CHAPTER 376: PAST-2

When Xion saw him, he was drenched in blood.

At just 150 years old, Xion had only a basic understanding of humans and their ways. The complexities of their lives, their politics, and their strange hierarchies were all foreign to him.

He had heard, vaguely, that there were rulers, people who acted like small gods in these lands, wielding power over others simply because of their birth.

But Xion had never bothered to learn more.

Myrthia, his mother, and even his reluctant guardian, Mr. Cat, had often scolded him for ignoring lessons about the human realm.

They insisted he needed to understand it if he was ever going to walk among mortals.

But such topics were stuffy. Boring even. And far too complicated for someone as curious and fluttery as he was.

In his eyes, rulers were like his mother. They were kind, gentle, and did things for the betterment of all.

So when he saw the young man standing alone in the rose garden, blood dripping from his sword, Xion simply thought he had interrupted a ritual.

Silver hair like liquid moonlight, eyes as green as deep shades of his mother’s favorite gown.

A pretty human, Xion mused to himself.

The still body at the young man’s feet looked peaceful, like humans did when they slept. As for the one standing next to it...

The pretty human looked... lonely. And terribly, terribly bleak.

Before he knew, he had already taken a step forward.

The green eyes snapped in his direction, but there wasn’t the slightest ripple in them.

"Who?"

With a smile, Xion replied, "I am me. And you?"

The person didn’t answer, just coldly looked at him. Then, with a careless flick of his wrist, he tossed the sword right at Xion’s feet.

Death was something that eluded Xion.

Even as angels, they were created by the gods, and when they fulfilled their roles, they vanished and assimilated into the vastness of the universe.

Xion’s eyes roved over the sword, then to the crimson staining the blades of the grass under the limbs twisted at some strange angle, and then to the owner of those hollow, blank green eyes...

"Who are you, pretty human?"

Blue wide eyes blinked as they zoomed in on the small tilt of the lips.

Though the smile was strange, with his brain up in the air, he couldn’t figure out exactly how this was different than his smile.

But smiling meant the person was happy. Happy meant good.

So, he beamed the brightest grin he could muster. "I like you!" he declared loudly.

"You don’t even know my name."

A cold voice made his entire body tingle. Whether it was fear or thrill, Xion had no clue.

"Do you have to know someone’s name to like them?" Xion tilted his head, his soft hair tumbling to the side, nearly covering his one eye. "Tell me, then."

Wouldn’t the problem be solved if he knew the name of this pretty human?

"Darius," the silver-haired man looked down at little Xion and enunciated word by word. "Darius Rael Darkhelm."

"Darish Rail Da... Da... cum? What a strange name you have."

It was hard to even say it in one breath. "My name is better. Xion."

Darius raised his eyebrow and finally deigned to take a proper look at this little thing that trespassed on his property.

The kid was small, barely able to reach his knee. It was hard to see the hair color due to the dimness, but they were definitely dark.

However, what caught his attention were those blue eyes. The innocence shining in them somehow irked him.

"You talk a lot," Darius said, voice clipped.

Xion didn’t notice the disdain. Or perhaps he did, and didn’t know what to make of it.

He just kept smiling. "I like talking. Mother says talking solves everything."

Darius’ eyes flicked toward the garden gate, then back to the child.

The kid wasn’t just lost, he was stupid enough not to even realize it.

What an idiot.

"Go home," Darius said flatly. "Wherever that is."

"I don’t have one yet," Xion replied merrily. "I mean, I have, but not here. I actually came to explore and see..."

Darius didn’t bother listening to the rambling anymore. Sparing the life of this witness was his greatest leniency for the kid.

Stepping over the body, he walked through the main doors, and vanished into the depths of his mansion — leaving the blood, the moonlight, and the small, clueless trespasser behind.

As for the corpse... someone would come to clean it.

For a moment, Xion stayed there staring at the open doors.

The night was utterly quiet now, save for the soft coo of nightbirds and the wind rustling through the bushes.

He tilted his head thoughtfully before following behind the pretty human.

The hallway beyond the garden doors was warm, filled with soft candlelight and the scent of burning wood.

The marble floors gleamed beneath his feet, and golden patterns curled up the walls like vines.

Everything was decorated, cold, and strangely lonely.

Xion wandered in without any care. His wide eyes trailed along carvings on the walls.

The slight echo of footsteps brought him to a grand sitting room where the man... Darish Rail Da..cum was it? — was seated by a fire, slowly removing his gloves.

Neither asked permission. Neither gave it.

Instead of mannerisms, Xion’s attention immediately latched onto a porcelain vase near the fireplace.

It was beautiful, taller than he was, painted with little birds flying across a pale sky.

He padded over to it and reached out, tapping the side with one small knuckle.

Clink.

A delighted giggle escaped him. Amused, he tapped again.

The third tap did it.

Crack—crash!

The vase teetered and collapsed with a resonant shatter, spraying shards across the marble floor. One piece skidded over the cold floor and came to rest right at the foot of Darius’ chair.

The Archduke didn’t even flinch.

He simply stared at the fragment, then slowly raised his bottomless eyes to meet the boy’s panicked, wide ones.

Tiny wings would have puffed in alarm if not for the concealment spell.

Xion’s mouth rounded in a soft "Ah."

He did it again. He broke the second thing since he had come to the mortal world.

Hastily, he scrambled toward the table, tugging at the flap of his sling pouch.

Perfectly round, shining golden coins spilled from his hands as he dumped them onto the table in three clumsy handfuls.

"Sorry! Sorry! Is this enough?" he chirped, panicked. "I really didn’t mean to break it."

A golden pile began to grow, glinting in the firelight.

Still, Darius said nothing.

A sudden movement behind them nearly startled Xion more than the crash itself. A few coins tumbled down, clinking on the floor.

The noise made Darius’ jaw tick.

A woman with red hair tied in a neat bun stared at him with equally red eyes.

Her face paled, and the tray in her hand shook.

Xion, on the other hand, thought of her being similar to Myrthia and waved brightly.

However, she nearly dropped the food down.

Noticing Nazia, Darius finally moved.

Slowly, as if fighting some kind of mental war, he leaned back, resting his face on the back of his knuckle.

His eyes slithered around the boy like a snake trying to slip into his soul.

"You followed me inside."

Xion nodded brightly. "Yes! You forgot to tell me more about you."

"I told you to go home."

"I don’t have one here yet," Xion said again, as if Darius hadn’t understood the first time. "And... You didn’t say I couldn’t come in."

Nazia flinched. The logic of a child was innocent, yes, but dangerously close to defiance as well.

Darius tapped his finger on the armrest.

The child wasn’t afraid of him. Not even a little.

It was genuine innocence — like a deer walking into a wolf’s den with a flower in its mouth. It irked him more than ever.

"I can have you thrown out," his tone was too calm.

"You’re mad?" Xion asked.

"No," Darius denied. Why would he be mad at a mere child?

"But I could be." Because he hated noise and the things that created it.

This child was the embodiment of it.

Xion pouted, reaching into his pouch again. He dumped two more handfuls of gold onto the table.

The pile was starting to become a tiny hill.

Still, Darius did not respond.

If he was stubborn, Xion was even more so.

The little angel huffed, his cheeks puffing out like a squirrel. "You need to forgive me right now," he declared like an overlord.

Nazia nearly gasped aloud. He demands?

A faint ripple flickered through the dullness in his green eyes.

"What if I don’t?" Darius looked amused. "What if I kill you?"

Xion blinked at him, and then blinked some more as if digesting the words.

After a second, he walked over to the large armchair and began climbing it.

It was indeed a very hard task for his little arms to pull off. Yet he persisted.

Eventually, he flopped himself up on the chair beside Darius.

Then, with all the love he reached out and patted the silver hair.

"There, there. Mother..er... this Brother will bring a new one for you. Now you can’t be mad."

Nazia sucked in a cold breath.

Darius, on the other hand, stayed still as if frozen.

Just when Nazia was considering hiding the child away for his personal safety, the Archduke laughed.