"!"
As Soren read the information, his eyes almost popped out of their sockets.
'T-This...'
His breath caught in his throat. While the words hung suspended in his vision, each line drove a dagger straight into his chest.
'97% core destruction... 4% functional pathways... Chronic pain level 8 out of 10... Constant...'
'This...'
'This is too terrifying!'
Although he had fully expected her to be in poor health based on the rumors surrounding her paralysis, the sheer magnitude of her internal devastation proved that his prior assumptions were entirely inadequate. He had mentally prepared himself for the reality of a crippled partner, yet the catastrophic metrics displaying the ruin of her mana core revealed a level of suffering that was vastly different from anything he could have anticipated.
And that line...
'Broken Will - Suicidal Ideation - Resigned to Death...'
Soren's hand clenched into a fist on his knee.
'She isn't quiet because she's cold. She's quiet because she's already given up!'
He thought back to every interaction since they'd met. The silence, the profound emptiness in her eyes, and the way she flinched from his touch without fighting back all made sense now. Even the way she had muttered the word 'alone' sounded like it was the only word that mattered to her.
She...
She wasn't just rejecting him.
She was rejecting life itself.
And...
'8 to 14 months...'
The timeline echoed in his mind.
If he did nothing, if he just went through the motions of this arranged marriage, Ethea Morvain, no, Ethea Velmere, would be dead within a year.
And... Her family probably knew.
Yet... They dumped her here anyway.
"..." Soren's jaw tightened.
He looked at her lying on the bed, her face turned toward the ceiling, tracking the shallow, uneven rhythm of her breathing. He speculated that she was probably thinking he was far too occupied with his own sudden awakening to pay attention, assuming that her subtle distress would remain completely hidden from his view.
But he noticed everything anyway.
He silently observed her fingers twitch at irregular intervals from involuntary spasms of her damaged nerves, just as he noted the rigid tension in her shoulders that never fully relaxed against the mattress. Furthermore, despite her attempts to appear indifferent, he clearly saw that she had not closed her eyes even once since the moment he came back into the bedroom.
She was in pain.
Constant, unending pain.
And...
She was enduring it all alone.
'Like she's been enduring everything alone.'
Unfortunately, he didn't know how to fix her core or how to heal her severed pathways, but he knew one thing with absolute certainty. He had promised to protect her, and protection didn't just mean stopping assassins. It meant keeping her alive, preventing her from slipping away into that darkness she was already halfway consumed by.
But to achieve that, he needed money, power, and connections. And the only way to get those assets was to become stronger and use everything at his disposal to the fullest. Thankfully, he now had the tools and the path, meaning all he needed was time.
Time to grow, time to learn, and time to become strong enough to save her.
Eight to fourteen months...
No, he had at most five or six months.
Soren nodded to himself as his gaze swept over the overlay one final time, intending to commit every detail to memory before dismissing the screen.
Instead, he froze.
His eyes locked onto a blurry line that he had almost missed during the initial shock of reading her status.
'...!'
As he focused on the obscured text, his blood ran cold.
'A... A curse?!'
He stared back at the heavily redacted text, focusing on the blacked-out name and the ominous grade rating accompanying it.
'...Eighth Circle curse?'
That... That was almost at the peak of power.
The kind of curse that could only be laid by someone standing at the top of the world.
'Then...'
'Was the incident back then... not a coincidence?'
The thought hit him like a physical blow.
Soren's mind raced, pieces clicking together faster than he could process.
The Gate incident six months ago. The one that had crippled the Ice Empress. The one that everyone called a tragic accident, a freak occurrence, the unpredictable nature of the anomaly.
But...
What if it wasn't?
What if someone had engineered the whole thing?
An Eighth Circle curse didn't appear just by accident.
Either someone paid for it, or someone at the Eighth Circle or above did it personally.
And maybe...
'Maybe her family also found out about it and decisively chose to abandon her. After all, the enemy was too high for them to handle.'
He highly doubted that they had even attempted to investigate the matter.
Why would they? Investigating meant risking conflict with an Eighth Circle powerhouse. Fighting meant possibly losing everything. But abandoning one crippled daughter? That was an easy choice that cost them nothing but her life.
'...Cowards.'
Soren took a deep breath and let out a slow sigh, deciding not to think about them and focus on the issue.
Unfortunately, he couldn't see the curse's origin or its specific name, which might have given him a vital clue to work with. Having a concrete name or a definitive direction would at least provide something to point him toward the enemy.
Or maybe...
Maybe it was better not to know for now.
After all, knowing too much was a problem, too.
Like, what if the enemy behind this was watching?
What if they had eyes on this house, on Ethea, or on anyone who got too close?
If he suddenly started asking questions, digging into things he shouldn't know yet...
He might lead them back to him, back to her.
Soren's eyes narrowed.
If so... then he had to be careful.
Extremely so.
Because they could come back to finish the job if they noticed anything wrong.
Or...
'Maybe they already did?'
The terrifying scene from moments ago crossed his mind again, forcing his thoughts back to the assassin and the descending blade.
His blood ran cold again as he weighed the possibilities, wondering whether the attack was merely a coincidental home invasion or the opening move by the architect of her curse, returning to ensure the job was finished properly.
No, that assumption was foolish; the timing was far too precise for this to be a mere coincidence, making it highly likely that the attack was indeed a targeted strike.
Yet... If an elite powerhouse truly stood behind this operation, the sheer incompetence of the attempt raised a troubling paradox. Why would an enemy capable of deploying an Eight Circle curse send such a weak, easily overpowered assassin to finalize a high-profile execution?
Furthermore, the intruder's immediate flight after a single failed blow made very little tactical sense, especially since a determined killer would have fought through the resistance rather than fleeing into the night without securing the kill.
'Urgh...'
A sharp headache began to throb behind his temples as he tried to untangle the messy web of contradictions, even thinking the assailant might have been sent by an opportunistic rival faction, an enemy, or an entirely separate force rather than the original mastermind.
'...'
Soren looked back at Ethea, squinting slightly in the bedroom's dim light.
While his rational mind desperately wanted to believe the incident was entirely random, that it was just a burglar who happened to pick the wrong house on the wrong night, his instincts refused to accept such an easy lie. The reality of their situation was far more dangerous. Deep down, he knew the absolute truth of what this encounter represented.
This clumsy attempt on her life was just the beginning.
It was merely the tip of a massive iceberg, and somewhere beneath the dark surface of high society, a terrifying force was waiting to pull them both under.
'...Hmm.'
Soren took another deep breath and closed his eyes, forcing the mounting dread into a corner of his mind.
'When the time comes...'
'...I'll have to be ready.'
'For her.'
'And for myself.'