TuxedoTranslations

Chapter 33

The room had faint traces of blood scattered about. Zeman stared fixedly at the black-haired figure hunched over Albin’s shoulder, faintly visible as it lowered its head to feed. The crimson fire of uncontrollable rage surged in his eyes, as though a blazing inferno was about to ignite in his heart.

On the bed lay a finely crafted raven-feather coat, and he recognized that pale, weakened black-haired figure as Moon.

That enigmatic and powerful figure—one with whom he shared an unusual resonance.

Precisely because of this, his anger burned hotter. His emotions tangled in fury and pain.

This rage was directed at Moon—and at himself.

He had been too arrogant.

He had trusted someone he never should have trusted, invited a wolf into his home, and let Albin pay the price for his recklessness.

He remembered last night’s vivid dream—how the white-haired boy’s body had been covered in wounds.

It felt like a warning… or perhaps an omen.

An omen that somewhere beyond his sight, the child he cherished would be dragged into the abyss by those vile creatures.

Zeman’s gaze turned icy as he began channeling the endless stream of dark energy within his consciousness, converting it back into magic. The powerful spells he once wielded so easily now surged forth once more.

Previously, he had been unable to use magic due to a curse—stripped of his power—but after enduring so many forced bouts of corruption, he had not remained helpless.

If cursed energy was simply distorted magic, then theoretically, he could reverse that transformation—and he had succeeded.

The array of magic formations spreading around him now was proof of that.

With wind magic propelling his steps—light yet steady—Zeman stepped into the room, a terrible white flame flickering in his hand.

Simultaneously, golden chains of light rapidly spread throughout the room, enclosing the space in an inescapable barrier. Black mist-like dark magic coiled around the room’s edges, forming a concealed illusion that would mask whatever happened inside from the outside world.

Despite being a Holy Son of the Sun Temple, Zeman’s affinity with all elements allowed him to master dark magic as well.

“Dad?” Albin peered over Moon’s shoulder, calling out with surprise and joy.

Wow, so much magic! Dad in the dream is amazing!

But… why did this dream-dad look so menacing?

Albin’s mind buzzed with confusion.

A silky blue water ribbon spiraled around Albin, coiling softly as it lifted him away from Moon.

Seeing this, Moon clenched the water ribbon tightly. Frost instantly spread, freezing the water solid before shattering it into glittering ice crystals mid-air.

“You’re taking my brother away from me?” Moon sneered coldly, slashing his pitch-black scythe upward. The scythe cut through the restrictive magic above, and with a swift tug, he pulled Albin back into his arms.

His immense magic flared in response, clashing violently with Zeman’s power.

The two locked eyes, their gazes filled with hostility and distrust—a chilling tension crackling between them.

Without warning, an invisible force stormed through the room, their colliding magic creating an intense pressure that seemed to shake the entire world. The very air was squeezed thin, suffocatingly so.

Albin felt the tension rising. His heart pounded as though a battle was about to erupt.

Then—he sneezed.

Cold magic always seemed to make the room chillier than it already was.

The two men, locked in a deadly standoff, paused in unison, both turning to stare at him.

Moon hurriedly grabbed a blanket and wrapped Albin tightly, nearly swaddling him into a bundle.

Zeman stepped forward to help tuck in the blanket, conjuring warm flames that sent soothing heat rolling through the room. The once-chilly air turned warm and pleasant.

Poking his tousled head from the covers, Albin blinked in confusion at his father and brother flanking him on either side.

“You two looked like you were about to fight… Dad, why are you angry? This is my brother, Moon. He’s not a bad person.”

Moon tilted his chin slightly, as if proud of the title ‘brother.’

Zeman’s stern gaze softened when he looked at Albin. He inspected the boy’s neck carefully, relieved to find no injuries and no sign of distress.

Yet Zeman’s thoughts drifted to that foolish white-haired boy—hurt and yet oblivious to the wrong that had been done to him.

His voice turned firm and cold as he warned the still-young child before him:

“Remember this—never let anyone hurt you. Always protect yourself.”

“Of course!” Albin nodded enthusiastically. “I’m not stupid.”

Who would just sit there and let someone hurt them?

Zeman’s expression grew complicated. He glanced briefly at the dazed-looking Moon, then asked, “Then what exactly was he doing just now?”

Albin recalled how he’d willingly let his brother drink his blood—and suddenly felt guilty. His gaze darted nervously.

Before he could answer, Moon calmly spoke up:

“My brother let me drink his blood.”

Albin jolted, staring at him in disbelief.

Brother! Why are you ratting me out?!

“Oh?” Zeman’s gaze sharpened, fixing Albin with a look that clearly said You foolish little idiot.

Albin muttered defensively, “But he’s my brother! He didn’t mean any harm…”

“It doesn’t matter who he is—you must never let anyone hurt you.”

Moon chimed in, “That goes for any unknown ‘father’ as well.”

Despite his dislike for Moon, Zeman couldn’t argue with that.

Thinking of that white-haired boy in the dream, trading himself away without hesitation, Zeman’s chest tightened with pain.

He gently ruffled Albin’s hair, voice low and heavy.

“Even if it’s me—you can’t let me hurt you either.”

Albin blinked up at him in confusion.

Weren’t they about to fight just now? Why are they suddenly teaming up to lecture me?

This is just a dream, right? Why am I being scolded in my dream?!

He protested, “But that wasn’t really harm… I thought my brother was a vampire and didn’t want him to hurt others, so I let him drink my blood. I was trying to help him.”

That wasn’t hurting himself, was it?

His face was full of confusion.

Zeman’s expression hardened.

“No.” His voice was cold and firm. “Even if it’s to help someone, you mustn’t hurt yourself.”

Albin pouted, feeling wronged.

He just wanted to help his brother—what was so bad about that?

But Moon’s gaze darkened, and he couldn’t help recalling that tragic car accident.

His foolish brother had died saving him.

This little boy—so afraid of pain—had still bled so much that day.

This little boy—so timid—had risked everything without hesitation.

His own soul fragment would have merely returned to his original form… yet if not for his brother’s special nature, he might never have seen him again.

For a long time, Moon had believed that.

That agony still lingered, making him treasure this new chance with all his being.

He feared more than anyone else that this was just a dream.

If this truly were a dream, he would willingly abandon his divinity, sink into it, and never wake up.

Moon gazed at Albin’s face—full of grievance yet completely unaware of any wrongdoing—and spoke softly, “I’m very scared.”

“Whenever I think about you getting hurt, bleeding, or being in pain because of me, I feel an overwhelming sense of guilt and regret. Losing you would be more painful than death.”

He slowly voiced these emotions—emotions he had never before experienced.

But if possible, he didn’t want his brother’s death to be the price that taught him this.

His deep violet eyes fixed intently on Albin. Though he wasn’t good at expressing himself, his gaze seemed to bare the deepest emotions hidden within his heart.

“I don’t fear death… but I’m terrified of you getting hurt.”

“I… I…” Albin suddenly found himself unable to speak.

He knew Moon was referring to that car accident. Yet even now, he didn’t regret his choice.

He just felt a little heavy-hearted.

The brother standing before him was a dream. So what about his real brother—the one still living in his past life? What was he thinking now?

He had told his brother not to be sad. Would his brother really keep that promise?

The thought of his real brother grieving over his death made Albin feel even sadder.

Zeman sighed lightly and asked, “Why must you hurt yourself just to help others?”

In a small voice, Albin replied, “Because that’s what I can do.”

And it’s useful.

No matter what, he had saved his brother in the car accident, saved Margo at the Wine God’s temple… and saved… His thoughts stuttered. He vaguely felt that he’d done something similar before—something successful—but he couldn’t quite remember what it was.

Regardless, to him, this was a method that had always worked. It was something simple and achievable for someone as young and powerless as he was.

If not this, what else could he do?

Zeman and Moon exchanged glances. They both realized Albin wouldn’t be easily convinced with a few words. A child’s stubbornness could be far more challenging than an adult’s.

It would take time to change his mindset.

Zeman’s expression turned helpless, and he sighed.

But when his gaze met Moon’s again, his wariness instantly returned.

Narrowing his eyes dangerously, Zeeman asked, “Albin, he still bit you just now, didn’t he?”

“Eh? No, no!” Albin shook his head furiously, like a little drum rattle. “Brother said he’s not a vampire.”

He added timidly, “Please don’t fight because of this…”

Zeman remained skeptical, eyeing Moon with a look that regarded him as an unwelcome guest. But he didn’t act.

Moon didn’t seem to care about Zeman’s suspicion. Instead, he invited him outside to talk.

Zeman nodded in agreement, but before their private conversation, they both ensured Albin was tucked in for the night.

Albin gazed at them reluctantly, sensing this was the signal that the dream was ending. Still, he obediently lay back down, though clearly unwilling.

“Good night, Dad. Good night, Brother. You both have to visit me often, okay?”

“We will. Good night,” they replied in unison.

After soothing Albin to sleep, they turned to face each other again, sparks of tension flickering in their eyes.

The golden chains sealing the room shattered and disappeared as the two stepped out one after the other.

Leaning against the wall, Zeman stared coldly at Moon.

“I will take care of Albin.”

He no longer intended to place full trust in Moon.

But based on what they’d discussed earlier, Moon believed Zeman’s words.

He trusted that Zeman was someone he could entrust with his brother’s safety.

He had called Zeman out only to share one vital warning.

“I have memories that I must recover as soon as possible. For now, I’ll leave Albin in your care.” His tone was reluctant, but his instructions were firm. “If you encounter a dragon-like monster, kill it without hesitation.”

He was certain Zeman had the strength to handle it.

In response to Zeman’s shocked expression, Moon’s voice turned cold, his expression grim as he explained, “Albin will die in the future—killed by a dragon.”

Though he hadn’t yet recalled the full manga plot, he had just retrieved the opening sequence from his fragmented soul’s memories.

And Fatum’s story began with Albin’s death.

That manga wasn’t ordinary. Unfortunately, since it was in black and white, he couldn’t tell what color the dragon was.

Was it white? Or some other pale shade?

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