You crazed fool, bewitched by madness! Let go of my brother!

The roar rode a hard gust straight into Adelaide’s ears. Neprah, only just restrained, tore free in her moment of daze, and wind mana surged into a storm of invisible blades lunging for her like a flock of hawks.

Facing an attack that could shave a hill flat, Adelaide didn’t even turn her head. She stood there stunned, and her grip on Samir’s collar loosened like a wilted petal.

Her pearly teeth parted, yet no one could hear her song.

Under the twin accelerations of Crimson Frenzy and the Sacrifice Domain, her incantation ran far beyond human hearing. In a blink, the magic rallied and took shape.

Blood moths bloomed from nothing, cracking cocoons and flaring their hypnotic patterns to the world like painted lanterns. Their beauty was blasphemy; they swelled the instant they were born, then burst into blood-flowers, a chain of thunderclaps shattering the air.

F—!

Neprah’s wind blades were wiped out at once, and he got blown away with a curse like a leaf in a gale. Samir flew too, but he was closer to Adelaide; he guessed her intent, threw up a makeshift shield, and sprinted like an arrow. He barely covered the only defenseless soul in the room—Emily—before the blast hit.

—Ugh! Waaah!

The dining room walls turned to powder, a chalky storm. Three figures shrieked as the shockwave scooped them up. Samir took the worst of it for her sake, coughing blood midair like a burst plum. Neprah suffered heavy internal wounds and couldn’t catch his falling brother; they slammed into earth a hundred meters away like stones dropped from a cliff.

Luck breathed on them. They landed in an abandoned field, a bedding of withered bellflowers. Sun and wind had gentled the fibers to down, a soft quilt that caught them and spared their necks from snapping like dry twigs.

I—%…&$—cough, cough— that crazy woman…! You okay?!

Neprah hacked for seconds before air returned, curses spitting like sparks. He staggered up and limped to Samir. Samir’s eyes stayed shut; he was out cold.

Emily sat nearby unscathed, vacant as a doll. Her gaze drifted, as if none of this had happened.

Neprah propped Samir up. Hey, wake up! Is now nap time, you pampered brat?

His mouth snapped, but his shoulders dropped when he felt breath, heavy as a weight sliding off. They were alive—that was fortune amid ruin.

When Adelaide pressed a blade to his throat, the gap in strength felt like a chasm. Neprah truly thought he’d leave his bones here.

Thinking back, shameful relief washed him like cool rain on scorched earth. He was glad she kept a sliver of humanity.

But Neprah had it wrong.

Adelaide didn’t spare them out of mercy, nor from a clean-handed creed. She simply had no room in her mind for them; her focus was a locked door.

When the chain of proofs clicked in her head, their clamor turned to useless static.

In that sense, they were lucky. Adelaide didn’t choose a spell; instinct picked her first syllable. She didn’t direct the summoned beasts. She just made them bloom and burst on the spot.

And Blood Magic’s blood moths don’t hit that hard when they self-destruct. So the noise-makers—them—weren’t turned to chum.

The blood-mist and dust thinned. The white-haired girl stood untouched, waking from a trance. She slowly turned to Mira behind her.

In the wrecked dining room, only her spot stayed pristine, an island in a storm. She didn’t guard, didn’t raise her sword. Her eyes stayed lowered, certain her sister wouldn’t strike her; that certainty lay on her shoulders like a cloak.

Adelaide looked at her. Her fingers trembled like leaves. Her gaze moved from fog and doubt, to recoil and disbelief. She bit her lip, denying her own conclusion again and again. When denial failed, pain and despair rose like a tide.

She covered her face and shook for a long moment, a tree in winter wind. She clung to a last hope, waiting for Mira to speak. Tell her Samir was a damn liar, that all of this was false, that she’d overthought.

Silence answered. The air congealed, an invisible wall that muffled sound, cutting apart two people who’d slept in each other’s arms for months.

What is this distance, cold as glass?

Was what they said… all true?

No… that kind of thing…

Absolutely… no…

Adelaide let her arm fall and spoke softly, a candle lighting in the dark.

Mira… do you remember the oath you swore before me?

Her voice started low, but the tail rose back to normal. Like old times, it turned gentle, as if the tremor and pain had vanished.

Only then did Mira raise her face to meet her gaze. Her lips parted.

Sis—

Her word cut off with a clear ding, metal singing. Red met silver. The scarlet Ceremonial Sword kissed Mira’s face.

Hey, Mira…

Uh—!

You said you wouldn’t betray me again, wouldn’t lie to me. Isn’t that right?

Adelaide held her at blade’s length. With her free hand, she lifted Mira’s dark-gold hair, fingers combing silk. She teased out the bell hairpin hidden inside.

Because you promised me—swore you’d always stand by my side— I gave you the right to wear it again. But why?

Why did you… do this?

She whispered at Mira’s ear. Her breath ran hot along the hollow of the neck. Mira’s skin flushed visibly, and the hand holding her sword trembled.

That tremor gave Adelaide an opening. Mira’s sword flicked up, spun in the air, and stabbed the floor. The scarlet Ceremonial Sword rested at her throat.

Tell me, Mira… did your sister do something wrong?

No…

If not, then why… didn’t you stand with me just now, speak for me?

Adelaide’s free hand touched Mira’s collarbone and slid down like falling rain.

Mira wore sleek light armor today for agile movement, not airtight heavy plate. Adelaide’s fingers slipped through the gaps with ease and found the inner clasps.

Sis…!

Click— the light armor fell, revealing a thin undershirt. Mira shivered, tried to step back. But vine-like blood threads climbed her body and bound her still.

Come on, Mira, answer your sister. What awful thing did I do to make my lovely little sister recoil this much, even break your sworn oath?

I… didn’t… Mira felt a palm press to her chest. She clenched her teeth and forced the words. I just… don’t want you hurt.

Ehh, that reason again, Mira? Let’s be candid today. Let’s play a sisters’ truth-or-dare~

Adelaide’s smile looked pure as spring water, like this was only play. She snapped her fingers, and a black curtain draped over them.

When the darkness peeled back, they weren’t in the ruined dining room. They stood in a lavish bedroom, dim under two scented candles.

Adelaide lifted the Ceremonial Sword from Mira’s neck. It didn’t mean freedom.

She seized Mira’s wrist and pushed her onto the bed. Two delicate bodies sank into the soft mattress like falling petals.

Adelaide straddled Mira. Warm thighs pressed her stomach. She narrowed her eyes and circled a finger around the top button of the shirt.

From here on, every question your sister asks— you pick: a true answer, or a dare. And the dare… is being teased by me.

She spoke and teased the button up, stopping just before it slipped free.

Then, the first question…

…

Does what Samir and the others said tie to the Followers of Pleasure, Mira?

Mira turned her face away. Her exposed skin flushed red enough to bleed, while her lips went pale from pressure.

Adelaide smiled at that. She pressed her finger down. The button popped with a snap, unveiling a wide swath of reddened skin. Looks like you’ve chosen dare~

Her palm rested on Mira’s bare curve. She bent down slowly and whispered along Mira’s cheek.

Don’t tense up. At the start, your sister will be gentle. And even if you can’t handle my “teasing”, it’s fine, because…

You know the safety word that makes me stop, don’t you?

She left that honeyed whisper hanging. Adelaide opened her mouth. Her sharp fangs caught light in the dim room. Then she bit the base of Mira’s neck.

Mmph… ah!

Warm, copper-sweet blood and breathy sounds spilled together. Adelaide’s magic slipped through the wound. It slithered like a snake through the vessels, brushing Mira’s sensitive inner circuits.

It’s the body’s most fragile part. Mira’s own magic rejected the intruder on instinct. A feverish disarray swept her whole frame, turning into noise-lines that battered her mind.

Sis… don’t— mmh—

Sharper breaths leaked past Mira’s tightly pressed lips. No matter how she spoke the safety word they’d agreed on, Adelaide didn’t stop. She kept licking the skin of Mira’s neck and drinking her blood. Threads of Blood Magic probed deeper, teasing the inner sanctums within.

Ugh— y-yes. The Followers of Pleasure told me too, that… “prophecy”!

At last, after hearing the expected safety word, the fangs left the wound for a moment.

Adelaide lifted her face slowly. Her refined lady’s features were smeared with Mira’s blood, like a baby with dinner all over. But the lush curve at her lips was something no infant could mimic.

She hooked a finger under Mira’s chin and smiled. That’s better. Why not pick truth from the start? You know you can’t hide this from your sister~

I… didn’t—

Hush, don’t speak yet. Adelaide tapped Mira’s blood-drained lips. The game’s not over. Until it is… you only need to answer my questions.

She tilted her head, thoughtful, like a cat studying rain.

Let your sister sort her thoughts. Hm? No, strange. Mira, you knew something this important and kept it from me… why? It can’t be because of our spat about Father and Mother. That man turned to ashes eleven months ago— round it on the abacus, almost a year. Have you been this unhappy with me for that long?

“I don’t remember crossing any line with Mira back then—no blade drawn, no scar left, right?”

She let the pause steep like tea, then raised two fingers.

“So, Mira, please clear your big sister’s fog.” “Answer the second question: what wish did I fail to grant, that left my dear sister knotted with discontent?”

Adelaide finished the flourish and dipped, ready to press the dare again, when Mira’s voice cut the fog like a bell.

“…You know what I want, like a wish carved in stone.”

“…”

Adelaide’s restless hand froze, and her poised fang halted, a blade hovering just short of skin.

After a beat, she braced a palm on Mira’s chest and straightened atop her, like a moon rising over still water.

“Yeah. Of course I know what my adorable sister wants, like a lantern lit in a closed room.”

The curve of her mouth drained away; crimson eyes fixed on Mira’s azure gaze, embers locking onto a lake, and she spoke, word by word.

“You want us to hide away somewhere cut off, live a pastoral life like ink-wash fields and bamboo, right?”

“…Mm.” Her assent fell soft, like dew beading on grass.

“But that’s impossible, Mira!” Her voice slammed like storm shutters. “Princess-and-Hero tales end where they slay the demon lord, like curtains at sunset.”

“Authors know the moment that head hits the ground is their brightest hour, a flare against the night.”

“If the story keeps going, only ugly politics wait, mud that clings to boots.”

“Noble salons turn cold as marble and narrow as needles, social ranks stacked like brittle ladders.”

“They may not be demons, yet kin weave schemes more venomous than any lord, envy hissing like snakes in grass.”

“The god who rules fate isn’t kind; His suffering keeps coming, winter gnawing after autumn.”

“Defeat one demon lord, and a dragon rises, shadow big as a mountain under stormclouds.”

“Every Hero who treats that kill as life’s peak slackens with success, like a bowstring losing tautness.”

“In the end, endless new trials grind them down, topple them, heel on their back, everything stripped again, like leaves torn from a branch.”

“Sis…” Her call thinned like a reed in the wind.

“Yes, you don’t understand, but I do—this truth is a verdict carved into stone.” “No matter the deeds, no matter how great, he’s fated to lose everything.”

“Unless… unless…”

Mira reached out and called her name; Adelaide didn’t answer. She only breathed those two words, voice cooling with resolve, frost forming on iron.

“Unless he faces that truth, sets his resolve, wagers everything, grits his teeth till iron-taste fills his mouth, and climbs without looking back.”

“Climbs to a peak no one can threaten, a summit above storm and spear.”

“Becomes a king above all—only then can he dodge that future of loss.”

Mira watched her, eyelids trembling like moth wings against glass.

“But up that high, it’ll be lonely, sis—like a lone pine clinging to a cliff.”

Adelaide paused, a raindrop catching on a leaf.

Lonely?

The word came barbed. A dull sharp pain tore her chest open, like a hook ripping a seam.

In her mind flashed a girl and a dragon by the sea, grilling fish over embers, salt wind curling like fingers.

As the dragon’s vast, gentle eye overlapped Mira’s blue gaze, the Sacred Heart in her chest quickened, drums rolling in a temple.

Blood surged into a wild current, and her fingers clenched like iron claws under a red tide.

“Why don’t you get it!” Her shout cracked like lightning. “This isn’t a choice where you can have both shores!”

“I… I have to become king!”

Yes—no choice; she had to be king, a vow nailed into wood. As if to convince herself, she shouted again.

Her hands slammed onto Mira’s shoulders, hawk pinning prey, and she knocked aside the reaching hand as she snarled.

“Enough! I said it already!” “You just need to answer my question now!”

“What ‘prophecy’ did that bastard feed you—poison poured like black tea?”

“Enough to make you hide it this long, even stand against me for it—tell me!”

The playful mask she’d worn shattered like clay. Truth or dare shed the game, leaving only the bare blade of questioning.

Adelaide pinned Mira beneath her; her crimson pupils burned like live coals in the dark.

“Don’t force me… to use the Dream Eater Spider’s Magic Core to pry into your heart, Mira, like a spider lantern sinking through silk-dark dreams.”