Kayden's fingers were broken, his face covered in blood, and his hands were bleeding from the constant friction against the cold iron.
In the corner, Alster sat in silence, watching the young man with an unusual patience. He remained there until everyone else had left, leaving the two of them alone.
At last, he rose and approached slowly. He knelt beside Kayden and began wrapping an old piece of cloth around his twisted fingers, doing his best to stabilize the fractures and tend to his injuries.
Kayden raised his exhausted eyes to him and whispered hoarsely, "…Why?"
Alster did not answer. Instead, he suddenly asked, "What is your full name?"
He already knew the answer.
"Kayden… Bryce."
Alster's hands stopped moving. They went limp for a moment before he whispered, "Kayden Arthur Bryce… And what about Michael? Where is he now?"
Kayden merely shook his head, refusing to speak.
In heavy silence, Alster grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out of the room. Kayden's steps were sluggish, and whenever he slowed down, Alster pulled him along by force, showing little mercy.
Suddenly, loud laughter pierced the corridor. A sharp, feminine voice echoed through the passage, and Kayden felt an inexplicable sense of familiarity. Both of them stopped. Even Kayden's eyes widened in surprise as he lifted his head, searching for the source.
"Hazel!" He uttered her name as though his heart had leaped out of his chest. "Look at yourself!" Kayden laughed mockingly.
She was chained just like him, but her condition was nowhere near as bad. Her face was pale, and her body was covered in bruises. Yet she laughed as she stared at him with sparkling eyes.
"Look at yourself! You were handsome just yesterday. My God, look at the state of you!" Hazel laughed at him in return. "Talk about bad luck!"
"I'm handsome under any circumstances… Aren't I?"
Hazel burst into laughter again, her eyes gleaming with delightful mockery. "That's right, handsome. Actually… your bruised face looks even better."
But his smile faded when he heard Alster's dry voice behind him.
"Didn't I tell you that you look better when you're beaten?"
He shoved Kayden forward, forcing him to keep walking. Kayden resisted for a moment, and suddenly his body convulsed before he collapsed to the floor. The collar around his neck shocked him with a painful current, leaving him struggling to breathe.
Alster quickly raised his hands. "It works on its own… whenever you resist!"
With considerable difficulty, Kayden managed to stand again. His face was pale, and sweat streamed down his skin. Yet, against all expectations, he whispered in a surprisingly steady voice, "I will never enter the church again."
Alster slowly shook his head. His voice was low, as though he were acknowledging an unchangeable truth.
"That… is good."
Alster led Kayden into another room, one bathed in brighter light than the previous one, and made him sit on a cold chair once more.
The atmosphere was almost unbearable, and silence enveloped them until Alster suddenly broke it.
"That girl… will be transferred to a mental institution."
Kayden offered no comment, letting the words fall into the empty space between them. He remained still for a long time, until what felt like an eternity had passed. Then, he slowly raised his head and whispered in an exhausted voice, "Why did you ask me about Uncle Michael?"
He looked Alster directly in the eyes, adding as though testing his reaction, "Uncle Michael… went on a hunting trip at the beginning of this year. He'll be back soon. He's currently in Nerath…"
"What is your full name?" Kayden asked, curiosity barely concealed in his voice.
Alster smiled faintly. "My name?" he repeated indifferently. "If I told you now, it might spoil the fun. So, I won't tell you."
At that moment, Enzo burst into the room with hurried steps. He approached Alster and whispered a few brief, tense words into his ear.
Alster immediately rose and motioned for Kayden to follow before grabbing his hand and pulling him along once more.
"It's only been three and a half hours since we took you away. This is ridiculous."
On the upper floor of the church
Light filtered through the stained-glass windows, casting colorful patterns across the stone floor. Isabelle arrived with her son, Henry. The sounds of prayer echoed faintly in the background, while the gentle scent of incense lingered in the air.
Colton stood by the entrance for a long moment, lost in thought, his inner turmoil plainly visible on his face.
He followed Isabelle inside with slow, heavy steps, each one seeming to drain a little more of his resolve. In a world where he had been born an outcast and forcibly isolated, he had been told that merely entering God's house would cause him to burn. He might die and vanish as though he were nothing at all.
And yet, here he stood, inside this sacred place, surrounded by dim light and the lingering scent of incense.
Isabelle turned toward him, the gentleness in her expression accompanied by an underlying strength in her voice.
"Nothing will happen. And if something does, I'll treat you myself, Colton. You're special and strong, didn't I tell you? You're incredibly special."
She then moved closer, noticing how intently he was studying his surroundings. Calmly, she took him by the hand, led him farther inside, and seated him in the front row beside Henry.
"It's all right, isn't it?" she asked with a gentle smile, trying to reassure him.
Colton slowly shook his head. "No, there's no problem. I'm fine."
His words were brief, but the uneasiness in his eyes betrayed him.
They sat together until the church officials arrived. Father Sergei approached them with a formal smile.
"Lady Isabelle, have you come here to pray? Isn't there a church closer to your home?" he asked in an almost overly refined tone.
Isabelle replied with measured calmness. "I'm not here to pray. I've come to reclaim something I lost. That's all."
Surprise crossed Father Sergei's face before he burst into laughter.
"Since when has Isabelle Sylvester ever lost anything? I refuse to believe it! Perhaps you took your medication incorrectly!" he joked, gesturing incredulously with his hand.
Isabelle let out a soft laugh. "You see? I really have lost something terribly important. And now, where is he? You know I'm talking about Kayden."
The laughter faded from Father Sergei's face. When he finally found his voice, he replied with unmistakable bewilderment, "I don't know where he is."
He was about to continue when Isabelle interrupted him with a sharp tone.
"Has lying inside the church become a common practice now? Forget it." Isabelle spoke with deliberate calm.
Sergei looked even more astonished. "Lying?" he repeated, as though the very idea were entirely foreign to him.
Isabelle waved her hand dismissively. "How dare you lie to my face?"
Sergei laughed carelessly.
"Are you a goddess or something? I don't know where your son is. Isn't Chase responsible for him? Or have you stopped favoring him?"
Isabelle stared at him, her voice growing colder and more resolute.
"I'm not a god, but I am someone who has been granted a blessing. And that's not all. Your daughter is with me. As they say, an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, and a head for a head."
She continued calmly, her words laced with both mockery and menace, watching Sergei's expression carefully as it began to crumble.
"But here, you won't be able to touch my son's head, because your daughter is already in my possession. I could kill her with a single move. Just imagine how the church would react if it learned that you had a daughter. I've noticed she's quite beautiful, too. I wonder what her mother looks like?"
Isabelle gestured toward the priest's face with a hint of cruelty.
"She's beautiful. She doesn't look like you at all, so I suppose her mother must have been beautiful."
Sergei struggled to maintain his smile. "Can't I joke with you a little, Isabelle? You're still as sharp-tongued as ever," he said with obvious difficulty.
"No, you can't simply do that. I'm a married woman. I don't casually joke around with men."
Henry watched the exchange, his eyes following his mother as she spoke with the authority of someone capable of ruling an entire country if she wished. Eventually, he could no longer suppress his question.
"Has the joking session ended? My brother is here, and he hasn't committed a crime, so please hurry up."
Sergei glanced at Henry and sighed, his expression mixing boredom with astonishment.
"You're an incredibly difficult family to deal with."
He then turned his attention to Colton and asked in surprise, "And who is this?"
"He's a relative of mine," Isabelle replied calmly.
"The Sylvester family?" Sergei repeated, looking even more bewildered.
Isabelle shook her head as though the question deserved nothing but mockery.
"Yes, he's part of my family. Wait a moment, do you have a problem with that? And if you do… why would you even have a problem in the first place?"
Sergei laughed awkwardly before turning away and sitting down, pretending to be friendly.
"Of course my wife is beautiful. As you know, I have a particular taste. Arthur was simply a lucky man."
Henry turned toward him, but Isabelle quickly interrupted, a defiant glint flashing in her eyes.
"You're not my type. I have high standards. But your daughter is beautiful. Colton, are you good at taxidermy?"
Colton answered with surprising simplicity, "I can learn."
Sergei smoothly changed the subject.
"Your son is here, but what about the reports?"
His tone was full of certainty.
"He resembles Arthur, but let me tell you something, George. He's cursed… He resembles Arthur when he was a great fighter, before he got married and settled down. But George will never settle down. He's tainted… terribly tainted. You should pay a little more attention to his condition."
Sergei sighed, his expression turning disdainful.
"I can sense George's aura from here. It reeks."
Isabelle did not respond immediately. She remained silent for a moment, as though the words were slowly taking shape inside her.
She had known from the beginning that her son was unstable and that he posed a threat. She had accepted this with a measure of sadness, a feeling that passed through her like delicate threads before gradually fading away.
She understood that her children could not simply be taken from her without a fight. Each of them had made mistakes, but she had never pronounced a final judgment on them. Instead, she had left them to learn their lessons from time itself.
Nevertheless, as her children grew older, her heart filled with an increasing mixture of pride and quiet joy.
Henry broke the silence with an impatient tone that sounded almost like an order.
"That's his aura, not yours. It's his problem, not yours. He's George, and you're not him. Don't meddle in matters that don't concern you, and don't act like a clergyman now."
He then pointed at Sergei.
"You've violated the rules. Shouldn't the church expel you?"
"Is it true that twins can feel each other's pain?" Sergei asked curiously, keeping his gaze fixed on Henry.
Henry did not answer immediately. He merely glanced sideways before sighing.
"You're supposed to know everything. I won't answer that… May God bless you."
Sergei's expression stiffened, and his voice grew more malicious.
"You're annoying, but the reports have already been filed."
He added, leaving them with a bitter possibility to consider, "Perhaps they've already strapped your brother to a chair and started torturing him."
Isabelle slowly raised her head and looked toward Sergei.
"I don't think I made myself clear enough."
Sergei quickly interrupted her.
"The torture has been temporarily suspended."
Moments later, two figures suddenly materialized out of nowhere, their shadowy forms transforming into human bodies.
Sergei turned toward them in barely concealed astonishment. George hurried to his feet and stormed out of the church, visibly irritated, while Ayrton remained standing for a moment, as though reality itself had slipped beyond his grasp.
George's abilities are incredibly annoying. I don't understand them at all.
Ayrton closed his eyes, trying to calm himself, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not find any peace.
A short while later, the letter reached Father Sergei's hands. He opened it slowly and read its contents in silence.
George then rushed back inside, prompting Sergei to ask sharply, "Did you force him?"
George calmly shook his head.
"I didn't. That would be disgraceful. I have a witness."
He pointed toward Ayrton.
Ayrton raised his head and confirmed firmly, "Everything happened by mutual agreement. There was absolutely no coercion."
Sergei studied Ayrton's features for a long moment, trying to determine whether he was telling the truth. Then he turned toward one of the people present and issued a stern command.
"Bring him here."
George cast a quick glance toward Colton, whose eyes were still occupied with observing the people inside the church. He then hurried over to him and asked directly, "Do you like the church?"
Colton thought for a moment before slowly shaking his head, his eyes showing no hesitation.
"No… It doesn't suit me."