft smile.
"Whichever version of me you're facing, just treat me however you feel. You don't need to force yourself to walk on eggshells."
He swallowed hard. Cana genuinely meant every word, and the temptation to completely lose himself in her was overwhelming.
"I... I know. You don't have to keep telling me that," he forced out, trying to reclaim some semblance of control, though the heat flushing beneath his skin refused to subside.
Just how far was she going to push him?
Noticing his growing discomfort, Cana gently released his hands. Perhaps she had pushed a bit too far and genuinely unnerved him this time.
"I'm going to take a nap," she said smoothly. "Care to join?"
"What? No! I'm... going down to help the fox prepare dinner," he blurted out, the words tumbling out too fast. "Just rest as much as you want."
In a flash, the door slammed shut behind him, leaving Cana sitting alone in the quiet room, struggling to suppress her laughter.
Erus marched down the stairs, scratching the back of his head in a mess of irritation and utter confusion over what was happening to him. At first, he had convinced himself he was simply acting on his own terms, but now... he realized he was completely incapable of defying Cana in a way he couldn't even explain. It couldn't be their contract working in reverse—he was indisputably the master, and she was the servant.
Lost in his spiraling thoughts, he didn't even register stepping into the kitchen.
Mesi froze, staring at him like he was a lost dog that had wandered into the wrong house.
"Do you... need something?" Mesi asked, instantly on guard, half-expecting Erus to pull a blade. He cast a quick glance behind the man, but Cana was nowhere in sight.
Erus didn't answer right away. He let out a long, heavy sigh before locking his gaze onto Mesi. If the dealer could see the deep scowl hidden behind his golden mask right now, he would probably be terrified.
"What's for dinner? I'll be the one cooking."
Mesi stared, completely thrown off. The infamous Tyrant, voluntarily offering to cook? Was he always like this? How could the rest of the empire view this man as a cursed monster if he possessed a side like this?
"Are you—"
"I don't eat food prepared by strangers," Erus cut in sharply, reading the utter disbelief written across Mesi's face. He wasn't about to let the fox draw any wrong conclusions.
Mesi nodded in quiet defeat, conceding out of caution. Erus had a point—after being abandoned by his own bloodline, it was only natural for the man to be relentlessly paranoid and forever on guard.
"Take over the kitchen however you like, Mr. Solari," Mesi said, gesturing toward the ingredients stacked in his storage. "If you don't mind... can I watch you cook?"
"Afraid I might poison you?"
Mesi raised both hands in surrender, shaking his head. "Honestly, that didn't even cross my mind. If you really wanted to kill me, you'd just cut me in half, wouldn't you?"
Erus shot him a cold look. "Misbehave, and I will."
"I won't bother you. I'll just watch in case you need an extra set of hands," Mesi insisted. In truth, he was treading carefully, analyzing Erus' every word and gesture. He had nowhere else to go and nothing better to do—and disturbing Cana upstairs was easily the worst mistake he could make, unless he wanted his little den painted red.
Erus didn't bother responding. He began sifting through the food storage, picking out whatever caught his eye. Mesi's heart nearly jumped out of his chest when Erus suddenly tossed a handful of potatoes straight at him without warning.
"Don't over-peel them, or I'm taking your hands," Erus ordered curtly.
"Ah—right! Yes, of course. I'm actually great at peeling potatoes," Mesi stammered, managing to regain his composure as he quickly grabbed a small paring knife. He made sure to put a very generous amount of distance between himself and Erus, completely caught off guard that the Tyrant had actually accepted his help.
While the sound of a knife hitting the cutting board reigned over the quiet kitchen of Mesi's house, neither of them had any idea of the chaos Erus's squad was currently facing.
As the gloaming set in, bleeding blood-orange across the land, Kyla and her team were running on absolute empty alongside the other hunters. They had successfully cornered all the dragon crawlers, yet they hadn't managed to put down a single one. To make matters worse, Kyla's binding spell was reaching its absolute limit. She wasn't sure it would hold until the heavy cages arrived from the city. They had alerted the elders and requested aid from neighboring guilds, but only a handful of top-tier hunters had been dispatched. Not a single elder had bothered to show up.
The true whereabouts of the elder who owned the manor were deliberately kept from the general hunters. Only the Grand Abyss held that knowledge—excluding Erus, who was currently nowhere to be found.
"Hoo..." Glecy exhaled sharply, finally collapsing onto the dirt after treating her last patient. Her stomach churned with nausea, a direct side effect of draining her mana to patch up those wounded mortals. "This is more exhausting than a damn mission," she muttered.
The surrounding hunters stared at her, every single one of them sharing the same hollow, exhausted expression. Glecy's abilities were far superior to theirs—if she was this thoroughly spent, the rest of them were practically dead on their feet. If only she could break through to the next level, but her growth was completely stagnant. Even with Solari's guidance, they couldn't figure out why her mana refused to break its ceiling.
A sleek silver flask suddenly entered her line of sight. She squinted upward to confirm the owner before reaching out for it.
"Overexerting yourself again. You look like you're about to pass out," Ryden chided, his voice laced with heavy fatigue.
He dropped to the ground beside Glecy as she tipped the flask back, gulping down the water.
Watching her struggle to breathe only spiked his stress. Glecy was their only promising healer and the undisputed backbone of their squad. Seeing her on the brink of collapse was a disaster waiting to happen. She had nearly died once before from burning out her mana just to prove her worth to her aristocratic family—they couldn't afford a repeat of that nightmare.
"Thanks," Glecy rasped, handing the silver flask back to him. "Most of the victims are shredded. The healers from the other guilds can't even close the flesh. We can't evacuate them with open wounds like that."
She had been forced to burn through her reserves, knowing full well that failing to do so would turn this disaster into a full-scale massacre.
"Can you still hold on?" Ryden asked, his usual sharp edge softening into raw concern.
Glecy offered a weak pout, attempting to play it off with a fragile grin, though deep down, the shear agony made her want to weep.
"Tsk. Fuck those old hags," Ryden spat, letting out a harsh, jagged sigh. His jaw clenched tight, eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. "They're moving too damn slow. Are they waiting for us all to get slaughtered out here?"
If the higher-ups didn't show their cowardly faces within the next half hour, he was going to break protocol and contact their Captain directly. He didn't give a damn if Solari ended up ransacking the council chambers and flipping tables on those elders for their pathetic lack of urgency. The Grand Abyss was doing everything in their power to contain this bloodbath without dragging their leader into it—because the absolute last thing anyone wanted to see today was the flash of Erus's crimson eyes.
Squeezing out every remaining second to rebuild their drained mana was the only option left while waiting for backup.
While everyone was desperately tending to their broken bodies, a frantic shout shattered the quiet from the perimeter guarding the pinned beasts.
"Oh no! One beast escaped the binding!"
Panic instantly rippled through the ranks. The surrounding hunters, already operating on absolute physical and mental exhaustion after the horrors of the day, couldn't even process a coherent thought.
"What? Already?" Glecy gasped. She had held onto the fragile hope that Kyla's magic would endure a little longer, even without her active support.
"Stay back. We'll handle it," Ryden commanded, cutting her off as she struggled to her feet.
"But—"
She tried to argue, but Ryden gave her no chance. Before she could finish her thought, he scooped her up into his arms and launched into the air, landing them squarely on a nearby rooftop.
"Put me down! What the hell are you doing, Ryden?" She shoved against his chest.
"Do you really have the guts to face those crimson eyes later?"
The question slammed into her, instantly shutting her mouth and dragging her back to reality. Solari as their squad Captain was infinitely more terrifying than any spiky monster tearing up the ground below. He never bluffed about bloodshed.
"Do not die on me, or I'll kill you twice."
The words echoed in the back of her mind, sending a jagged shiver down her spine. That was Solari's singular, absolute rule for the Grand Abyss. While none of them had been foolish enough to break it yet, having witnessed what he did to enemies and insubordinate hunters was more than enough proof to keep them in line.
Seeing that Glecy was no longer recklessly forcing herself forward, Ryden offered a brief, faint smirk and patted her head before throwing himself back into the chaos below.
Left alone on the roof, Glecy could do nothing but clasp her hands together, silently praying for her team's survival. From where she sat, she could hear everyone screaming frantic orders and throwing out reckless ideas—sacrificing anything and anyone just to survive.
"Stop scrambling like rats! You're wasting your energy just trying to save your own skins!" Kyla barked, her patience snapping at the complete breakdown of order.
It sickened her to watch these hunters instantly succumb to cowardice the second a single beast broke its bindings. They were burning through their mana to protect themselves without a single thought for the helpless civilians around them. The very people sent here as reinforced backup were more than willing to shove others into the meat grinder just to buy themselves a few extra seconds.
"What do we do now? They aren't even listening!" Verna asked, panic bleeding into her voice as she watched the line crumble.
"You're holding the damn holy sword! Why aren't you using it to save us?" a hunter spat, desperate to flee, though the loose dragon crawler was actively cutting off his escape route.
The accusation slammed into Kyla, but if he thought a little cheap guilt would break her, he was dead wrong. She might carry the holy sword, but she wasn't responsible for their pathetic lives.
"You idiot! If this sword could solve everything on its own, do you think I'd be sweating blood and draining my mana out here? Are you saying my efforts up until now mean nothing to you?"
Her rage fell on deaf ears. The cowards only kept shoving the burden onto whoever held more power, using it as an excuse to run.
"Kyla, preserving your energy is far more valuable than throwing it away on that trash," Akiro said coldly, his knuckles turning stark white as his fists clenched. It made his blood boil to watch these ungrateful bastards treat his sister like a disposable tool.
"Don't mind those cowards, Vice-Captain Kyla! We're still here to fight alongside you! Whatever the outcome, we stand with you!" a shout rang out from a small cluster of hunters wearing the crest of the Castle of Lion guild.
"Hear that? Your fan club actually stuck around," Akiro muttered, a rare flicker of pride breaking through his scowl.
A sudden sting hit Kyla's eyes, but she refused to let tears fall—there was zero time for sentimentality on a battlefield. Still, knowing they weren't completely abandoned in this meat grinder reignited her dying resolve.
Yet, just as a sliver of hope rekindled among the front lines, a blood-curdling shriek pierced the air, ripping everyone's attention back toward the center of the ruined courtyard.
"The dragon crawler is evolving! It's growing a second head!"