Between Pain and The voice

Kael and Mousan entered their room.

Kael was limping, aching all over, and Mousan was filled with silent fear.

Kael gestured for him to sit. Mousan quietly sat on his bed, head lowered, avoiding his gaze.

Kael began to remove his blood-stained clothes.

"Ah… damn it," he muttered, groaning in pain.

But it wasn't only physical pain that plagued him. Since his fight with the three youths, those vile, unbearable whispers had started invading his head.

"Steal the bloodline… they're still weak… steal it now…"

They were distant yet countless, gnawing at his mind.

He had ignored them through the fight, battling not only his enemies, but also himself.

He knew one day he would have to steal bloodlines and kill many. But he had always wanted to do it on his own terms, not when voices commanded him. He wanted to believe otherwise, but the few weeks he'd spent in the middle layer had shown him it wasn't much better than the depths below.

In fact… it was worse.

To survive here, one had to sharpen their soul and fight for every right.

No one cared about the weak—especially a boy with no parents, no backing, no name.

Maybe Silvana was trying to support him.

But Kael knew… even she had her motives.

The moment he slipped, she'd throw him away like a stained cloth.

The cruelty he showed earlier—torturing the boys—was never his nature.

It was all an act.

Even during the act, he'd hesitated.

But the choice had been clear: him or them.

He stood in front of the mirror, bare-chested, looking at his reflection with a forced, bitter smile.

Then a thought entered his mind—a life he had never known:

"What if I had parents? Maybe a little sister? Maybe we lived in a quiet village, fishing by the river, tending to a farm.

Me and my father, working all day, then coming home to my mother and sister waiting for dinner. Sometimes we'd argue, yell… maybe I'd marry a simple, beautiful woman, and we'd have children—her eyes, my nose.

And one day my little sister would get married, and our parents would cry that night… damn, that would've been a sad night."

His head throbbed violently, the whispers biting harder.

He opened the closet, grabbed some clothes, and dressed slowly, wincing from pain.

Apparently, his theory about the black blood was wrong—his body hadn't healed like last time.

He was too tired to think, and the whispers wouldn't let him even if he tried.

Still standing before the mirror, he said quietly:

"Mousan."

Mousan raised his head slightly. He looked at Kael's back, still overwhelmed with fear.

"Yes?"

Kael exhaled.

"I know what you did. It was obvious… but I guess I was too angry to see it. You returned after only a few minutes, unlike the others still hanging there."

Mousan froze. He understood. This was the end.

Kael would break him… just like the others.

"But don't worry," Kael continued calmly.

"I don't really care about what you did. I know you were looking for a way out of all that suffering, and you found me—an opportunity.

"But tell me… If they'd accepted to trade me for you, don't you think I would've gone through the same hell?

Or maybe… you just didn't care, as long as you were safe?"

Mousan stayed quiet, then replied with guilt:

"I… I don't know."

Kael's tone was steady.

"You know. But I want you to say it."

Long silence.

Then finally, with a bitter taste in his mouth, Mousan said:

"I didn't care… as long as I was safe."

Kael remained still, staring at the mirror. Then, slowly… he smiled.

"Well said."

Mousan blinked in surprise.

Kael sighed and sat beside him.

"I'm not the one who should be giving lectures. I haven't lived among people much.

I was born in the lower layer, lived there all my life. Only came out a few weeks ago. I don't understand this world yet… but I did understand one thing: No one cares.

Everyone just wants to protect themselves.

So yes, you did the right thing.

But instead of dragging someone else into your misery… Why not pull yourself out of it?

Because the moment you stay silent about your oppression… You'll stay oppressed for the rest of your life."

Mousan looked at him with wide eyes.

This wasn't the demon he had seen before.

"Now come on… my body's killing me. Take the top bunk—I'll rest a little."

Mousan didn't reply.

He stood up quietly and climbed to his bed, lying down, lost in thought.

"Oh, and Mousan—

Do you know where I can get a new training uniform?

As you can see… mine's in ruins, haha."

Moussan replied absentmindedly:

"You can request one from the academy…"

"Thanks," Kael said with a smile.