🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter 95
Nightmares were an excellent tool for breaking down someone’s mental defenses.
The illusions kept showing trauma repeatedly, like repeatedly beating meat to tenderize it.
—Valer.
So, Valer was familiar with such nightmares, yet…
—Are you still dreaming?
Each time, it was new.
If it had been a different illusion, he would have ripped it apart mercilessly and escaped this place.
But the repeated appearance of a being that crushed his will to resist left him unable to summon any intention to fight back, no matter how aware he was that he was being toyed with.
The Sione in the nightmare was beautiful.
Just as she was in his memories.
—My dear little brother.
Her long platinum eyelashes drooped, her pink eyes tinged with the soft blush of spring, her graceful and delicate facial features, and her lips carrying a gentle smile.
“Is this how she grows up?”
She had always seemed so tall and dependable, but compared to his own suddenly grown hands, she appeared so small and fragile.
—You should get up, Valer. To inherit Halbern, you have to learn many things.
“Shouldn’t you be the one inheriting that?”
—That man would never allow it.
A faint laugh came.
It really was his sister—so beautiful, yet speaking with such fragile but fearless confidence.
A chuckle escaped him, turning into a bitter smile, and Valer closed his mouth, feeling like he might cry.
“I knew.”
The only person who could break him was his sister, so he knew only she would appear in this nightmare.
“Why does it not annoy me… but rather bring me pleasure?”
Was it because she allowed him to see her like this?
Was it because, instead of a half-broken illusion, it was a fully-fledged nightmare intending to consume him completely?
Yet…
“What on earth has changed?”
Was this a dream, an illusion, a nightmare, or reality?
Even when he closed his eyes or opened them, Valer, trapped by the past, often couldn’t distinguish reality.
Just like now.
“Don’t you dislike me?”
—I don’t.
“Don’t you resent me?”
—How could I resent you?
“But…”
If I weren’t here, you would have been free.
Valer knew his sister well.
Even without the name of Halbern, Sione was capable.
Had she successfully escaped, she would probably have survived well on her own.
Even his mother, bound and trapped by their father, could have been left behind and abandoned; his sister had the resolve to do so.
Even when an arranged marriage was decided, Sione could have fled.
“But it’s because of me.”
She couldn’t leave her younger brother behind.
She knew exactly what would happen to her sibling if she abandoned him. She knew he wouldn’t give up his only commoner friend.
Even one child could hinder an escape; two would make it impossible.
—It’s not your fault.
Yes, his sister would say that kindly.
—My poor, pitiable little brother.
Even this was likely the fantasy he wanted; not a shred of his sister’s true will was in it.
Yet he still felt comforted—and loathed himself for it…
The empty words of consolation were like sweet water after unbearable thirst, and he despised himself for not rejecting them.
—Valer.
—Live your life.
—Don’t be bound by anything.
But sister…
“How can I not be bound?”
It’s her.
He wished she would curse him instead, hate him, resent him, despise him.
“You always make me weak.”
The love she gave was so overwhelming, so heavy, that it left him feeling powerless, always reverting to the helpless child he had once been.
Time passed, he grew, and he could now do anything.
He even killed his father, who had seemed impossible to kill and barely human.
Killing a father who experimented on humans, oppressed with supernatural powers, and treated even his children like tools wasn’t difficult—but he couldn’t touch his sister, even if only in a fantasy.
With a flick of his hand, with his powers, he could make her disappear anytime if he wanted to escape—but he didn’t.
He wanted to stay in this dream forever.
“Sister.”
Whether he was going insane, losing his mind, or already insane… he couldn’t tell.
Ah, if he had truly gone mad, this would be interesting to see.
Even as he laughed, he couldn’t hide the despair that resembled resignation. Familiar frustration chewed him up and broke him again. It was so familiar that it no longer hurt.
“Sister…”
—…
“I should have taken you with me.”
—Then would you go?
A faint smile broke out as he grasped the white hand extended as if waiting for this moment.
Even knowing it wasn’t truly his sister, even knowing it was an illusion trying to devour him bone by bone…
He wanted to hold it.
He almost wanted to give in to the temptation.
It was a moment when he was swept away by such reckless impulse.
Zing—.
A faint melody resonated in the darkness.
“This is…”
A clear, pure sound he had never heard before. Every beautiful note carried an unfamiliar supernatural power.
The sweet music, washing away nightmares and evoking happy memories, instantly brought him back to reality.
His blurry eyes focused.
“Ah.”
What was he trying to do?
His life was no longer his own.
Trying to die at his own whim…
“Your child will one day make you die too.”
The curse left by his biological father.
There was only one person in this world who could judge him.
“Father!”
A title he had never called before resonated deep in his heart.
The melody, coming from afar, cleared the darkness and blurred the illusion. Light came through.
Like salvation.
“I won’t have such dreams anymore.”
The illusion of someone saving him was a childish dream of his early years.
After losing his sister, he became an adult who no longer sought salvation.
Did that mean he would become a savior himself?
No way.
It wouldn’t suit him, nor was it his calling.
But if it were her daughter…
“I must save her.”
Valer staggered to his feet.
The day he was first recognized as a father was overcast, not a good day.
“Play it.”
When Arelrin requested, Pession had no idea what would happen next.
What was he trying to do?
So…
Zing—.
When the violin string met the bow, the melody they created struck his very soul.
‘Beautiful.’
It was the first time he had ever been moved by sound.
Something sparkled before his eyes.
Of course, the brightest spark was Arelrin.
Even though he produced such a beautiful melody with his own hands, Arelrin’s expression was still pained and sorrowful.
A sweet, love-filled melody clashed with a troubled expression.
‘Why…’
Why wear such a troubled expression?
Unlike the royal family, Halbern had many secrets; one should not pry too deeply. But Pession had no self-control when it came to Arelrin.
He wanted to know everything—what she thought, what she liked, what she hated—down to her soul.
These raw emotions were neither pretty nor pure, so he instinctively suppressed them.
He tried to control himself, but…
‘Arelrin…’
Often, moments like this were difficult.
Even now, he could only see her.
Yet Arelrin’s gaze was elsewhere.
