Adam’s gaze drifted to Ignis, who had claid his lap as a pillow without asking permission. Her flas had dimd to a soft, rhythmic pulse, and her breathing was slow and even. She looked peaceful, the tension of the battle finally released.
Lilith knelt beside them, her silver-threaded gown pooling around her. Her fingers reached out, gently poking Ignis’s cheek. The drake’s brow furrowed, and she muttered sothing unintelligible, swatting at the air before settling back into sleep. Lilith poked again.
"Lilith," Adam said, his voice low, almost amused. "Let her sleep."
"She’s cute when she’s irritated," Lilith replied, not stopping. Her crimson eyes glead with mischief. "I’m simply... appreciating the view."
Adam let out a quiet sigh, shaking his head. Then his gaze shifted to Isolde, who sat a few feet away, her back against the cold stone wall, her knees drawn up to her chest.
"So that crown," Adam said, his voice thoughtful. "It really was an imitation of Gluttony."
Isolde let out a long, slow breath, her pale eyes fixed on the flickering shadows on the opposite wall. "Yes."
She paused, her fingers curling into the fabric of her cloak.
"Before you found it... the Crown of the Hollow Glutton was lost for ages. No one knew where it was. But that didn’t stop people from searching."
Adam’s brow furrowed, but he remained silent.
Isolde’s breath caught, her gaze dropping to the floor. "He was one of them."
She paused, gathering her thoughts.
"He searched for decades. Followed every rumor, every false trail. He spent fortunes on informants and years in libraries that had been forgotten for centuries. But he never found it. He ca close a few tis or believed he did. But always... nothing."
Her eyes moved to Adam’s face, and she held his gaze for a long mont.
"In the end, he gave up searching and started creating."
Lilith’s fingers stilled on Ignis’s cheek. Her voice was soft, curious. "He made the imitation himself?"
Isolde nodded. "He studied every text he could find about Gluttony. Its appearance, its abilities, the way it fed on souls. He learned to shape his own blood into sothing that mimicked it." A bitter smile touched her lips. "It took him years. Decades. But eventually, he succeeded. He called it the Crown of Thorns."
Adam’s internal voice was thoughtful. ’How strong is that person to be able to imitate a legendary artifact?’
"The power wasn’t the sa, of course," Isolde continued. "The real Gluttony consus souls to grow stronger. My father’s imitation could only manipulate blood and strengthen it to beco more deadly. But it was close enough. Close enough that he could pass the technique down to ."
Her pale eyes flickered to Adam’s face.
"He wanted to perfect it. To take his imitation and push it further, make it stronger, make it sothing that could rival the real artifact." Her voice cracked. "That’s what he always wanted. Not just power for himself, but a legacy. Sothing that would outlive him."
Lilith’s eyebrow rose. "And yet, when he saw Adam’s Crown... he didn’t seem surprised."
Isolde shook her head slowly. "That wasn’t really my father. It was a manifestation born from my fear. It could only know what I know, feel what I feel." She pulled her knees tighter against her chest. "The real Vladislav Draven would have reacted differently. He would have been... obsessed. He would have wanted to study it, to take it apart, to understand how it worked so he could improve his own creation."
Her voice dropped, barely audible.
"The manifestation... it wasn’t him. It was just... a shadow. A ghost wearing his face."
Adam’s eyes narrowed. "And you? What did you fear?"
Isolde was silent for a long mont. Her fingers curled into the fabric of her cloak.
"Not his obsession." Her voice was a whisper. "His disappointnt."
Adam’s expression softened slightly. He didn’t say anything, just waited.
Isolde’s throat bobbed.
"He was always... disappointed in ." Her voice cracked. "I wasn’t strong enough. I wasn’t dedicated enough. I didn’t want power the way he did. I didn’t want to rule, didn’t want to conquer, didn’t want to spend centuries perfecting a copy of an artifact he could never have."
She swallowed hard.
"I just wanted... I wanted him to look at and be proud. Just once."
Adam’s expression remained steady as Isolde’s words hung in the air. Her confession settled between them like a stone dropped into still water, the ripples spreading through the silence.
He reached out, his hand resting on her shoulder.
"You wanted him to be proud of you." His voice was quiet, almost gentle. "I understand. More than you think."
Isolde’s pale eyes flickered up to his. "You do?"
Adam’s lips pressed into a thin line. "My mother. The one who gave birth to in that dungeon." His voice was flat, but there was sothing beneath it, sothing old and carefully buried. "She was a giant snake. She didn’t care about . None of them did. I was just another hatchling."
He looked down at his hand, at the claws that could tear through steel.
"When I was strong enough, I killed her." His voice didn’t waver. "I ate her. That’s how I survived."
Isolde’s breath caught. Her pale eyes widened, but she didn’t look away.
"You... you ate your own mother?"
Adam shrugged, the motion stiff. "It’s not the sa as what you wanted from your father. But I know what it’s like to have a parent who doesn’t see you. Who only sees what you can give them." He fell silent for a breath, then continued. "I don’t lose sleep over killing her. She would have done the sa to if she’d had the chance."
Isolde was silent for a long mont. Then, slowly, she nodded.
"I suppose... we’re both monsters, then."
Adam’s lips curved into a faint, wry smile.
"Maybe. But at least we’re monsters who chose differently."
Lilith’s crimson eyes shifted toward the ceiling, her expression unreadable. Her fingers, still resting against Ignis’s cheek, paused mid-poke. "Parents," she said quietly, almost to herself. "They are always so... complicated."
Isolde let out a soft, bitter laugh. "Then my suffering is just as complicated." Her pale eyes, red-rimd from exhaustion, fixed on the flickering shadows. "It never ends."
Adam’s brow furrowed. He leaned forward slightly, his voice low and careful. "Earlier... you ntioned your father was going to sacrifice you. What did you an by that?"
Isolde’s composure cracked, just slightly. Her fingers curled into the fabric of her cloak, knuckles whitening.
"In the demon territory, there are noble families. Ruling houses. They’ve governed demon society for centuries, their power built on bloodlines and ancient pacts." She paused, her voice dropping. "My family... the Draven. We were one of them."
Lilith’s crimson eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Noble houses. I see."
Isolde nodded slowly.
"My father was one of the most zealous. He believed that only the strongest deserved to carry the Draven na."
Her voice dropped.
"When my mother left, he was... furious. Not because he loved her, but because she was from a powerful bloodline. He had married her for her blood, not for her." She swallowed hard. "When I was born, he saw as her replacent. A new source of pure blood to continue his legacy."
Adam’s crimson eyes darkened. "And the sacrifice?"
Isolde’s voice was barely a whisper.
"Every century, the noble families perform a ritual. They offer a sacrifice to renew their pacts with ancient powers, to ensure their bloodlines remain strong. Usually, it’s an animal. A powerful monster. Sotis a criminal."
She paused.
"My father wanted to offer ."
Lilith’s threads stirred, silver strands twitching with barely suppressed violence.
"He was going to kill you."
Isolde’s laugh was hollow. "Worse. He was going to bind my soul to the family’s ancient pact. I would have beco part of the ritual. Trapped for eternity, my life force drained to fuel the family’s power." She shook her head slowly. "That’s why I left. Not because I was afraid to die... but because I was afraid to beco nothing more than fuel for his ambition."
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