CHAPTER 308: CHAPTER 307 - “...I WANT TO HAVE YOUR KIDS.”

Somewhere unknown.

There was a small patch of grassland, surrounded by forest on all sides. It was a quiet place, except for the noise made by the insects.

What stood out most, however, was that in the heart of a secluded grassland, stood a lone hut—crooked and small, as though it had been built only to hide something, not to house anyone.

Inside, two bodies lay motionless on wooden cots. Still. Breathless.

For a long time, the room was nothing but silence.

Until one pair of eyes opened.

A faint glow flickered in the gloom, violet bleeding into the air as the body stirred.

His chest rose in a shallow, disbelieving breath.

Slowly, he looked down at his hands, flexing them as if he expected them to vanish at any second. His gaze swept to his body, whole and unscarred, then to the other still figure beside him.

A bitter smile touched his lips. "...I still live."

The words felt heavier than they should, like a confession dragged from a dying man.

It was Zephyr, who had again found himself alive, wondering how many times this would go on.

For a while, he let the silence hang, then exhaled sharply, his eyes narrowing at the other cot.

The moment he looked at that body and his own, only one name crossed his mind.

Vorun.

There was no one other than him who could’ve done this, but the problem was that there were two bodies.

Two bodies here meant two chances: his and the doctor’s.

He had already died once, yet now he was alive.

Maybe this is all because of the cautious mind of Vorun, but he had prepared another pair of bodies.

Now, the next problem was that the doctor might also be revived.

That thought alone made Zephyr clench his jaw because he knew that Vorun would’ve done something to this body as well.

Before doubt could root itself, he lunged. His fist came down like a hammer, straight into the skull of the body on the cot.

The impact was catastrophic. The floor ruptured beneath his blow, the hut shattering outward in a storm of splinters and dust.

The earth cracked open, a crater swallowing what had once been walls. When the smoke cleared, nothing remained of the second body—nothing but a smear of blood, scattered bone, and silence.

Zephyr’s eyes widened as he stood there, staring at his own hands, unable to believe he was able to exert so much force.

"This is when I’m not even a plate one," he muttered in shock.

But then, he noticed something, and his blood ran cold.

The body he had punched into a bloody paste was mending at an alarming rate.

Piece by piece, flesh knitting over marrow, skin blooming anew where he had obliterated it.

Within moments, it was whole again, pristine, as if his attack had been nothing but a dream.

"...Impossible." His voice was a hoarse whisper. His hand trembled as he clutched at his temple. "I destroyed you. You were gone."

But the body only lay there, silent, mockingly perfect.

Zephyr stared at it for a long time, the panic ebbing, replaced by a gnawing emptiness.

Slowly, he sat down beside the cot, elbows braced against his knees, eyes locked on the unmoving chest of the one who might soon breathe again.

He waited.

A thousand thoughts clawed for space in his skull, but one lodged deeper than the rest—an intrusive, quiet question, ’If Raven could kill the soul itself... how could Vorun return at all?’

The thought unsettled him more than the regenerating body. But it also brought him a strange calm. Maybe Raven had already ended it. Maybe this husk was nothing more than a puppet with no strings.

Still, Zephyr did not leave. He didn’t know where to go. Didn’t know what to do. His old ambitions had died with him—twice.

He no longer wanted thrones, nor power, nor revenge. Those things seemed laughably hollow now.

"I don’t even know what I want anymore," he muttered to the corpse beside him. His words carried no venom, only weariness.

The wind moved through the forest. The body lay still.

As for Zephyr, who was stripped of pride and fury, he merely sat there. Waiting.

He didn’t know that Vorun was never returning and that his body, along with his soul, had turned into nothingness.

Raven hadn’t even let a particle of ash be left behind because he knew how dangerous that madman was.

So, right now, the chamber that had once echoed with Vorun’s deranged laughter felt hollow. Silent.

When Raven had said that he was going to kill Vorun, who had gone silent from all of Siris’s torture, losing the will to live, the madman suddenly tried to run away.

That had made Siris freeze everything in the surroundings before Raven killed the man.

Where the doctor’s body had been, there was nothing—not even ash. Raven had made sure of that.

The only thing left to remind one of what had gone down was the chill one would feel in the laboratory.

Right now, Raven sat on a throne of earth he had shaped from the broken floor, his posture relaxed but his eyes still hard, crimson glow fading slowly.

Across his lap rested Siris, quiet for once, her daggers discarded at her side.

Her fingers traced circles lazily on his chest, the motion uncharacteristically soft, like she was testing whether he was real.

The silence between them stretched, heavy yet strangely peaceful.

Finally, Siris spoke, her voice low, almost uncertain.

"...It’s strange."

Raven tilted his head slightly, watching the top of her silver hair as she leaned against him. "What’s strange?"

"I thought it would feel... better. Torturing him. Making him scream." She smirked faintly, though her tone lacked its usual bite. "I tried everything. I froze him from the inside, shattered him piece by piece. Well, it was... fun for sure. New techniques, new sounds..."

Her smile faltered, the amusement slipping away. She lifted her eyes, meeting Raven’s. "But it doesn’t feel like I thought it would. Not really."

Raven didn’t interrupt. He only brushed a strand of hair from her face, waiting.

Siris exhaled, her voice softening, edged with something raw. "I realize now... it wasn’t about him. It never was. I didn’t care about the doctor. Not truly. The only reason I enjoyed it was because I knew what kind of man he was—and because he would’ve hurt you. He would’ve hurt those close to you."

Her hand pressed flat against his chest, over his heart. "That’s all it’s ever been for me. If someone goes against you or anyone I care about... then yes, I’ll break them. Slowly, if I can."

A shadow of her grin flickered back, sharp and unrepentant. "But if they don’t... I don’t care. They don’t matter."

Raven’s lips curved in a faint smile. "So what do you care about?"

For the first time, Siris’s pale cheeks flushed.

She looked away quickly, burying her face into his chest as if ashamed of the warmth spreading across her expression. Her voice dropped to a whisper, trembling slightly.

"...You. Just you. I only want to stay like this. With you."

She hesitated, her breath catching, then forced the words out, quiet and hurried, like secrets slipping free before she could stop them.

"And... in the distant future, when we’re strong enough that no one can touch us... I want..."

She bit her lip hard, her ears reddening. "...I want to have your kids."

Raven blinked, caught off guard.

Of all the things he expected from Siris—the girl who stabbed first and smiled while drenched in blood—this was not one of them.

She peeked up at him, clearly bracing for mockery. But Raven only laughed softly, his hand sliding into her hair.

"You’d make a terrifying mother," he teased gently.

Her blush deepened, but she smirked anyway, her eyes gleaming. "Good. Then they’ll turn out strong."

Raven chuckled again, the sound easing the last of the chamber’s weight. He leaned back against his makeshift throne, Siris clinging to him as though she never intended to let go.

For a rare, fleeting moment, there was no blood, no battle, no looming shadow of gods or monsters—only the quiet warmth of a girl who had found her reason to stay.

The darkness around them lingered, but within that throne of earth, Raven allowed himself to breathe.

However, both Raven and Siris had forgotten something.

There were more people in this laboratory.

They were the people who were brought here as test subjects for Vorun. They were still locked up in the cage, and although they could be saved by Raven and Siris if they called them out, they were unsure if they should.

After all, in their eyes, one of them was a sadistic torturer, and the other was a killer who didn’t even blink while decapitating his older brother.

There was a huge misunderstanding, but... Well, time will solve everything.