Malachi's chambers were a ruin of smoke and shattered stones. He paced through the debris, his eyes glowing like dying embers.
Every energy ball he'd thrown had left a crater in the walls, but his rage remained untouched.
"They release the Serpent of Carnage and expect me to play the executioner?" He grabbed a ceremonial sword, slicing through the fine tapestries. "They poison my waters, incite rebellions, and then beg for my mercy? They are lucky I haven't turned the tower into a pyre."
"Cherry."
The voice was cool, fearless.
Ailla stepped over the rubble, her bronze skin shimmering under the firelight.
She was dressed in Malachi's favorite crimson, her brown, curly hair cascading down her back like a silken storm. She walked straight into his path, placing a steady hand on his chest.
"All it took was a few words from that pack of wolves and you're destroying your own palace?" she whispered.
Malachi didn't look at her. "I'm leaving, Ailla."
"To the human realm again?" Her eyes flashed with a sudden, sharp resentment.
"The Serpent is free because you spend your days among the mortals. What is it, Malachi? A lover? You have a harem of wives here what could a human possibly offer you?"
Malachi scuffed, pushing her hand away as he strode toward the door. "I'll love to see you try to find out."
"I'll reduce that realm to ash!" Ailla screamed at his retreating back, slamming a chair against the wall until it burst into flames.
At the Ruohan Residence, the air was just as suffocating, but for a different reason. The Annual Family Dinner had begun.
While the maids Zora, Cisca, and Sarki scrubbed and gossiped in the kitchens about how "Master Karas hugs Zaliyah like a kitten to its mommy," the real war was happening in the grand dining hall.
Lord Caius sat at the head of the long, mahogany table. He was a man of iron and stone, his eyes constantly searching for a reason to be disappointed.
To his right sat Riosuka, looking elegant but tense, her hand resting protectively near Zaliyah.
Across from them sat the Ruohan elders Grandfather Ruohan, a man who smelled of old paper and bitterness, and Aunt Mei, whose smile never reached her sharp eyes.
"So," Aunt Mei began, her voice like a knife through silk. "Zaliyah is still... reading? Tell me, nephew, do you plan to make a career of hiding in the library, or do you intend to contribute to the family name eventually?"
Zaliyah didn't look up from his plate. His white hair shaded his eyes, and his ears.
"Literature offers a peace that people rarely do, Aunt Mei."
"It offers laziness," Grandfather Ruohan grunted. He turned his heavy gaze to Riosuka. "I told you eighteen years ago, bringing a stray into this house was a mistake. He is too pale, too quiet. He has no fire for the Ruohan legacy."
Lord Caius cleared his throat, the sound like a hammer strike. "Enough. Zaliyah is a son of this house, even if only by name.
"And what of your real son?" Aunt Mei turned her predatory gaze to Karas, who was sitting close enough to Zaliyah that their sleeves touched.
"Karas, you are the pride of the city.
You're handsome, wealthy, and of age. Why aren't you married? We've heard rumors of a daughter from a reputable bank-owning family a true White Lotus."
Karas didn't flinch. He reached out, his fingers grazing Zaliyah's hand beneath the table.
The maids' gossip about them being "inseparable" was true, but even they didn't know the depth of the bond.
Karas had protected Zaliyah from the bullies of their youth he wasn't about to let his own family pick him apart now.
"My heart is currently... occupied," Karas said, his voice a soothing, dangerous balm.
"I have no need for a White Lotus when I already have everything I treasure right here."
The table went silent. Riosuka looked down at her lap, her face pale. She knew. She had always known.
Back in the Underworld, the silence in Lilith's room was broken by a wet, hacking cough.
Mephisa stood over her daughter, clutching the bleeding stump where her horn used to be.
"The child is dead, Lilith. I threw the hybrid into the bottomless waterfall myself. He is nothing but bone and dust."
Lilith stood up slowly, her purple eyes glowing with a cold, terrifying light. She leaned in, her voice a whisper.
"You look better with a single horn, Mother. I can't wait to see how you look with none."
Mephisa's face contorted with rage. "You ungrateful brat! I saved your life, I saved your soul from being shattered to pieces!"
"You saved me for a life of misery," Lilith replied, turning her back. "If my son is dead, then so is the daughter you once knew. Now, leave."
As Mephisa stormed out, Lilith looked out the window toward the human realm. Deep in her marrow, she felt a pull. The "stain" on her soul was still beating. Somewhere, her son was breathing.