Edited by: bafflinghaze
The birth of the Rhine Empire began with a child burdened by a great destiny, and two others who swore their allegiance to protect the child.
When the dust had settled and the Empire was formed, the Dyad Ducal System was put into place to achieve the perfect balance of government.
The chosen leaders for the Dyad Ducals were old, their bloodlines having survived the Black Void and the Great Uprising.
They were resilient and fought on the frontlines of every major conflict in history.
No other family knew more of what it meant to be a Noble than the Odums and Elysiums.
To honor the loyalty given by their first ancestors, the first Emperor demanded the governing body be split in two.
The Odums led the Imperial Faction, and the Elysiums steered the ship for the Aristocracy. As for the Imperial Family, they were a symbol of neutrality and balanced the two factions, allowing neither to have too much power in the courts.
Power… balance… one would think, with all the political games, that the two families would be at each other’s throats.
It was a common misconception that the Odums and Elysiums harbored hatred for one another.
The two families were on opposing sides in bureaucratic decision-making, but they were also colleagues forced to share an office for several generations and made to suffer through centuries of political bullshit.
The factions could hem and haw at each other all day in court, but by the end of the day, they would all see each other in their joint offices, pulling an all-nighter for their life choices.
Getting your policy passed through the court will always be a bitter victory because by nightfall you will be greeted by several stacks of paperwork requiring you to read through and sign off on while your so-called rival will laugh at you and then cry an hour later when they find out they also needed to sign off on several documents to match your workload.
The families were powerful, but they knew their places.
To outsiders, they were like night and day.
To the factions, they were like tigers and wolves.
But for the Elysiums, politics came second to their survival.
The Odums thought the same.
—
Julius woke up feeling like a giant bruise. He tried to open his eyes, but when he caught the sight of the afternoon sun shining through a window, he groaned again and allowed the drilling pain in his head to wash over him with the intensity of a boulder.
From beside him, he heard breathing.
Someone stood up. The sound of a chair being slid back and shoes quietly padding around the room filled his ears.
The curtains closed and Julius opened his eyes.
He was lying on a sofa, in a small and dimly-lit room, surrounded by flowers like a dead man at a funeral.
Even the sheet they had covered him with was white.
“Awake?” a voice quietly called out.
Julius turned and saw—
“Nazareth?”
He frowned a split second later. His voice sounded like sandpaper. He felt the inflammation in his throat, and the metallic scent in his breath mixed with the bitterness of his medication.
“Don’t speak. Drink this first.”
Julius, who was used to being hand fed on his worse days, lifted his head slightly and allowed Nazareth to hold a glass of water to his lips. He took slow sips, allowing the cool liquid to soothe the burning in his throat and wash away the taste of blood on his tongue.
He was hardly embarrassed by what was natural, yet a small part of him was self-conscious that he was sometimes unable to do even the simplest tasks. It was not an image he wanted to show to his peers, even less so to Nazareth of all people.
Nazareth’s face was unreadable. He didn’t even bat an eye after he took the water away. He helped Julius sit up in bed and reached for a bucket of water next to the sofa.
Julius noticed he had taken off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. He appeared oddly vulnerable with his forearms exposed.
Nazareth didn’t look at him. His focus was on dipping a handkerchief into the bucket.
“You lost a lot of blood,” he said, wringing the water out of the cloth.
Julius stared at his hands. “How long was I…”
“You were out for an hour. Your servant went to get a wheelchair,” Nazareth stuffed the wet handkerchief into his hand. “Clean your face.”
Julius did as he was instructed, but winced when he raised his arm.
Nazareth seemed to have noticed his reaction and blinked, “Light-headed?”
“No.”
“You need more pain medicine. Your servant didn’t bring enough tincture.”
Julius was about to respond with a sarcastic comment, but Nazareth suddenly left the room.
Julius blinked.
Something was definitely wrong with Nazareth’s head. You would think a kid who grew up in the streets would be used to blood and sickness by now. He was acting as if Julius would die at any moment.
Shrugging to himself, Julius ignored whatever Nazareth was doing outside the room and bore the pain of his arm to wipe his face.
It was half-assed and he could not reach any further than his brow.
At the very least, he felt a little more refreshed than he did before.
Placing the handkerchief down, he looked around the room.
There were flowers everywhere, wrapped in bouquets, growing in pots, and blooming in vases. He wondered if they had carried him to the florist’s workspace.
A few minutes go by and Nazareth re-entered the room with a steaming bowl of brown-colored water.
What the fuck is this shit?
“Drink it,” Nazareth insisted, bringing the bowl to his face.
Is he trying to kill me?
Julius leaned away.
Nazareth took a spoon and scooped up some liquid.
“Here, I’ll help you drink it.”
How about no.
“… What is it?”
Nazareth answered, “Dandelion leaves and Millow Bark. The leaves are meant to build blood and the bark is a mild pain reliever for your…” He looked meaningfully at Julius’… well… everything.
Everything was in pain, Julius thought with mild annoyance.
Nazareth brought the spoon forward but Julius avoided it.
The medicine smelled like every other tonic and tincture he had ever tasted.
Like dirt with a hint of grass.
“It’s not that I don’t trust your ability to make a proper tincture, Nazareth, but I don’t trust your ability to make a proper tincture.”
Because even though the reports said Nazareth was showing interest in becoming a healer, this was the same kid who Julius watched casually poison someone’s drink because they said something rude to a server.
Not that Julius would side with a rude diner.
The diner had cussed out the server when they saw their check and didn’t like the amount they had to pay, but Julius thought rendering them permanently blind and mute might have been a little harsh.
“It won’t kill you,” said Nazareth.
“…”
“You will feel better.”
Julius silently pushed the spoon away.
Nazareth blinked.
They stared at each other for a few seconds without moving.
Just as it was starting to get awkward, Nazareth scooped up another spoonful of the brown liquid and brought it to his own lips.
Julius watched as he swallowed.
And then he reacted.
“What are you doing?!”
Oh, that hurt.
Julius winced.
His throat felt like he had drunk a gallon of liquid fire.
“Drink,” Nazareth insisted again.
Julius was about to retort, but Nazareth had quick reflexes and shoved a spoonful of bitter medicine into his mouth without batting an eye.
His brows wrinkled at the taste.
Nazareth’s eyes shone with a foreboding satisfaction. It was a stark contrast to the dull and lifeless stare he often sported.
Julius accepted his defeat.
But then, Nazareth had to open his stupid mouth, “If you say ‘ah,’ I’ll give you candy.”
Never mind, this boy was really looking for an ass-kicking.
“Do not speak,” he snapped, “You’re giving me an aneurysm.”
“Oh,” Nazareth pushed another spoonful of medicine into his mouth, “Sorry.”
He wasn’t sorry at all.
Julius didn’t have the energy to argue against this deplorable display of… what the hell is this, anyway? What do you even call this type of treatment?
He better get candy after this.
—
The mantle of the Elysium Duke was not a prize to be had, but a trial to ensure one was worthy.
To the Aristocracy, the Elysium Family was known to be a brutal family.
It was common for successors to die, one after another, and for another to replace them soon after. It was always believed the family lived by the rule of “dog-eat-dog,” its succession battles even worse than that of any other noble family.
Very few Elysium children make it to adulthood, hence each successor was required to sire or bear as many children as possible.
All to ensure the family will live on.
Julius had twelve siblings.
He was not the eldest, but he was the current heir.
Contrary to the expectations of some of his classmates, he did not kill any of his older siblings.
While the deaths appeared like foul play, the reality was far more tragic.
It was said long ago the first Elysium ancestor had angered a fairy. As vengeance, it placed its mark upon the bloodline and ushered a curse that would follow each generation, nipping the heels of every child until there would be no one left to inherit the mark of the curse.
All those with gold-spun hair and vermillion eyes risk dying young.
Constant tragedies plagued the children of the family. Every generation, children would die or disappear due to mysterious circumstances.
The official heir showed promise only if they were capable of surviving an attempt on their life.
It was a trial, a test.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
But at a great cost if one were to fail.
Children of the Elysium Family do not share the same mothers—or fathers if the Duke was a woman.
(Julius had one ancestor who bore thirteen children. She lived to her fifties, which was quite impressive, all things considered.)
It was a custom for the Elysium Duke to be unwed.
The moment Julius’ father ascended as Duke, he had brought in several women from all sorts of backgrounds to surrogate his children.
The women were paid handsomely for their assistance, but that was all. Once they were done with their duties, they left—having no further relations to the Duke once it was all over.
As for the children of these surrogates, they could only pray they would survive the curse.
Thus, the heir apparent was always changing, always circling, like a never-ending, drug-inducing cycle of hell.
There was a time when a rumor spread across the Empire about the curse. The reaction of the people was mostly skeptical.
It further solidified the theory that the Elysiums made their children compete for heirship, hence the reputation.
Julius only wished it was so.
If the right of succession was a battle, his older siblings might have had a better chance of surviving.
If there was a rivalry, at least it would have been physical in nature.
A curse was not an object to be touched. There was no running from something intangible and inevitable.
The only way to live was to survive the reaper’s attention, but seeing how Julius was the current heir, not everyone could win that game of chance.
—
It started with Janarius, his eldest brother. Janarius was like a star, a bright celestial body that shined so quickly and fiercely.
But stars burned faster the more they shone, and Janarius couldn’t shine forever.
His brother had been sent to give aid to a village deep in their territory after it had experienced a deadly flood. His caravan was attacked by bandits on their way there.
The bandits had set off mana bombs around the area and made off with the resources meant for the villagers.
They found Janarius’ body a week later, burnt to a crisp. They were only able to identify him by the white ribbon around his neck.
Their father hunted down the bandits and made sure they would never see the light of day again. He never forgave himself for being the one to send Janarius to his death.
Februas was next.
Rough and awkward Februas was like a mountain. He gave out warm hugs.
He was abducted on his way home from the Academy.
When their father sent the money, the kidnappers had already tortured him to death and left him in the woods near the Elysium Manor. His remains were… unrecognizable, except for the white ribbon around his neck.
The torso had been separated from his lower body, and his intestines hung out. His spine had been shattered into several pieces. His heart had been ripped from his chest and smashed against a tree.
It was assumed he had died slowly and painfully. His throat was the only part of his body that hadn’t been mutilated, having been protected by the multitudes of protection seals embroidered on the white silk of his ribbon.
Their father, in turn, scoured the entire continent and made sure every last one of the kidnappers died a gruesome death.
Marchius was the third heir. He was sweet and kind, but easy to push around. He liked to bake.
He died half a year later when he caught a mysterious illness.
After that, there were Aprilia and Mayana, his older sisters.
During the Autumn Hunt, they lost control of their horses and were taken deep into the mountain. Their remains were found a month later in a cave, miles away from the hunting grounds. They were identified by the ribbons on their necks.
Juneth was born with congenital heart disease. He started having problems three days into his heirship. He died a week after.
His father had lost six children by the time Julius was ten.
The world kept spinning.
His father grieved.
Julius ascended as the seventh heir.
If he died, that left five other younger siblings waiting. Waiting in fear that they would lose him, too.
His father grew protective.
Julius waited for the inevitable.
Two years later, he was poisoned.
It was unexpected, despite all the preparations.
Everyone had been taken off-guard, only because it was such a stupidly simple attempt.
It started when someone found out he liked dandelions.
There used to be a field near the manor filled with dandelions every summer. He and his siblings would go pick them during the summer holidays.
However, those happy summers became short-lived as his siblings started to die.
His childhood nanny had brewed him a dandelion tea and slipped a new type of neurotoxin into the drink.
He was on the ground after the first sip, suffocating to death as his body burned from the inside and red rings formed on his skin.
He almost died and fell into a coma.
They eventually found an antidote, but the damage done to his body was too great.
The neurotoxin was extracted from a variety of sources and then filtered of its impurities through a lead distiller. Although they managed to save his life, the poison was never fully eradicated from his body.
When he woke up, he was greeted by the sight of a woman who would later marry his father.
His father became the first Elysium to marry another in centuries. The wedding was joyous.
Julius’ body never recovered.
—
“You should have stayed in bed for another week.”
Nazareth said with a hint of disapproval in his voice. He was grinding something together in a bowl.
Julius leaned his back against the sofa. He was sitting upright with a jar of candy on his lap. He popped a piece into his mouth.
“I thought it would be fine.”
“There is a puddle of blood the size of my head staining the floor of Sutton’s store. I beg to differ.”
Crunch!
Instead of responding, Julius bit down on the hard candy. The resounding crack echoed through the room.
Ooh, this one’s ginger.
“You shouldn’t have too many,” Nazareth took the jar from him.
Julius scowled, but he didn’t have the strength to grab the candy jar back, “I’m stress-eating because you pissed me off.”
“Please, I piss you off by existing,” Nazareth responded without batting an eye.
Shiik! Shiik! Shiik!
“What are you making?”
Nazareth sprinkled the content into another bowl and mixed it until it turned into a translucent cream paste-like consistency.
“A salve for pain relief,” he answered.
“Hm,” Julius tried to flex his fingers, but they only twitched. He winced.
Nazareth wordlessly brought the salve over and kneaded some into the joints of his fingers.
There was a cool, minty feeling that spread through his hands before a warmth settled beneath his skin.
“It helps circulation. Try moving them again.”
Julius did. His hands clenched weakly, barely enough to hold a pen, but it was a large improvement compared to his first attempt.
Nazareth packed the salve into a decent-sized jar and set it beside him on the sofa.
“Take it home and use it. If it works well, I will make you more.”
Julius continued to clench and unclench his hands, “Why haven’t you brought this to the market?” he couldn’t help asking.
His mother had miracle cures, but that was only due to her intensive knowledge and research. She was both his physician and healer, so her area of specialization was much more concentrated than the general healers and herbalists.
Nazareth was another beast, altogether. Julius had seen him fine-tune a war-grade poison recipe so the worst effects would be neutralized. Julius was the one who found the recipe in the Elysium Archives. He had thought Nazareth would like to take a look at it.
It had only taken an entire day for Nazareth to understand every component of the recipe. He was brewing it by evening after tweaking the recipe to his satisfaction.
For Nazareth, self-customizing a poison recipe was child’s play.
That was what made him so terrifying.
“That would be illegal. I have no license.”
Nazareth had, once again, admitted to something he shouldn’t have.
Julius breathed out from his nose, “Right. I forgot.”
“… I think I broke several laws,” he said again with a spark of realization clear in his eyes, “I should be in prison.”
“Please stop talking.”
Nazareth and poison-making had always gone hand-in-hand. To suddenly be told he was also unlicensed said a lot about the way everyone was conditioned to believe it was simply natural for a sixteen-year-old teenage boy to be playing around and excelling in that field of study.
And now he was interested in healing.
The exact opposite of his previous interest.
Julius would eat his leg brace if it turned out Nazareth was shit at healing.
—
“I didn’t know you had an interest in healing,” Julius admitted.
Neo heard the edge beneath the light-hearted probing.
They were still waiting on Julius’ servant to come back with a wheelchair.
“I think I found my true calling,” Neo spat out a cliche line and watched the way Julius’ brow twitched in annoyance.
“I see.”
“En.”
“Learned anything that could cure stupidity?”
“No.”
Julius hummed.
“I heard you took up gardening.”
“Mhm.”
“Is that what inspired your interest?”
“Mm.”
Julius glared at him, “I don’t speak Odum, Nazareth. Quit giving me single-syllable responses.”
“En, sorry.”
“… Why are you like this…?”
Neo shrugged. He finished Julius’ health chart and brought it over so they could both look at it.
He changed the topic without warning.
“With the prescriptions you took this morning, you shouldn’t have had a fit until evening. What were you doing all day?”
Neo rounded the conversation back to Julius.
The other had also been avoiding answering any of Neo’s questions, but unlike Neo, who was writing his health chart and wasn’t entirely paying attention to Julius’ attempts to deflect, Julius was an actual patient.
Although Neo specialized in pharmaceutical research, he worked as a resident during medical school. It was alright, at first, until a terror attack took place in the heart of the city and he wound up being the one responsible for getting the bloodied patients into the ER.
They needed all hands on deck. Any wounds deemed safe enough for him to stitch were done by his hands. Any bodies needing to be taken to the morgue, he was placed with the team who needed to do it. For people who didn’t have anyone to pull the plug, he pulled them.
Eventually, he threw in the towel.
All the blood and screaming reminded him of the terror attack he orchestrated in his past life. It too killed many people.
He couldn’t deal with an environment like that, not with his memories. He immediately went into medical research instead, because he was a coward.
But it didn’t mean he didn’t learn anything from his short residency.
He was pretty good at diagnosis during his time at the hospital, and medical research usually required diagnostic abilities. How else were they supposed to find a way to cure the sick? Guugle?
Julius mumbled something.
“Hm?”
He mumbled again.
“I can’t hear you,” Neo said, not unkindly.
Julius sighed, “I went shopping. I got a little carried away.”
“Ah.”
Neo raised a brow. Julius had always seemed like a person who didn’t buy his own clothes.
The fact that his father would even let him out of the house—
“Does Lord Elysium know about this?”
Ah, yes. Lord Elysium. He was known to be the most protective of all the Elysium Dukes before him.
And for good reasons.
With the Syndicate acting up and the Iron Lotus starting to crawl out of the shadows, the black market and criminal underworld had been the most active in recent years.
The town was fairly peaceful, but the slums and red-light districts weren’t far from the markets and squares.
The criminal underworld thrived where no one could see them, and after what happened with Janarius and Februas… Neo was impressed Julius hadn’t triggered a search party throughout the Empire.
“I’m here to buy flowers for Mother.”
So in other words, Julius said was buying flowers for his stepmother, but omitted the fact that he would also be buying other luxury items for her as well.
Neo thought back to the boxes Julius’ servant had been carrying.
“You love her a lot.”
Julius sniffed, “She deserves the best. I spent an hour finding the perfect fur cloak for her to wear in the winter.”
Winter is months away, Julius!
“Your servant sent a messenger to your family to tell them you fainted.”
“What?!”
Neo looked away, “I think it should have been obvious. I told you he went to get a wheelchair.”
“Not from the manor! I thought he was going to borrow it from a local clinic!”
Julius tried to stand up.
“Careful!” Neo grabbed his arm and kept him in place.
Julius scowled, “I don’t have time for this, Nazareth, I have to get home.”
“You will,” Neo assured him, his hand reaching out to brush Julius’ hair out of his face. The blonde locks have scattered from their pristine state.
Julius froze, but Neo didn’t pay any mind to it.
“You have no fever,” Neo mumbled, stepping away.
He heard voices coming from outside.
“Your servant is back.”
—
Nazareth left the room.
“Is the wheelchair…” His voice gradually disappeared the further he went.
Julius could hear voices.
They were muffled, but he recognized Thomas and someone else who was likely Nazareth’s personal servant.
Renald, or something. There were rumors Nazareth had blinded him in the past.
Julius waited.
He stared at the jar of salve beside him.
—And then at his hands.
He sighed.
Nazareth was not a good person.
He wasn’t atrociously evil.
He just wasn’t… good.
Julius didn’t agree with Nazareth’s cause, but he knew what grief could do.
It didn’t make it any easier to empathize with him.
If he had it any other way, Nazareth was not someone he would choose to associate himself with.
There was a… philosophical difference between them that made him hesitate.
Nazareth wanted to kill his younger brother.
Everyone in Noble Society suspected this.
But Julius had seen the brothers’ conflict with his own eyes and thought… well, killing was a harsh word.
Nazareth didn’t really aim to kill. Rather, he tormented his little brother like a toy. There was a twisted form of love and hate between them that forced everyone else to run for cover.
Still, Julius never approved of Nazareth’s actions.
Killing or not, he would rather have his siblings healthy and whole than have to suffer.
Nazareth… didn’t care.
Worried, concerned, reasonable. No. Nazareth was none of these things, and if he ever were, it was a rarity to see.
Not even Lester had gotten the chance to see such vulnerability in the eldest Odum, and he was presumably Nazareth’s “favorite” among them.
It was the minor differences in his overall demeanor that had left Julius questioning whether or not his friend was somewhat possessed by a fairy or trickster.
But no fairy or changeling could ever imitate a person so perfectly, and “New Nazareth” wasn’t entirely a different Nazareth.
Nazareth still had a face like wood, and he still spoke like the rest of his family. His social skills were lacking, and there was still a hint of darkness brewing inside him, stirring, waiting to be let out when the time was right.
The distinctive lilt of his voice from the red-light district still blended into the strict lines of the aristocratic vernacular when he let down his guard.
The way he spoke was sometimes muffled and sharp, hinting at his origins.
Since the day he stepped into the Odum Household, the scandal of his mother’s identity erupted across Noble Society.
It was one thing to be a bastard child.
It was another to be a bastard child of an Odum.
The Red Light District remained on his tongue. It was the speech of the brothel houses, the language of the courtesans.
Some nobles would give anything to buy the child of the late Alouysia Webbers.
Julius learned of this from Nazareth, himself.
He thought back to the day of the ritual. The oath they took to form Tethers.
Ties, as they called it—a flimsy name to cover up the fact that they tethered themselves to each other.
Julius remembered.
—
He didn’t know how, and he didn’t know when, but Nazareth had somehow gathered the four of them together.
Strands from their magic cores had all intertwined into a chaotic mess in the center of the room.
The four of them promised to take on the world together, to help each other reach their goals… that is if they survived to the end.
And for the most important part of the vows, they needed to each share a secret. It had to be something important and deeply buried within their hearts—a hidden desire that could ruin them if anyone were to find out.
The moon laid witness to their oath.
All four of them had added a drop of their blood into a bowl.
Julius provided the alcohol.
Between a kid from a Baron knight family, the maybe-heir of an Earl family, and the bastard son of the only other Duke family besides his own, Julius had felt that he was a part of a joke.
Something that goes “A baron, an earl, and two dukes walked into a bar…”
Lester had gone first.
They knew Lester hated noble society. His family earned their barony through the military and commanded a group of knights that no one liked. In the Academy, he was looked at with contempt.
Julius had assumed he would say something about the hierarchy, or his insecurity due to his social status.
As it turns out, the boy simply didn’t want to be alone anymore.
Loneliness.
Julius had assumed Lester was a bullheaded child. The kid acted like all he knew was how to swing a sword.
The boy was surprisingly more sensible than he expected, so sensible and honest that Julius had a hard time looking at him.
He hated seeing kids cry.
And it was Nazareth of all people to take the boy under his wing, guiding him regardless of his status. Not that it helped Nazareth with his personal issues. He was still pretty insane despite the pint-size addition that followed him around.
Elliot was next. He had decided to reveal his secret because they had sat in silence for five minutes after Lester spoke and simultaneously started to bawl his eyes out. The air had been filled with pity.
Apparently, all Elliot ever wanted was an ounce of attention. He had a fear of being forgotten, with no one to remember him; no one to love him, or see him, or even hate him.
Poor, poor Elliot.
His mother was indifferent to him and his father rarely left his room. The only one who wasn’t afraid to love him was a sickly older half-brother from his father’s first marriage, and even that love could only end in failure.
The half-brother was loved by Elliot’s mother… the same woman who couldn’t even spare a glance toward her own son.
Then there was him and Nazareth. They were technically the oldest of the group, but Julius remembered how Nazareth hid his face in his hair and didn’t want to speak.
He had seen the wicked smile of a troublemaker from under the messily long and tangled hair, but he wouldn’t say anything. Instead, he settled his red vermillion gaze on Julius and stared until Julius gave in to the pressure.
So Julius spoke.
He had a fairly simple secret to tell, but the desire behind it should never be known to the public.
“I will put it simply to all of you here. I’m sure some of you have heard the rumors regarding my late siblings. And if you are aware of the traditions of the Elysium Family, this might make sense. Suffice to say, despite my title as heir, my life will continue to be in danger until the day my father dies.”
He had paused, hesitated.
However, eventually, he locked eyes with each of them and finally said—
“I want to live.”
And then there was silence, awkward and nervous.
“I want to live a long life, and I want to move freely someday. If you can grant my wish, then I will do anything in my power to help you.”
Julius felt as if he had sold his soul to a demon.
He had basically admitted to a very common desire, and not in the common way of many, but that of status.
Commoners were not powerful. They lived under the laws of the aristocracy. They worked for the sake of the Empire, and in return, they were cherished by the noble class. It was because the nobles protected them that they had the right to desire a long life.
But nobles were not allowed to desire a long life. Desire was the keyword.
A noble could live a long life, but that was up to chance.
To say they wanted to live long was taboo.
By being born into the life of nobility, or ascending into it, nobles were not people. They were symbols of power and protection. Under the Imperial Law of Rhine, all nobles were duty-bound to die protecting the people of the Empire.
The price of nobility was costly, but no one wanted another Great Uprising.
Of course, not all people deserved this protection. There were certain exceptions that kept the aristocracy from being too benevolent. Criminals and evil pieces of shit were one such example.
But for the people, the farmers, the merchants, the artisans, and many others, the noble class was forbidden from being too self-indulgent.
Hence why, for Julius, who was the heir of Duke Elysium, the desire to live was selfish.
Because if it came to a day that he would have to sacrifice his life for the people, it was his responsibility to die.
Unexpectedly enough, when the tension in the room became a thick and uncomfortable atmosphere, it was Nazareth who broke it.
“Ha… Hahahahaha…!”
He had cackled, his smile was so sharp and glinting, like a knife raised to the sky. His laugh echoed hauntingly in the room, bouncing off the walls and into Julius’ ears.
It was the perfect image of the scummy troublemaker, the menace of noble society, the crazy maniac.
A psychotic freak.
Perhaps Elliot and Lester had not seen the horrifying shift, too confused and distracted by his laughter, but there was a cruel light in those red eyes hidden by the curtain of hair—peeking out ever so slightly as they stared into Julius’ own.
In his heart, Julius knew Nazareth was something else.
Something dangerous, like fire. He was a roaring flame burning through the trees, devouring the land until nothing but ash remained.
He was like an existence that could bring them to their ruin.
“Hahahaha… Heh… You…”
Nazareth tilted his head, the slither of his smile twisting his face into an image of a demon.
Julius didn’t know whether or not that gaze was directed at him or something else.
He hadn’t had time to process it.
Nazareth’s laughter died away eventually, ending in a breathy huff, like a cackling crow with a bone stuck in its throat.
The crooked smile widened, and Nazareth stepped forward, effortlessly weaving a strand of his core into the Tethering Circle at the center of the room.
The energy in the room surged.
—
Neo pulled the door open and rolled the wheelchair inside.
Julius grunted upon seeing it.
“Your carriage awaits.”
Ignoring the look Julius was sending him, he bent down and carefully helped the older boy into the chair.
Once Julius was properly seated, Neo brought in a bouquet of Asphodels and shoved it into his arms.
“Sutton prepared a new one. Free of charge.”
Julius paused, and then he nodded, “Tell him my thanks.”
“Tell him yourself.”
They left the room.
“Young Master,” Rainier greeted him.
“Master…!” Julius’ servant frantically approached them.
The poor man had been losing his mind with worry after Julius collapsed.
Neo handed him the jar of homemade Leopard Balm with careful instructions on how to use it.
He hoped to relieve some of Julius’ pains.
“Julius,” Neo stopped him just as they were leaving.
“What is it?”
“When you have time, come to the manor.”
Suspicion appeared on Julius’ face. Slowly, he asked, “For a meeting?”
Neo nodded.
(In the back of his mind, Julius knew he shouldn’t forgive him so easily. He knew this, he did. But Nazareth had the social grace of a rock. He tended to fuck up… a lot… and Julius was a closeted pushover.)
“Have you sent out the invitations?”
“Not yet. You’re the first to know.”
Julius sighed, “You know where I live. A letter should suffice as an invitation.”
With that, he and his servant left the store.
Neo watched them go.
“Rainier, do you think father would mind if I invited more friends over?”
Even the ones he might have disapproved of?
Maybe if his father met them, he might like them more.
Neo was starting to have a sneaking suspicion that his father didn’t like Julius and the others because he believed they were enabling his previous actions.
Rainier simply answered, “Master may permit it.”
Gareth would do anything for his kids. Ever since his eldest son requested approval from the Glasshouse, his “father-ing” instincts increased. Guinivere and Aurelion had always been more self-sufficient and independent. Nazareth, on the other hand, did things in the shadows and in secret. To be able to hold a conversation with his eldest son… It made Gareth a very happy man.
“Sir Neo,” Sutton came back to the storefront.
“Sutton,” Neo answered, “My apologies for all the trouble.”
The florist rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, “It was nothing. Here. I also made you a new one,” he brought out another bouquet.
“Thank you. You are truly a blessing.”
Fever-red dyed Sutton’s face.
Neo grew concerned.
But Sutton shoved the bouquet into his arms hurriedly and his attention was soon on a branch of Yew hidden between the beautifully arranged flowers.
“This is…” Neo didn’t know what to say.
Sutton wrung his hands nervously, “You know a lot about healing and you’re a regular here so… uh, I hope you like it?”
Neo wanted to point out he technically wasn’t a regular because Rainier was the one who usually picked up the flowers, but Sutton’s eyes were full of hope and expectations.
After a few awkward seconds, he placed a hand on Sutton’s shoulder, “I can’t thank you enough.”
Sutton’s complexion turned rosy like a sunset. The boy was easy to fluster.
It was a wonder how he and Aurelion managed to become friends in their last life. One was so shy and good-natured while the other was a walking ice cube waiting to melt into a puddle.
Neo felt the corners of his lips twitch in amusement.
“Young Master,” Rainier suddenly moved closer behind him, “We still have an appointment at St. Achilles.”
The reminder was gentle and unassuming, but Rainier was silently telling him they had imposed on Sutton way longer than was appropriate.
“You’re right. We must leave.”
Neo brought the bouquet close to his chest and nodded to Sutton, “Have a good afternoon.”
“Yes!” Sutton suddenly shouted.
Both Rainier and Neo looked at him strangely.
The boy froze, and then coughed, “I mean, yes, you, too. Sir Neo. Get home safe.”
“En, thank you.”
Rainier opened the door for him and they left.
—
Extra:
Sutton hurried behind the front desk and fell to his knees. He aggressively covered his face with his hands.
Slap!
“Mmghhh…” He groaned.
And then–
A noise that was crossed between a dying whale and a dying cow echoed through the store.
—
Step 36. Introduce Leopard Balm into a western fantasy world. Your third and final ex (friend) has a lot of dead siblings and needs a moment to relive his traumas. Let him have his moment. There’s a lot to unpack.
—
The author has something to say: Thank you, Purple_Gravity, ST✰R, Ash_galaxy, and Mob for the amazing fanarts. You can find them on the fanart page.
Purple_Gravity
ST✰R
Ash_galaxy
Mob
I’m always so so happy whenever a chapter gets uploaded! Thank you so much!
Thank you for this wonderful story!! Can’t wait to read more!!! 😍 btw i love the title and Julius being a closeted pushover hahahaha
Thank you so much for the update!
P.S. Did Sutton help himself at the end or is my mind just dirty? lol
Oh, no, nothing happened 😂. He’s just… expressing himself.
Sorry, didn’t realize I replied here 🤣
Thank you for updating!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️
I’m always waiting for this one 🥰
I absolutely love this story and it is such a joy to read each chapter as they come out.
Dang his story so dramatic I hope neo an his crew can help. Hmmm maybe the one causin all this is the same shits that neo made that curse for
Thank you for the update. I absolutely love this story. Seeing people fall for Neo’s awkward charm is my favorite.
Thank you for the chapter! Lol Sutton’s embarrassed.
Thank you for the chapter!
Oh man, do I love this novel 😫😫😫😫
Thank you so much for the new chapter!!!
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤ an update!! So happy~
Love all the art, wow!
Thank you for the chapter!
Thank you so much! ☺️💕
Neo’s mom might be from Elysium Ducal family?? She has that blonde hair and vermilion eyes righttttt? Σ(￣∇￣”)
Finally catching up on this! I agree. Also if Elysium and Odum got together it might make sense why Neo’s birth broke the curse of Odums only being able to have 2 kids. And Julius loves dandelions too!
I’m sorry but- IS NO ONE GOING TO MENTION THOE CRUEL DEAAATHS 😭 I’ve read so many gruesome death but I guess you can never get enough. Wait- that seems like a wrong word. Anyways, the writer is always so good at writing that I skipped my group activity. Why are you so gooooooood 😭