"All this time, Cydal thought she was taking him to her place but the one who stepped out of the house was Beauty, the woman who raised him. And the last person Cydal ever wanted to see."
Now, it made sense, why she had stammered the whole walk, why her steps had slowed as they got closer. She wasn't nervous because she was guilty of something malicious. No. She was just a bad liar.
But her intentions weren't harmful. That's what stopped Cydal from lashing out. Randa hadn't done it to trick or trap him she only wanted to help. She thought she could fix something broken. Naive as it was, it was honest.
So, he let her speak.
"I'm sorry, Miss Beauty… Cydal…" she said, voice thin and cracking under pressure. "I shouldn't have acted without either of your permission, but… I saw how you two seemed to struggle with your relationship earlier today. I just couldn't watch it. I thought maybe if you both gave yourselves a chance to explain, all the doubts would clear."
Cydal didn't react.
Not a nod. Not a word. He didn't appreciate people making decisions for him. Especially ones who acted unpredictable, even if it was out of kindness.
But then a wild smile spread across Beauty's face the second she saw him. She squealed and threw her arms around him, wrapping him in a sudden, powerful hug that squeezed the air from his lungs.
"Ahhh, Cydear!" she cried, calling him by the name she used when he was small, "I never thought I'd see you come back home! And with a pretty girl no less!"
Her hands clung tightly to his back before she pulled away, grinning from ear to ear. She turned her gaze to Randa with mischievous glee.
"So, you went for a quiet, obedient girl, huh? I'd never imagine this boy's taste in women would be this simple and I raised him!" She chuckled heartily, giving Randa an exaggerated wink.
Randa, already nervous, turned a deep shade of red. Her lips parted, ready to deny whatever Beauty was thinking but Beauty kept talking, completely unfazed by the awkwardness she created.
"Oh! Not to say choosing a simple girl is a bad thing," Beauty added quickly, sensing Randa's horror. "Randa is the most brilliant and honest girl in my whole school. I'm very proud of Cydear's choices."
Randa's face was burning now. She opened her mouth again, this time determined to speak through her embarrassment.
"You've got it wrong," she said quickly. "I… I was just helping him find a place to stay. Since he didn't have anywhere to go, I thought…"
"Oh, is that so?" Beauty tilted her head, still not entirely convinced. "Well, get in already. Why are you two standing out there like you're some strangers?"
Before either of them could respond, she reached out with both arms, one around Randa's shoulder and the other around Cydal's. Her strength was not to be underestimated; she tugged them both inside effortlessly, ignoring any signs of resistance. The door slammed shut behind them with a familiar wooden thud.
The inside of Beauty's home had the same strange mix of charm and danger Cydal remembered from his childhood from the tree house she made for him. The small medieval house was cozy, lit by warm yellow lanterns that cast long shadows over the floor. But the walls… the walls were lined with the trophies of beasts.
Carved heads with frozen expressions. Furs that still carried the scent of the forest. Bones tied into runic patterns. Even the chairs had designs of monstrous jaws and claws.
It wasn't messy. In fact, the house was startlingly clean. Every item was polished, well-placed like a shrine to the creatures she had overcome.
But Cydal's eyes narrowed as he scanned the room.
These beasts… they weren't ordinary. He recognized some of them. Faint memories stirred of battles inside the System's twisted dungeons. Monsters that should've only existed in the cursed simulations of his mind. How could she have hunted these?
"She could be a player," Cydal thought grimly, lips tightening. "That's a possibility."
But it wasn't confirmed. Not yet. And even if she was, she wasn't acting like one. Beauty wasn't hiding anything, her joy was real, her pride in him sincere.
Some monsters from the dungeons were weak cowardly critters that fled into the wild after escaping the System's grip. So she must've hunted those given her powerful body.
Still… he remained cautious.
Randa was looking around too, though more with curiosity than dread. She didn't understand what these creatures really were. Not like Cydal did. Not like someone who had bled alongside their screams. She thought beauty was into strange statues.
Beauty clapped her hands together, eyes lighting up as if she'd just remembered something wonderful.
"You must've had a really rough day," she said, her voice thick with maternal warmth. "Why don't you take a bath first? I'll prepare it just how you liked it back when you were my handsome little devil."
She beamed at him, and before he could decline, she stepped toward him with purpose. There was no hesitation in her hands as she reached for his school coat. Principal Kashi had landed him, her fingers already tugging at the buttons like he was still that dirt-smudged boy from years ago, playing in the tree house and coming home scraped and giggling.
To her, he hadn't changed.
To her, he was still hers.
Cydal stepped back sharply, his shoulders tensing.
"I've already taken a bath before coming here," he said, his voice flat, colder than he intended.
Beauty paused, hands still in mid-air. For a brief moment, a flicker of something passed through her eyes. Maybe she was surprised, maybe she was hurt but it vanished behind her smile as quickly as it came.
"Oh, alright then!" she said with a chuckle, brushing her hands off on her apron like nothing happened. "Can't blame me for trying. You used to love my baths, rosemary oil and river stones, and the yellow duckies remember?"
Cydal didn't answer.
The silence that followed was mercifully broken by a low growl.
Randa clutched her stomach and laughed weakly. "Sorry… I haven't eaten anything since morning."
"Perfect!" Beauty exclaimed, turning to her with renewed excitement. "That's it, dinner it is!"
She looped an arm around Randa's shoulder, steering her toward the kitchen like a general leading a soldier.
"I was just about to cook for myself, but now I've got help and a reason to make a massive feast! We're celebrating, after all. I have to make sure both your tummies are full to the brim."
She turned back toward Cydal, pointing a finger at him as if scolding playfully. "You wait right here, Cydear. You're about to get all your favorite dishes, the ones you loved munching on. Just like old times."
Then she vanished into the kitchen, dragging Randa along with her. Cydal could still hear her voice, animated and cheerful, floating out with the clatter of pots and the rattle of spice jars.
The house fell into a strange silence without her, despite the distant hum of conversation in the other room.
Cydal stood still.
Something wasn't right.
That feeling, the crawling chill at the back of his neck had returned. It wasn't fear exactly. It was awareness. Like being on the edge of battle. His senses flared. He was alert.
It wasn't just a presence.
It was presences.
Plural.
More than one.
It didn't feel like they were watching from the outside. It felt like they were in the walls. The ceiling. Under the floor. Hidden just behind the edges of his vision.
He turned quickly, nothing. No movement. No noise. Although he had felt this cold feeling before ever since he returned to the town, like shadows were watching his every step.
The room hadn't changed, but it felt different now.
Beauty's laughter rang out from the kitchen, warm and sweet. Randa replied shyly, trying her best to match the energy. It all sounded so normal. So safe.
But something was off. He could feel it. Deep in his blood. And if there was one thing he'd learned living through the System's cruelty—
You never ignore that feeling.
The scent of herbs, roasted meat, and fresh bread filled the little house like a warm blanket. Soon after the kitchen had gone quiet, Beauty and Randa emerged with platters that seemed far too heavy for their arms. They set them on the low wooden table with care, steam rising in thick curls.
It was a feast.
Mashed potatoes, thick and creamy with dollops of spiced butter. A rich vegetable soup that smelled of slow-boiled marrow and forest herbs. Loaves of dense brown bread with shiny, crackled crusts. Spiced chicken, roasted to golden perfection. And then there was the meat, sliced, grilled, and glazed—laid out proudly at the center of the table.
Cydal's eyes fell on it immediately.
That meat.
Dark, soft-fibred, almost oily. Its scent wasn't chicken. Not a cow. Not any farmed animal. It was something else. Something he had tasted before.
He narrowed his eyes, saying nothing, but his stomach turned slightly.
It looked suspiciously like the cleaned flesh of a reptile, a very specific reptile.
The Reptile King.
A massive serpent monster that lurked deep in the dungeon caves, one of the apex predators spawned by the System. They weren't supposed to be here, not in the real world. But they sometimes escaped. Slithered into weak points in reality, especially around this time of year, when the veil between realms was thin.
And now, a piece of one sat roasted and seasoned on Beauty's table like a Sunday roast.
Randa, oblivious, had already begun stuffing her cheeks full.
"Mmm!!" she moaned between bites, eyes wide with wonder. "Miss Beauty, this is… insanely good. I swear, I've never tasted food like this in my life! Thank you—thank you—thank you!"
She bowed her head dramatically with every bite, her gratitude spilling out of her mouth as fast as the food did.
Beauty laughed, pleased. "You're very welcome, sweetheart. Eat up! I don't hold back when I cook for my family."
As much as Randa enjoyed the food Beauty had cooked, a question kept nagging at her.
"How did you even get all these dishes and ingredients? They're only made in the middle section and even then, most of it goes straight to the top. Hardly anything ever reaches us."
Beauty grinned, waving a hand like it was no big deal.
"Oh, that's easy. I went up to the top for a little trading. The merchants were very generous with a beautiful woman like me."
In truth, she had beaten the crap out of every trader in sight until she'd gathered enough food to feed an army. She didn't care if it was meant for the top section or scheduled to be shipped to other cities. She took what she wanted and no one stopped her.
Beauty had sat down beside Cydal, watching him with a mother's pride. Her voice turned soft with memory. "You know, he wasn't always this cold and serious, Randa."
Randa glanced up from her meal, cheeks puffed with mashed potatoes. "Huh?"
Beauty chuckled. "Oh, I mean it. Back when he was small and still mine, we used to hunt together in the woods. Just the two of us. Those were the start of the rough times, forests were drying out, animals were scarce. We were lucky to trap even a rabbit."
She grinned wide, nudging Cydal playfully. "And when we did catch one…"
Randa looked between them with curiosity.
"What happened?"
Beauty leaned back, mimicking a high-pitched, trembling voice. "'Nooo, I don't want to eat it! It's sad! It wants to go home!'"
She laughed, full and loud. "Cydear actually cried. The whole town called him a devil, and there he was, sobbing over a rabbit in a trap." She kept laughing even more on his innocence.
Cydal kept his eyes on his plate, jaw tight, but his already pink ears were now fully red.
"He begged me," Beauty went on, still laughing, "like I was a monster. 'Big Sis Beauty, can we please not hurt Mr. Rabbit? He's scared!'"
She nearly tipped over from laughing. "I thought my heart would burst. I mean, who cries over a rabbit when you haven't eaten in days?"
Randa's giggle slipped out before she could stop it. She covered her mouth, then smiled softly as she looked at Cydal.
"I think that's kind," she said gently. "Cydal must've had a really gentle soul. Not wanting to hurt something that didn't deserve it, that's beautiful."
Cydal glanced at her, expression unreadable. The heat in his face only deepened. He shifted in his seat, fork clinking against the plate like punctuation.
He didn't say a word. Just picked up a piece of bread and chewed it with exaggerated focus, pretending to ignore everything.
Beauty saw right through it, and that made her laugh even more.
Beauty had never smiled like this since she could remember. Not after that night.
But tonight, something changed. The way Cydal sat at the table like he belonged, the way Randa kept looking at him with awe while stuffing her face full of food like a child—it brought something back. Something she had buried.
She looked so happy, and Randa noticed. That smile didn't belong to someone broken. It belonged to someone full. And yet, the second the food was eaten and the laughter began to die down, the air shifted. The smiles faded, and silence began to stretch.
Randa felt the tension before the words came. She knew someone was going to break. It was too quiet, too full of unspoken weight. She didn't dare say a word.
Then Beauty finally spoke.
Her voice was soft. Unsteady. Like it came from a throat that hadn't allowed itself to speak the truth in years.
"Listen to me, Cydal…" she said. "I'm very sorry about what happened that night. No matter what I say, it won't be enough. But it's important… if I could just explain—"
But Cydal wasn't having it.
"You don't need to explain anything," he said coldly, cutting her off without even looking at her.
"I get it," he continued, eyes fixed forward. "You feel bad for abandoning me. But you don't have to. We were together for the first five years of my life. That's all. After that, I've been alone, and I've gotten used to it."
Beauty's lips parted, but no sound came out.
Cydal went on, merciless. "The town people had proof. They said I killed those orphans. Destroyed the home. It would've been suicide to be seen supporting me. You had every reason to keep your distance."
He leaned back, voice sharp as frost.
"In fact, you did the smart thing. Tactical. I would've done the same if I were in your place."
And just like that, he cut the cord between them. Cold. Brutal. No warmth. No emotion.
Like he'd decided long ago to never allow himself to care about her again.
Beauty's heart squeezed in her chest. She couldn't even breathe.
Because she remembered.
She remembered the truth.
That night was etched into her bones. Her hands trembled beneath the table, hidden from view. Her lips stayed shut, but her mind screamed.
That man.
He had come to the door calmly. A dark-skinned man, huge, towering like a mountain. His hair was like a wild golden mane like that of a lion, it flowed past his back in waves. His body was covered in strange tattoos that shimmered with something unnatural, ancient. His muscles were inhuman, arms like clubs, hands like claws.
He didn't knock. He just arrived.
Beauty had never seen anyone like him.
He came to ask for her hand in marriage. Wanted to "bless" her parents by uniting their families.
Her parents refused. Of course they did.
They were disgusted by his looks and from his lack of manners. They told him to get lost, slammed the door in his face like he was a troublesome delinquent from lardo's gang.
That was their mistake.
He kicked through the door like it was made of paper. The wood exploded inward, shards flying. He stepped inside like he owned the world.
Her father reached for his gun. Fired every bullet he had.
The bullets bounced off his skin.
Then came the sound. That sick, awful crunch when his massive hand wrapped around her father's skull and crushed it like an egg.
Blood was everywhere.
Her mother screamed.
He didn't even flinch. Just walked over and broke every bone in her arms, her legs, until her body couldn't even scream anymore. She gurgled, whimpered, then stopped moving entirely.
And Beauty?
She stood there.
The Man-Slayer. That was what they called her. Who had never been defeated by another man in her life couldn't even lift a finger. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't speak.
That man's aura was something beyond monstrous. He wasn't human.
She didn't cry. She couldn't. All of this happened so fast she couldn't even comprehend the whole situation she was in.
The man was smiling happily, even after killing her parents. Blood still fresh on the floor, he raised a single hand, and with a flick of his fingers, the shattered door reattached itself. It sealed shut with a quiet thud, as if nothing had happened.
No more interruptions. No more obstacles.
He turned to her.
He thought he had finally conquered her.
She was curled in the corner, trembling, her eyes wide with horror. And yet he approached her with softness, mocking softness.
"What's wrong, my bride?" he asked gently. "Why isn't my wife smiling? I got rid of everyone in our way. We're free now."
He moved closer, reaching to touch her cheek, to kiss her but she shoved him back with all the disgust she had left in her.
"Get away from me!" she snapped. "You're a disgusting monster! You just killed my family! I'll never forget this, I'll never forgive you! I hate you!"
That last word—HATE—did something to him.
His face twisted.
The smile vanished.
With a flash of rage, he slapped her hard. So hard it split her lip and sent her crashing into the opposite wall. Pain exploded across her face and ribs, but before she could recover, he was already on her again.
He grabbed her by the wrists and forced her down, his breath hot with madness. He was going to make her his, right there, covered in her parents' blood.
But then—
A knock.
The sound froze them both.
A child's voice, trembling and small, came from behind the door.
"Big Sis Beauty… please help me…"
It was Cydal.
He was just a little boy, crying outside. Begging. Pleading. A whole crowd of people seemed to run after him, they yelled and called him the devil and talked about how he had destroyed the orphanage.
She jolted toward the door, her instincts kicking in. But before she could even reach the handle, the man caught her by the wrist.
"Don't you dare," he growled into her ear. "If you open that door… if you let that little bitch in here and ruin my wedding night with you, I'll crush his bones. I'll smash his brains all over this house. Just like your father."
She froze.
Tears poured from her eyes. Her body shook with helplessness. And through her sobs, she forced herself to speak.
"I'm sorry, Cydal…" she said through the door. Her voice cracked. "Go away. I… I can't help you anymore…"
On the other side, little Cydal stopped crying.
And from that moment on, he would never forgive her.
He didn't know what had happened behind those walls.
He didn't know the monster she was trapped with.
And he never gave her a chance to explain.
Which is why now, years later when she sees him again, but he's all cold and distant, saying there's no debt between them, no bond, no love—It destroys her from the inside.
Because he doesn't even know.
And she's never been allowed to say it.
To be continued