TuxedoTranslations

Chapter 26

The vivid images in his mind had faded, but the impersonator could not pull himself out of the grief that enveloped him.

The intensity of this emotion was unprecedented for him, and each moment of it deeply affected him. He still felt as if his heart were being tightly gripped, haunted by fear, helplessness, sorrow, and bitterness—feelings he had never known before.

The child in the vision… Was it Albin? Why did he know that child? When could those memories have originated? He pondered deeply.

For someone whose every day was uneventful and unremarkable, he rarely retained anything in memory. He lived in a state of semi-amnesia, only sifting through recollections when necessary—if he found something, he used it; if not, it hardly mattered.

Yet, such overwhelming emotions couldn’t have been forgotten so easily. Searching his mind, he suddenly recalled—it might be the memory of a fragmented soul that had recently reintegrated with him.

The fragmented soul had sealed its memories before merging back. Although he was aware of this, he never gave it much thought and had even forgotten why he had severed part of his soul in the first place.

In his assumptions, the fragmented soul’s memories were likely as dull as his own—banal days, insignificant whether remembered or not.

But when that vision surfaced, he realized the fragmented soul’s memories might not have been so mundane after all.

He tried to delve into the memories of the fragmented soul but had to withdraw almost instantly.

It was too overwhelming.

The flood of emotions shook his very soul, almost dragging him into their depths.

“Your emotions are surprisingly rich,” Zeman sneered at the black-haired youth before him, who alternated between emanating killing intent and spacing out.

Initially, Zeman had perceived it as provocation. He sensed the young man’s murderous intent and immense strength—likely surpassing even the strongest priests he had encountered, a rare and formidable opponent. Zeman’s long-dormant battle spirit had been stirred.

Yet, just as their fight began, the boy zoned out, instantly quelling Zeman’s excitement.

He was increasingly convinced this person was connected to the Temple of Night.

Everyone knew the Temple of Wine was full of lunatics, and the Temple of Night housed lunatics of a different sort.

Even the two more amicable temples frequently clashed; the temples with inherently poor relations, even more so.

Other stereotypes included: the Temple of the Sun was full of control freaks, and the Temple of Love was plagued by obsessive maniacs.

Although Zeman wasn’t interested in such matters, he had spent years in the Temple of the Sun, which was sworn enemies with the Temple of Night, and had heard much about them.

The black-haired youth seemed to remember him then, snapping out of his daze.

Upon seeing Zeman, he recalled Albin’s attitude toward this man in his dream.

Once again, a sour and unpleasant emotion welled up within him—stronger than before.

Although he hadn’t fully accessed the fragmented soul’s memories, he had already started seeing that child as his younger brother.

Given this, the “father” role he had assumed became unnecessary.

“If I killed you, Albin’s smile would disappear, wouldn’t it?” The black-haired youth contemplated seriously, suppressing the killing intent stirring within him.

He didn’t want that child’s smile to vanish. Since Albin smiled when interacting with Zeman, he reluctantly decided to endure—for now.

Zeman gave him a peculiar look.

It felt oddly like seeing one’s own cat sneaking out and causing trouble.

Although Albin was his son, what gave this guy the right to act so familiar?

Come to think of it, this person had initially been drawn to Albin and had been observing him secretly. Not long ago, he had even intended to replace him.

Zeman regarded the youth with a wary and disdainful gaze.

The black-haired youth seemed indifferent.

“I noticed from the demonic energy you’re emanating that you carry a heavy curse—one placed directly by a god. Which god did you offend?”

Unlike diluted curses that had weakened over generations, Zeman’s curse was pure and immensely powerful, surpassing even those of the primordial demons.

The fact that Zeman could maintain a human form under such a curse demonstrated his extraordinary strength.

Zeman replied coldly, “It’s none of your concern.”

The black-haired youth’s gaze remained neutral. He had no intention of persuasion; he wasn’t a meddler by nature.

“It doesn’t matter. Just kill that god to break the curse. Make sure your demonic transformation doesn’t frighten Albin,” he said flatly.

If not for Albin, he wouldn’t even have mentioned the matter.

Zeman frowned, his expression growing more complex.

Who was truly Albin’s father?

He scrutinized the youth cautiously.

This person seemed to understand curses deeply, even discerning their potency. He spoke of killing gods as though it were trivial.

Such casualness was entirely out of place on this continent. No human, nor demon, could so easily say such things.

Yet, it was precisely this attitude that made Zeman see him in a different light.

Neither fully human nor entirely demon, Zeman, for the first time, encountered someone who did not belong to either side—like himself.

However… what the youth said wasn’t possible.

The Sun God was already dead, having cursed Zeman in his final moments.

Zeman’s brows furrowed. “I’ve already killed the Sun God. His vessel and divine form burned to ashes, yet the curse remains.”

“The Sun God?” The black-haired youth raised his head slightly.

This wasn’t an ordinary deity but one of the three Supreme Gods—the Sun God.

“I see…” he murmured thoughtfully, recalling something.

“For you to achieve that is remarkable. But the records of mortals likely don’t capture his true nature,” he said, voice calm. “The Sun God, outwardly the most righteous and honorable, was in truth the most insidious and cowardly—terrified of death. He must have prepared a failsafe.”

“His failsafe… was likely a fragmented soul. Even if you destroyed his main body, a part of his soul remains somewhere. However, with his main body gone, the fragmented soul would be severely weakened. He won’t appear before you anytime soon.”

Zeman’s eyes narrowed.

Based on the Sun God’s massacre to cover his tracks, if the god learned of Albin’s connection to him, he would undoubtedly target the child.

The image of Albin’s innocent smile filled Zeman’s mind. Clenching his fists tightly, his expression turned as cold as ice.

He wouldn’t let the Sun God harm anyone close to him again.

“How many fragments?” he asked, his voice like a winter storm.

“Only one.”

“Then I’ll kill him again,” Zeman declared without hesitation.

The black-haired youth tilted his head, observing him.

Zeman stood amidst the charred ruins, his crimson eyes like blood reflecting the moonlight. The sharp killing intent emanating from him seemed capable of even slicing the light.

“The Sun God fears death, yet you are the one who brought it to him. To instill fear in a god and aim to slay him twice… This could be called arrogance, no?”

Although his words seemed critical, there was no mockery in his tone. Instead, his gaze held a hint of newfound respect as he regarded Zeman.

“Arrogant Godslayer, tell me your name.”

“Zeman.”

Zeman returned a question, though it wasn’t about the youth’s name. “Will you protect Albin?”

He didn’t fully trust what this man said yet, but he couldn’t ignore the possibility.

If the Sun God were truly alive, Edward and the Temple of Love alone wouldn’t suffice to protect Albin.

This person, who understood gods and demons and wielded exceptional power, might be the key.

“I will,” the youth answered without hesitation.

“I once promised his mother I’d protect him as an older brother.”

It was a long-forgotten memory, one he had entrusted to a fragment of his soul. Now, the word “brother” brought it back.

At that time, he had been living a monotonous life, much like now, sometimes spacing out for an entire day.

And on that particular day, he had been conversing with a woman with crimson eyes.

He had spoken in confusion: “Recently, someone said they wanted to be my lover.”

The woman, biting into a red apple, brightened with interest. “And how do you feel about that? It’s rare for someone to be bold enough to say that—did it move you? Want me to be your love advisor? I’ve got plenty of experience!”

“I killed that person,” he replied, frowning. “I don’t understand what kind of emotion ‘love’ is, but I can tell when someone’s lying. Why is it that I’ve studied emotions in books, yet I still can’t comprehend or match them? What does joy feel like? Or anger?”

“These things aren’t something you can understand by reading or hearing about them,” the woman replied, finishing her apple and cleaning her hands. “You need to experience them for yourself. Honestly, in your current state, finding a lover might not work out so well. How about getting a family member instead?”

“Family?”

The woman stood up, hands on her hips, smiling brightly. “I actually came today to share some good news—I’ve decided to become a mother! I’m having a child~”

He looked curiously at her seemingly unchanged abdomen, realizing that a new life was growing there.

Such a wondrous power.

“This is my first time seeing someone pregnant.”

Not only had he never seen a pregnant woman, but he’d rarely seen children at all.

The woman chuckled softly. “So, how about it? Would you like to be my child’s older brother?”

He lowered his gaze. “I don’t know what an older brother is supposed to do.”

“Hmm, well, being a big brother means protecting your younger siblings and being their support… but there’s no standard rule. Why not try finding your own answer? Being a unique kind of big brother could be interesting.”

Family… By becoming family, could he understand emotions?

His amethyst-like eyes reflected emptiness as he pondered deeply before nodding. “Protecting, huh… I can try.”

He looked at her abdomen again, imagining a younger sibling of his own growing inside.

What would they be like? Would they have red eyes too? How big would a child be? Would they be afraid of him?

Many questions arose in his mind, not the usual confusion that left him lost, but a lighthearted curiosity.

For the first time, he found himself curious about a new life.

“Have you chosen a name?”

“Not yet. I’ve thought of a lot of names,” the woman said, her gaze shifting to the ever-present snow in the distance. Suddenly inspired, she added, “Albin would be a good name—it means ‘pure white.’ White represents purity and innocence, which I love. But I’ve also thought of other good names.”

She sighed in slight frustration. “I guess I’ll let the kid choose when the time comes.”

Reaching into the fruit basket, she grabbed another apple.

He began to think of names as well but found himself unable to come up with any good ones.

After a moment, he suddenly realized something. “You just want to be my mother.”

The woman winked at him playfully.

“Ha! You caught me. Adopting a sibling and becoming a mom—such a good deal, don’t you think?”

“But I’m older than you,” he said, his appearance resembling that of a beautiful youth.

“That’s not the point,” she waved dismissively. “The point is, from now on, you’re my good eldest son!”

—

His memory ended there. Though he said nothing to Zeman, the latter chose to trust him after scrutinizing him for a while.

Regarding Albin, they shared an unspoken understanding, needing no words.

The black-haired youth said to him, “You can call me Moon.”

“I see.”

Zeman turned and left. Just before exiting the castle, he said in an offhand tone, “Albin has seen my demonic form. He likes it a lot.”

It was in response to Moon’s earlier warning not to scare Albin with his demonic appearance.

But Moon didn’t take it as a mere reply.

Even someone as emotionally unaware as him could sense the smugness in Zeman’s words—a smugness that was irritating.

Irritating.

Moon etched that feeling into his memory.

With a deafening collapse, the already dilapidated castle crumbled entirely. His rare frustration startled the crows into flight, their mournful, hoarse cries emphasizing his solitude.

Moon decisively lay back in his coffin, starting to process the memories laden with strong emotions.

–

The next morning, Albin slowly woke up.

Seeing the white-haired man standing by his bed, just like in his dreams, the groggy boy grew even more confused.

“Which dad are you?” he asked.

A chill immediately emanated from Zeman.

He asked gloomily, “How many dads do you have?”

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