Adopt 166

166

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‘…Mion.’

Someone called Leo by an unfamiliar name, gently caressing the child’s cheek with the back of their hand.

Leo, still drowsy with sleep, murmured vaguely.

‘That’s not my name.’

Yet, the warmth of the hand stroking his face seemed achingly familiar.

Leo even knew that the reason the person used the back of their hand was to keep the rough, callused palm from scratching his delicate skin.

‘En…on.’

‘My name is Leo.’

At the very moment Leo answered, a strange sense of guilt rising inside him without cause,

someone grasped both his shoulders tightly, whispering with desperate longing,

“Endymion, don’t look back. Just run straight ahead. I love you, my baby.”

As the scent of ashes brushed past his nose and the world dissolved into flames, Leo woke from the dream.

“……”

In the dark, only half-familiar now, the room in Valuaishten Castle revealed itself, outlines barely visible.

Leo slowly sat up, his back drenched in cold sweat.

Perhaps it was the unfamiliar bed.

Since coming to stay at Valuaishten Castle, Leo would often jolt awake at night as if being chased by something.

It was the unrest of his dreams.

Only, no matter how hard he tried, he could never remember what those dreams were about.

‘I don’t think it was a nightmare…’

Pondering in silence for a moment, Leo quietly slipped out of bed and opened the door leading to Belinda’s room.

He thought that seeing Belinda’s face would help calm his nerves.

But Belinda’s bed was empty.

Was it because of the dream he couldn’t recall?

Heart sinking, Leo opened the door to the hallway and peeked out.

This was the innermost room of the main castle.

Belinda hadn’t realized it, but this was the family suite, reserved for the direct descendants of the Grand Ducal line.

Thus, there were always attendants posted in the corridor, and ever since a demonic beast had been sighted in a nearby village, northern knights had patrolled the castle at intervals.

Yet, for some reason, that night the corridor was deserted and still.

“Lady Belinda, are you here?”

Leo’s small whisper echoed several times, trailing into the deep darkness at the end of the hallway.

With a sigh, he shut the door, about to return to bed.

Then, as if in answer to his echo, a sound arose at the far end of the corridor.

It was not a human reply, but more the presence of something.

A heavy thud pressing on the marble floor.

A sword’s point being dragged across the ground with a chilling, grating sound.

Leo could not see what awaited in the darkness.

But in that moment, goosebumps prickled his skin and he involuntarily recalled what had happened in the Siren Dungeon.

Back then, everything had been too unfamiliar for him to even react—but now he understood.

This spine-tingling sensation was the raw, unrefined force of murderous intent.

Leo acted swiftly, careful not to make a sound, leaving the door open as he slipped behind the thick blackout curtains in the room.

Soon, slow, heavy footsteps grew steadily closer.

At last, the sounds stopped right outside the door.

And then—

Creak.

With a tortured groan, the hinges twisted as if the door itself were being pried open to expose someone’s very heart.

“…!”

Leo clapped a hand over his mouth for fear his roughened breathing would betray him.

Thump. Thump.

The intruder’s footsteps entered the room, drawing nearer.

Between Leo and the intruder was nothing but a blackout curtain, thin as a handful of sunlight.

A voice, sharper than metal scraping on metal, yet thick and muffled, mumbled something in a language that could barely be called human.

“…O-nn-eu…”

The ghastly noise made Leo shut his eyes tight. The intruder’s hand reached slowly toward the curtain.

But at that moment, controlling his breath, Leo gently opened his eyes.

Velvet brushed his cheek; it was just the softness of the curtain.

Someone on the other side was gently stroking Leo’s face through the fabric.

The touch was so uncannily familiar that, without thinking, Leo reached out to draw the curtain back.

Whish—bang!

From the window behind him, a magical flare shot upward, splitting the dawn sky.

A commotion soon erupted through the castle.

Leo hurriedly threw aside the curtain.

But all that remained was his own shadow, cast long and lonely by the magical light.

Moments later, Belinda burst through the door.

She rushed toward Leo, who was standing dazed, and examined him anxiously.

“Leo, are you alright? Why is your face so pale, hmm?”

Swept with a strange, unexplainable feeling, Leo looked up at Belinda.

Once assured that Leo was unhurt, Belinda exchanged a few words with Caesar, who had appeared at the door.

Caesar politely closed the door and left at once, while Belinda led Leo to the couch and pressed a glass of water into his hand.

Only after wetting his parched throat did Leo begin to come to his senses and speak.

“There was… something here.”

“What?”

“It was in this room just a moment ago…”

The monstrous voice still echoed in his ears.

Not a human language, but the growling of some beast.

He couldn’t possibly know what it had said.

But a name sprang from his lips without thought:

“Endy…mion.”

Belinda leaned in, as if she couldn’t believe what she’d heard.

Leo, as if his soul was still trapped in his dream, murmured vaguely,

“I’m sure… it said Endymion.”

As Belinda reached for the glass in Leo’s hand, her strength failed her.

Crash.

The glass shattered with a loud clatter, but the castle was so roused by chaos, no one came running to the room.

“Leo, where did you hear that name?”

According to Caesar’s story, very few now remained in the castle who remembered that name.

All the others had died on the Night of Betrayal.

“That… thing said it to me,” Leo replied, in a voice utterly devoid of fear, gazing up at Belinda.

“It seemed… like a demonic beast. But not a bad one.”

Belinda could offer no reply.

All she could do was hold Leo tightly.

“It’s alright, Leo. Everything will be alright.”

Without rhyme or reason, she whispered this, biting her lip until blood welled.

At last, Belinda realized the cause of the thorn-like unease that had pricked at her.

She had always wondered:

The Barrier Forest was the first king’s final line of defense, built so no demonic beast could enter human lands.

So how could one now be roaming the northern territories?

Why, even after Caesar had slain hundreds of beasts without effect, had his eyes turned red now, after defeating just one?

The answer came to her in a line describing the Valuaishten family’s supernatural legacy:

[The curse of the demonic beast grows with every evil committed. The worst of all is committing a crime against one’s own kin.
Therefore, descendants of Valuaishten, never stain your hands with your family’s blood.]

At last, Belinda understood the secret Caesar had kept.

On the Night of Betrayal, it was not Caesar who destroyed his family.

‘It was Theodore Valuaishten. He, unable to withstand the curse, killed his kin and finally became a demonic beast.’

Understanding the tragic truth, Belinda calmly wiped the blood from her lips and turned a resolute gaze to the window.

There had to be a way she alone could help Caesar.

---

The vast green forest that stretched across the north had many names.

The one most familiar to northerners was the ‘Wandering Forest,’ since any who entered would be lost forever and become part of the forest’s sustenance.

So the forest devoured all living things, beast or human, without distinction—yet to those of royal and Valuaishten blood, it was gentle.

Thus was born the second name: ‘The Forest’s Guide,’ for the Valuaishten descendants were free from its enchantments and traps.

Caesar, for his part, had often felt an unexpected sense of comfort and freedom within the forest, thinking surely others must feel the same.

But, on the Night of Betrayal, he realized this had only ever been true for himself.

Theodore had been struggling for a long time.

From the day he’d rushed his coming-of-age ceremony to embrace his only brother, his soul had slowly been consumed by the curse.

At the forest’s edge,

Caesar, facing a demonic beast wounded by arrows, spoke the title he had long avoided.

“Brother.”

He wanted to think it was just a monster, but could not deny it.

What stood before him was his own flesh and blood.

So deep was this bond that even driving a sword into the back of his monstrous brother could not cleanse Caesar of the curse for months—before him, the creature was always Theodore, always his precious family.