Catherine did not remember how she returned home. Her mind was completely empty, as if someone had simply flipped a switch and her thoughts had stopped.
Today's events had dealt her far too heavy a blow. Five long years of hope and waiting. Five years of agonizing work and hatred toward herself. And all for nothing. Grey still remained a powerless cripple, doomed to an early death.
Did her son truly have no chance? As a mother, Catherine did not want to accept such an outcome. But did she have a choice?
Elven healers were rightfully considered the best in the world. Their fame was well deserved, rooted in the thousand-year history of Eridania. And yet even their finest representative had proven powerless.
What else could she do? How could she save her child?
Catherine tried with all her strength to regain her composure. She did not want to show weakness in front of her daughter. But the teacup she held in her hand treacherously continued to tremble.
Heaven was her witness, Catherine tried to hold herself together. She tried very hard. But the collapse of her greatest hope could not pass without a trace.
At last her strength gave out. Her shoulders sagged and began to shake. Tears burst forth as if a dam had broken, rushing in a violent stream and leaving shining trails across her beautiful cheeks.
"I'm sorry, Grace… sob, sob… I'm sorry… you have such a useless mother…
I… I truly don't know what to do.
Maybe I was wrong?
I always told your brother that he must never give up. I promised that one day I would definitely find a way to cure him. It was me who forced him to try new methods every time, pushing his body to its very limit…"
She covered her face with her hands.
"And what was the result? It was all in vain…
I failed completely… I couldn't protect him, and now all I can do is watch as he slowly fades away right before my eyes…
And what am I doing? Pouring my complaints onto you instead of pulling myself together.
Forgive me, Grace. Your mother is so pathetic…"
Grace looked at her mother and could not believe her eyes.
Her mother, who had always seemed the very image of resilience, was now completely broken and crying like a child.
Grace was at a loss.
Of course, she was upset too. It hurt her, and she felt bitter for her brother. But for some reason the tears would not come. Instead, a different feeling was rising in her chest.
Grace stepped closer to her mother, pressed her face against her chest in a familiar gesture, and quietly whispered a few words. At those words, a shiver ran down Catherine's spine and her heart leapt into her throat.
"Mom, I want revenge."
Grace was a sweet and kind soul, but even she had a reverse side to her scales.
When her brother was injured, she had been too young to truly understand what was happening. Back then, she had been filled only with fear. But now she had changed...
She had grown up and come to understand the suffering Grey had faced. He was a helpless cripple in a world where strength was the foundation of everything, in a world where everyone wished him harm. Her brother had done nothing wrong, yet he was treated as a dreadful monster destined to destroy the human race.
But Grace did not feel pain or sorrow for her brother. Those emotions had faded into the background and given way to simple rage. That rage smoldered inside the little girl, unable to find an outlet.
So Grace did what she had always done whenever she felt bad. She complained to her mother.
Her voice sounded childishly innocent, but behind those simple words there was nothing like a sweet request. Her thirst for revenge was so frightening that Catherine barely recognized her own daughter. And with those words, the dark feelings spilled into her heart as well.
'Why should my children and I suffer while the guilty live carefree?' Catherine thought. 'My son is slowly dying right before my eyes, and I can do nothing about it…
Why should I endure this mockery? If the whole world wants to take my child from me, then why should this world drag on its miserable existence?
I want to kill. Kill cruelly and without mercy. Kill until the gods themselves crawl to me on their knees, begging for mercy.
I am not a healer and not a saint. I am nothing more than an ordinary mother. A mother who craves revenge.
Ahahaha, Apollo, oh Apollo, my sweet little god…
I want your death. I want to peel the skin from your body while you're still alive. I want you to scream the same way my boy screamed when they operated on him. I swear, I will reach you.'
Catherine crushed the teacup into dust.
Her laughter rang through the room, sharp and manic, as if rising from the abyss itself. It seemed she had finally lost her mind.
"Hee-hee-hee… Mom," Grace suddenly spoke, her smile twisting as rainbow light flared in her eyes. "You should try your best. Because I'll reach him first."
===========
{Somewhere far away in an unknown space beyond the borders of Eridania.}
In the central district of Olympus, where the most powerful gods resided, stood a mansion so magnificent it could take one's breath away. From this secluded residence, moans and sobs mixed with loud slaps of flesh against flesh rang out again and again.
Inside his residence, Apollo was enjoying the best time of his life.
The man hailed as the most beautiful in the world was, at this very moment, entering the firm rear of the goddess of Truth from behind.
Veritas was on all fours, allowing her body to be used. She moaned loudly, taking his furious thrusts. The dignified and exalted goddess behaved like a wanton slut, which was exactly what she was.
"Yes, yes, my sweet boy!" she cried. "Give me more. Pierce your nurse harder, tear me apart!"
Hearing the pleas of the woman who had raised him, Apollo moved his hips with even greater fervor. He fucked her like an animal, yet he did not forget to attend to his second companion. She was Eucleia, the goddess of Glory.
Without stopping his movements, he pulled Eucleia into his embrace and seized her tempting lips. Her little tongue responded eagerly, actively exploring Apollo's mouth. The Sun God could physically feel his reputation rising continuously from that kiss.
But that was not enough. His gaze was captured by her beautiful breasts. Those enormous sacks of flesh swayed from side to side in rhythm with the motion.
Succumbing to lust, Apollo latched onto her pink nipples.
At that moment he was at the peak of his enjoyment of life. He stood at the summit. He was the most beautiful, the most desired, and the most famous man in the world.
Feeling his orgasm approaching, he slapped Truth across the buttocks while savoring the heights of Glory. The bliss and poetry of the moment overwhelmed him completely.
Just as he was ready to fill his companion with his divine essence, he felt a shiver run down his spine. A sense of inevitable danger seized his entire being, flushing all the euphoria and intoxication away in an instant.
Apollo suddenly froze, his movements cut short. Instantly he assumed a defensive stance, pressing the bodies of the goddesses against himself like shields of flesh.
But the sticky feeling of danger did not disappear.
The instincts of the gods were no joke. If he sensed a threat, then it meant life or death. No matter how carefree Apollo usually was, he loved his life and understood clearly that this was not the time for frivolous games.
His golden eyes darted around while his sharpened senses worked at their limit. He could hear the beating of the goddesses' hearts, the crackling of torches on the walls, even the rustle of birds' wings far beyond the villa, yet he could not catch the source of the threat. With every passing moment the tension only grew.
"L-let go, you're hurting me!"
He did not care about the goddesses' protests. He squeezed their slender bodies so hard that they gasped in pain and cried out in outrage, yet he had no intention of releasing them. These women would make the best barrier between him and the unknown danger.
In the end, Apollo still could not detect any enemies nearby. He reached a simple conclusion: one of the gods might have learned about his little amusements, and that could bring him trouble.
The thought was unpleasant and could easily turn into a scandal, so he shoved the goddesses away and left them behind, both furious and humiliated.
But the fear did not disappear.
On the contrary, it troubled him more and more.
He had to find out immediately where the source of the threat was coming from.
========
A little boy ran aimlessly through the snow-covered forest.
Salty drops fell from his eyes, leaving a barely visible trail of escape upon the snow.
Could it have been different? Could the operation have succeeded?
He knew Celine had done everything she could. He knew his mother, his sister, and all the others still believed in his recovery. But he no longer believed. He did not want to believe. It hurt too much, and the bitterness was too great.
Could he blame them? Of course not.
He felt helpless and shattered. No matter how hard he tried, everything he did was doomed to fail. His very existence was considered a taboo. So why should he keep trying again and again?
There was only one thing he wanted: to run away. Run away from everything. From the problems. From his family, whose gazes always reflected helplessness, disappointment, and pain. If only he could have been born normal...
He understood that his thoughts were wrong, that he should be strong and not give in to despair.
But how could he bear all the expectations placed upon him?
Reaching the depths of the forest, to a place he had never been before, Grey stopped and looked around, checking if anyone had followed him. He did not want anyone to see him like this. He feared disappointing his loved ones even more if they noticed his weakness and tears.
Pity reminded him of his helplessness. Comfort only emphasized that he was different.
He wanted to be alone.
Walking further and further, he dissolved into the forest's silence. Branches creaked under the gentle wind, snow crunched beneath his feet. Soon, a small slope appeared ahead, about seven meters high. Grey climbed to the top and froze just a step from the edge.
The boy closed his eyes, trying to catch his breath. His breathing grew more and more ragged—not from exhaustion, but from the bitter emotions choking him from within. His thoughts tangled and tore at each other, and among them, a treacherous whisper grew louder and more insistent: "Take one more step…"
Grey lowered his gaze to the bracelet on his wrist, strung with fifteen colorful beads.
"Mom… Grace… Cassia… Kaguya… Aunt Albedo… Grandpa Ma… Jack… Cornelia…"
His fingers moved over the beads one by one. Each name carried its own weight, its own significance to him.
His breathing grew heavier, and his heart thudded so loudly it felt as if it might burst from his chest.
Should he go on? Should he keep causing pain to everyone he loved? Or would it be better to end it all once and for all?
He knew it would make everyone sad. But maybe it was better to rip off the bandage quickly and cleanly?
"A good person must care for those close to them, even if that care brings them great pain," the words of his mother floated into his mind, spoken after her parting with Kaguya.
At that moment, Cassia restrained herself with all her strength, refusing to step out of the boy's shadow. She so desperately wanted to stop him, to hold him and offer comfort. But she did not dare move.
She would never allow him to commit such a foolish act, yet right now she hesitated.
She wanted him to make the right choice on his own. She knew that if she interfered now, Grey would never forgive her. So Cassia decided to wait until the very last moment. She watched his every movement like a hawk stalking its prey. She was ready at any instant to save the young master.
After all, she aspired to be the perfect servant. And a perfect servant knows how to act in the best interest of their master.
One of the boy's feet was already lifted when he felt something tug at his sleeve.
Grey turned, expecting to see someone from the village. But before him stood only a small creature, its fur almost blending into the snow. Calling its appearance merely pitiful would have been an exaggeration.
A tiny white fox had bitten Grey's sleeve and planted its feet, trying to pull him back.
The fox was so thin that every bone was visible. Its fur stuck out in clumps, matted and dirty. Its eyes were dull and lifeless, its nose dry and cracked. The little creature seemed utterly exhausted.
And yet it clung tightly to Grey's shirt, using all its strength to drag him away from the edge. Its paws trembled from the cold, its mouth bled from the effort.
One might wonder why such a fragile life would care for someone else. It should have been searching for food, saving energy to survive. Yet stubbornly, it was saving him.
The eyes of the two pitiful beings met.
The fox seemed to say: "So what if I'm weak? Little idiot, didn't I just save your life? Don't you dare look down on me!"
"Ha-ha-ha," little Grey laughed self-deprecatingly, a flicker of relief lifting his mood.
Looking straight into the fox's life-beaten eyes, he saw his own reflection there. A little boy—sickly and thin, yet cared for and fed. Against the fox's fragile state, his own fate seemed unexpectedly fortunate.
Did he have any right to feel wronged when he had a loving family and a roof over his head? So what if he couldn't grow like others? Did that diminish the love of those close to him? Wasn't their love enough to live a happy life?
Yes, he would remain mortal forever.
But he could still see Grace grow up. He would witness her bright successes, walk her to the wedding altar. He could still enjoy his mother's caring smile, the taste of good food shared with family.
How many more happy moments lay ahead of him? How many holidays would he celebrate? What right did he have to feel defeated, for God's sake?
"Thank you, little fox," Grey whispered with a smile, setting his foot back on the slope.
His smile was light, carefree, as if he had just seen the world anew.
The boy's laughter, full of freedom and relief, rang through the forest, breaking the frozen winter silence.
He had fully come to terms with himself, accepted his condition, and decided to move forward. It was as if an invisible weight had fallen from his shoulders. There was no longer responsibility, sorrow, or worry. There was only one thing left—enjoying every moment of the life that had been given to him.
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I apologize for the delay in releasing the chapters. I poured a lot of effort into this one, trying to make it as emotionally powerful as possible. I hope you enjoy it.
To everyone who has read my book up to this chapter, I strongly encourage you to leave a rating for the book and write a detailed review on the main page of the site.
Your feedback is crucial for promoting the book through algorithms and for keeping me motivated. Thank you so much for continuing to follow Grey's story.