Happenings

Just because someone doesn't love you the way you want them to, doesn't mean they don't love you with all they have. 

—

House Silva:

"Loyce… is alive…?" Acier blinked in disbelief, seated at the edge of her bed with Noelle sleeping snugly in her arms.

"Yes." Sebastian nodded as he gently ran his fingers through his daughter's hair, causing Noelle to smile in her sleep.

Acier was too distracted to take comfort in the gesture. She looked up at her husband.

"What are you going to do now?"

Sebastian ran a hand through his hair before responding. "I'm going to visit the Fausts, then head off with Draven and Nathan somewhere. Care to tag along?"

Acier paused, then smiled and shook her head. "No, I have plans of my own."

"Oh?" Sebastian raised a brow. "Care to fill me in, dear wife?"

Acier chuckled, shaking her head again. "It's a surprise, my dear husband."

"For me?" Sebastian asked.

"For Dorothy," Acier replied.

Sebastian paused, then shrugged and leaned in. "Well, have fun." He gave Acier a peck on the lips, making her blush, before planting a soft kiss on Noelle's forehead.

As Sebastian turned to leave, Acier smiled warmly and twirled a lock of her hair. "Be safe."

Sebastian glanced over his shoulder and grinned. "You too."

—

House Faust, Underground Lab

Sebastian stared at the object in front of him, feeling like he could cry tears of joy as he took in its pristine, smooth white frame and expansive oval seat leading into a bowl.

He kept his excitement buried beneath an impassive expression as he turned to Draven, who gestured toward the creation.

"This is the first complete prototype of the flushable toilet." Draven then pointed toward a pair of large water tanks. "Since we have yet to establish a full drainage, plumbing, and sewage system, as per your instructions, we've created these two tanks."

"The first holds clean water to replace the liquid in the toilet bowl, while the second collects feces and urine. Inside that tank is a magic circle that cleanses and purifies the water, disposing of the waste so it can be reused."

Draven walked over to the toilet seat and pulled up a sprinkler-like handlebar, connected to the toilet by a flexible pipe. Pressing down on a switch, he activated a steady stream of gentle water.

"We've also managed to implement the bidet."

He then snapped his fingers toward the toilet bowl. A woman in a lab coat, wearing a gentle smile, stepped forward.

She was one of many magic scholars Draven and Lilith had kidnapped from Morris' lab, now hypnotized into working for them as dedicated servants—people who would likely never see the light of day again.

She pulled out a jar filled with a red substance. Blood. Sebastian recognized it instantly but didn't ask whose it was. He didn't care.

She unscrewed the lid and poured the contents into the bowl, watching as the blood diluted into the toilet water. Then, with a gentle flick, she pressed the flush switch.

In an instant, the bloody water whirled down, blasting through the lower exit valve into the waste tank. Simultaneously, fresh, clean water flowed in from the upper valve, refilling the toilet bowl.

Clap! Clap! Clap!

Sebastian gave a round of applause. The woman beamed smugly, only to flinch and make herself scarce as Draven shot her a dark look.

Sebastian smiled softly as he glanced around the Fausts' secret underground chamber, taking in the towering electrical screens and machines—devices that could pass as supercomputers in his fake life.

Scattered throughout the lab, other captive mage scholars were busy designing and testing appliances and systems resembling microwaves, ovens, stoves, fridges, freezers, sprinklers, and more.

Sebastian nodded in satisfaction. Draven, meanwhile, clicked his tongue in displeasure. "All this intelligence, wasted on toys. It's frustrating."

Sebastian gave Draven a nonchalant pat on the shoulder. "Come now, Draven. There's more to life than devils and the underworld. Part of why your house studied them was for the thrill and excitement. Doesn't this technological revolution excite you?"

Draven batted his hand away with a scoff. "Not nearly as much as studying the dark arts and the forbidden."

Sebastian stroked his chin in thought before grinning. "Play along for a few more years. This will let you drown in wealth—wealth you can invest into your research and use to open new paths of exploration."

"I'm well aware. I wouldn't be cooperating otherwise," Draven sneered.

Sebastian fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Why are you in such a foul mood today? And where's Lilith?"

Draven blinked. "Does not concern you. And does not concern you."

This time, Sebastian did roll his eyes—plain as day. "If it doesn't concern me, then don't take your frustration out on me."

Draven froze, speechless for a second, then coughed awkwardly and cleared his throat.

"If you're done sightseeing, should we pop over to the Agrippas' to pick up Nathan and head out?"

Sebastian nodded. "Let's do that."

—

Elsewhere

At the edge of the common realm, not far from the populous town of Nean, stood a house.

A special house, belonging to a child of House Legolant—a young boy. Or rather, a young man now.

The Legolant descendant was of special circumstances. From a very young age, he had been cursed with a strange illness that required him to siphon magic from others to survive. Because of this, his family had been forced to move far from the noble realm, isolating themselves from society.

His parents had bought him this unique house, one capable of absorbing the mana of those who roamed inside or nearby, so he could continue to live.

Henry Legolant led a quiet, secluded life, continuously absorbing small, unnoticeable bursts of mana from his parents—just barely enough to get by, careful not to cause them discomfort.

Inside a grand room, Henry lay on his bed, feeling empty. Depressed.

He had always seen himself as a burden. Because of him, his family had given up their life of luxury, retreating to the middle of nowhere for his sake.

Though he and his parents were from a branch of House Legolant, they had still been high up in the hierarchy. His parents lost everything because of him—he never stopped feeling guilty about it.

Henry had never lived the life of a noble, but that didn't mean he was ignorant of the world. He knew most nobles wouldn't be willing to sacrifice their opulent, grand lifestyles for a single person, even if that person were their own child.

Yet his parents had. Without hesitation. Instead of disowning him, instead of casting him out, they had chosen to leave with him.

That made Henry feel happy. Warm. Loved.

But love has its limits.

Over the years, he had seen his parents less and less.

There was once a time they would sit outside his bedroom door, talking to him throughout the day—or simply enjoying one another's company in silence.

That hadn't happened in years.

There was once a time his mother would check on him constantly, knocking on his door every few minutes just to make sure he was still alive.

That hadn't happened in years.

His father used to cook and bring him meals.

Now, Henry had to get up and make them himself—only after verifying that his parents were nowhere near the kitchen.

There was a time when they would tell him all about the outside world, bring him newspapers, and buy him new clothes.

Now, his only view of the outside was through his bedroom window. He knew nothing of what was happening in the kingdom. Nothing of the world beyond.

Worse still, his parents spent less and less time in the house. They left so often, so frequently, that he was barely holding on.

He survived only on the thin mana he could absorb from the atmosphere, from the occasional magical creature or critter that wandered by, from the gems and magic crystals his parents left behind.

And even that was starting to feel… insufficient.

His parents were only ever home once or twice a week now.

At this rate, Henry wondered if he would even last long enough to receive a grimoire. He wondered if any day would be his last.

He felt less and less loved with each passing moment. He rarely heard his parents' voices anymore, and even when he did, nine times out of ten, they weren't speaking to him—just to each other.

Still, Henry loved them.

He knew there were plenty of parents out there who wouldn't have come back for him. Who wouldn't have continued returning, again and again, if he were their son.

He knew they had never had another child—not because they couldn't, not because they didn't want to, but because they were afraid. Afraid it would hurt him. Afraid he would feel replaced. Cast aside.

That thought warmed his heart. And at the same time, it made him want to die.

If he died, his parents would be free. Free to return to their lavish life, to start over with a child who wasn't broken.

If he died, he could finally be free of this life.

Countless times, Henry considered standing up, stepping outside, and breathing fresh air.

Walking through the grass. Wandering into the forest. Overlooking the beautiful plains.

Just once, he would love to see the sun. To bask in the sound of chirping birds. To inhale the scents of nature.

Even if it meant he would die.

But he never did.

He didn't dare leave the house that kept him alive. He was afraid.

Afraid that once he closed his eyes, he would never open them again. Afraid of fading away. Afraid of suddenly no longer existing. Afraid of returning to the earth.

Afraid of dying.

A dark part of him wondered—would his parents be sad if he died? Would they cry if he left them?

Did they still love him?

He never dared to find out.

Deep down, he felt certain that in a few years—or maybe even sooner—his parents would leave, just as they always did.

And this time, they would never come back.

So Henry decided to hold on until that day came.

He would live the rest of his pitiful life as long as he was loved. No matter how little it was.

And when that love was gone—when there was nothing left to hold onto—he would finally take that walk outside.

His first and final walk.

Until then, he would remain in his bed.

And no matter how hard it was, he would force himself to keep living.

His parents had given up so much for him. Given him so much.

The least he could do was endure until the very end of their love.

So he would live.

—

Rap! Rap! Rap!

Henry's eyes fluttered open.

A knock.

His body tensed slightly as he sat up, trying to smother the flicker of excitement and hope bubbling inside him. His voice came out slow, strained.

"Motherrrrr… or… Fatherrrrr… Issss… that… you?"

The bedroom door creaked open.

Henry froze.

Three men stood in the doorway. Strangers.

They didn't step inside. They knew better.

All three were tall, dressed far too well to be common thieves or bandits. One wore thick gothic makeup, his darkened eyes peering at Henry with an unreadable expression. Another had neatly combed black hair, a sharp goatee, and a devilish charm. The last had silver-white locks and an air of cold detachment.

Henry's heart pounded. Fear. It was rare for him to feel it, but now it crept in, curling around his confusion and unease.

"Whoooo… areeee… youuuuu?"

Silence.

The three men simply stared, studying him, their gazes dissecting every inch of him as if searching for something.

Henry clenched his fists. He didn't like this. The way they looked at him. The quiet. He was about to demand an answer when the silver-haired man turned his head toward the goateed one and gave him a brief, wordless nod.

The man with the goatee reached into his satchel and pulled something out.

A crystal.

Light blue. Pure. Radiating mana.

Henry's breath hitched. He had never seen such an untouched, concentrated mana crystal before.

The man tossed it into Henry's lap without a word.

The moment it touched him, his curse took over.

The crystal's glow flickered, then vanished entirely as his body greedily drained it dry. Within seconds, it dulled to a lifeless gray, then shattered into fine, clear shards.

Henry blinked, still processing what had just happened.

The silver-haired man leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, nodding in satisfaction. Finally, he spoke.

"Now you should at least be able to talk like a human being—for a while, right?"

Henry stiffened. His lips pressed together before he slowly parted them.

"Sirs… who may you be?"

The silver-haired man pointed to himself.

"I'm the Lord of House Silva."

Then, he gestured toward the goateed man.

"This is Lord Faust."

Finally, he motioned to the gothic man, his face shadowed in heavy makeup.

"And this is the head of the Agrippa family."

Henry's breath caught. He didn't recognize the last two names, but House Silva—that, he knew.

His gaze lingered on the silver-haired man's luxurious clothing. His natural silver locks.

It made the claim far more believable.

Henry sat up straighter, pushing down his unease. His voice wavered.

"I-it's clear y-you're here for me… because you know of my condition… how can I be of service to you three?"

Sebastian straightened, folding his arms behind his back.

"Do you want to be free?"

Henry blinked. "P-pardon?"

"You heard me." Sebastian's voice was steady. "Do you want to be free? And I don't mean dead. I mean cured—your curse dealt with, so you can live as a normal human. Amongst society. With people."

Henry's heart pounded.

"O-of course I-I do… are you s-sirs in any way capable of helping me achieve that?"

"Not immediately," Sebastian admitted. Then, before Henry could sink into despair, he added, "But given a little time—we can make it happen."

Henry froze. His body trembled.

He had never let himself dream of freedom. Hope was dangerous.

Doctors, healers—none of them could help. He wasn't sick. He was cursed.

He bit down on his lip.

"S-sir… are you making this up? B-because if you are—respectfully—i-it's not very funny."

Sebastian shook his head and gestured to the other two men.

"These two are pros when it comes to curses. My wife and son were afflicted not long ago. Nathan and Draven helped them. Given time, I believe they can do the same for you."

Henry's mind reeled. A storm of emotions crashed into him—hope, disbelief, fear.

For the first time, freedom didn't seem like an impossible dream. A future where he wasn't just a ghost in his parents' lives. A future where he could step outside without fearing death.

But hope was dangerous.

Hope was bait.

His grip tightened on the bedcovers, his long hair shifting as he raised his head. His bright yellow eyes locked onto Sebastian's.

"Let's say I believe you," Henry murmured, voice steadier. "Why me? We don't know each other. I haven't done anything to earn your kindness. So why are you helping me? What's in it for you?"

He wasn't naive. He had suffered too much to be gullible.

Sebastian's lips curled into a wider smile.

"Smart boy. I like smart people. Makes things easier in the long run."

His next words made Henry exhale, tension easing just slightly.

"Naturally, your treatment won't be free of charge."

Good.

Henry had learned long ago—free things cost the most.

As long as there was an exchange, as long as he could give something—then this wasn't just a cruel joke.

Then, maybe, this was real.

Henry bowed his head.

"P-please state your price… j-just not money, please. I-I've already taken so much from my parents, and they don't have much left. If you really want money, could I sign a contract? Swear to pay it back in my lifetime… o-once I'm healthy, I promise I'll start working."

Sebastian gave Henry a flat look. "I'm royalty. Do you think I need money—" He stopped mid-sentence, remembering his eldest son's latest stunts.

If the magic workshop didn't perform as well as expected… he might actually need money.

For a brief moment, Sebastian felt a strong urge to strangle Nozel again.

He didn't let it show, crossing his arms and clearing his throat.

"As I said, we're not after money."

Henry exhaled in relief, nodding with a nervous smile.

"T-then what are you after?"

Sebastian pointed at him. "Your help."

Henry blinked.

"Huh?"

Sebastian leaned against the doorframe. "Out in the Forsaken Realm, I have a friend with a condition like yours."

Henry froze.

Sebastian continued. "Unlike you, her condition isn't a curse. It's just… a strange constitution. She drains mana and magic from anything that comes close to her. She doesn't need to drain life to survive, though."

"That aside, she's just as pitiful as you. Forced to live in seclusion, away from society. I hope that by researching a cure for your curse—helping you—we can take a step forward in finding a fix for her illness."

Sebastian's eyes sharpened.

"My price is your full cooperation. You'll let us study you. You'll be our lab rat."

Henry blinked, stunned. "T-that's it…?"

Sebastian shrugged. "Might not seem like much to you, but for her—it's a new lease on life."

Henry's pupils dilated.

He had never once considered there could be someone out there suffering just like him.

All this time, he thought he was one of a kind. A freak. A failure.

He wanted to help that woman. He wanted to help anyone.

Yet doubt gnawed at him.

"A-are you really sure I can help?"

"Not just her," a new voice cut in. "But so many more."

Sebastian turned, clicking his tongue as Nathan stepped forward, standing in the doorway.

Nathan's eerie, gothic appearance should have been intimidating, but to Henry… it wasn't.

Somehow, out of the three, Nathan felt like the kindest.

Nathan met his gaze, voice steady.

"My family is famous for hexes and curses. For generations, we've ruined people. When I took over, I wanted to put an end to that. I started researching anti-curses—ways to turn curses into strengths, to heal instead of harm."

He exhaled.

"I finally had some success with Lord Silva's wife. But the method was too inefficient, too roundabout. I need more study. More practice.

And you, Henry—you could be the key.

My price is this: help me achieve my dream.

Because if we succeed—not only will that woman's life change, but one day… we could save countless cursed souls in this kingdom."

Henry's breath caught.

He swallowed. Then, swiftly—without hesitation—he nodded.

"I-I'll do it. P-please let me help!"

Nathan smiled. A warm, genuine smile.

"Wonderful. I have a son your age. One day, I'll bring him along—he struggles with socializing, just like his parents. I hope you two can get along. Maybe even become friends."

Henry's lips parted.

Friends? With me?

He had never once thought he could have friends.

Never once thought he deserved them.

His entire life, he had only ever taken—without giving anything in return.

That wasn't how friendship worked.

At least… not healthy ones.

His vision blurred. His throat tightened.

Lowering his head, Henry whispered, "I-I'll do my best. Thank you."

Nathan smiled and gave a wordless nod before stepping back.

Draven moved forward, reaching into his satchel once more. He pulled out two more crystals and casually tossed them to Henry, who instinctively absorbed them, draining their mana dry.

Draven watched, expression indifferent.

"That should help you get by for a little while," he said in an almost bored tone. "In the meantime, we'll find your parents and explain everything to them. Don't take my word for it, but if they've held on this long… I'd say they'd be willing to try again—if they have hope things can get better."

Henry's breath hitched. Water trickled down his cheeks as he nodded, a shaky smile forming.

"I-I hope so."

Sebastian sighed from behind, arms crossed.

As far as parents went, Henry's weren't the worst. They were far better than his own.

And yet… they had still nearly given up on him.

Sebastian wasn't sure if he could forgive that.

If he were in Henry's place, he didn't know if he'd even want to go back. Not after being abandoned.

A part of him wanted to tell Henry that once he was cured, he should live his life. For himself. Find his own path. Make his own friends. Build his own family.

That he didn't have to feel guilty or indebted.

That he wasn't a burden.

But Sebastian held his tongue.

Every child yearns for their parents' love.

And as far as noble society went, Henry's parents weren't monsters. They weren't completely undeserving of love returning to them.

Love could fade. It could die.

But sometimes… it could come back.

A healthy Henry—an independent Henry, one who no longer drained them, no longer forced them into exile—could reignite that love in full.

Even if it was tainted.

Even if it was never truly pure again.

But then, was love ever pure to begin with?

All love was built on some form of give and take. On expectations. On reciprocity.

If Henry still wanted that love, who was Sebastian to stand in his way?

To deny him that, just to keep things faithful to canon—or to soothe his own insecurities?

So he said nothing.

And a moment later, just as they had come, Draven opened a shadow gate—transporting the three of them away

—

Elsewhere

Dante and Zenon hovered over the boundless sea, far north of the Spade Kingdom.

No land in sight.

The water below churned, black and sickly, like it had been tainted by something vile.

A moment later, Lucifero's voice rumbled through their minds.

"Begin."

A shell of purple gravity encased them, and then—like a bullet—they shot downward, piercing through the ocean's surface.

The descent was rapid.

Light faded.

Darkness swallowed them as they sank deeper and deeper.

Aquatic magic beasts stirred in the abyss, darting away as soon as they sensed the intruders. Even the most fearsome predators of the deep recognized who the true monsters were.

The deeper they went, the worse it became.

Larger, more vicious creatures lurked in the gloom—nightmare-born horrors with jagged teeth and writhing tendrils. Their power was immense, their presence suffocating.

But the moment they felt Lucifero's mana seeping from Dante, their instincts took over.

They fled.

Eventually, Dante and Zenon reached the ocean floor—a vast, desolate expanse of shifting sediment and ancient wreckage.

They slowed, floating forward.

Searching.

Hunting.

Seeking.

Their target. 

Their destination.

—

Witch's Forest

Acier stood before the towering wooden gates of the hidden kingdom, arms crossed, posture relaxed.

Around her, the remains of countless golem sentries lay scattered—mud and stone cracked, limbs severed, bodies crumbling.

She barely looked like she had tried.

A breeze stirred, carrying the scent of damp earth and ancient magic, but Acier remained unfazed, a carefree smile playing on her lips.

"You have two choices," she said, voice calm, almost amused. "Let me in, or I raze your kingdom to the ground."

Not a second later, the doors creaked, then swung open with force, a gust of wind and a flurry of crows bursting out.

Acier's smile widened.

With an easy step forward, she crossed the threshold.

Behind her, the gates slammed shut.

—

Author's Notes:

[1] I might go on break starting Wednesday so I can study for my exam.

[2] Feel free to join the discord: https://discord.gg/s3MME8X8ar