Chapter 241
'The pallor is too even, not just from blood loss.
That's what unsettles me.'
"I knew someone like you would follow me wherever I went."
Fuuuuh!
"From the very first step, I felt it—ever since the journey back to my hometown.
And because your distance was far enough not to interfere, yet close enough to remain present, I had no intention of making an issue of it.
Still, I remain puzzled."
'Of course you are puzzled.
You allowed me to tail you without questioning it, but that doesn't mean you stopped thinking.
You want to know the reason.
Not out of suspicion—but because you are accustomed to understanding motives before accepting someone's presence.'
Silence fell once more, this time filled by Theo's gaze as it carefully analyzed every detail of Aldraya's suffering body.
The personal mentor's face was pale like wax, her color of life seemingly drained away by wounds that were not merely physical, but extended deep into the soul.
Yet what held Theo frozen was not the whiteness, but the stillness carved beneath it.
There was no scream, no cry of fear, not even a hiss of panic at the shadow of the angel of death clearly standing at the threshold.
Aldraya accepted the possibility of the end with quiet dignity, a passive courage that was far more stirring than any violent outburst.
Within that almost sacred silence, Theo read a different kind of strength, a steadfastness that could not be shattered by blades or vile intent.
Then, amid the dense stillness, Aldraya opened her mouth once more.
Her voice was weaker than before, yet each word carried startling clarity.
She revealed a hidden awareness, a realization that throughout her journey back to her hometown, there had always been a figure following at a careful distance, guarding her from behind the shadows of trees and winding roads.
Aldraya knew it was Theo.
And more surprising still, she admitted that she felt no need to object to that pursuit, a special tolerance she granted only to Theo Vkytor.
This admission was not an accusation, but an acceptance that sounded almost resigned, as though Theo's presence behind her was simply part of the natural order, not something requiring question.
Yet that acceptance did not entirely erase the lingering question in Aldraya's mind.
Beneath her calm, there remained a deep sense of wonder.
She still questioned the reason behind it all.
Why would Theo, with all his power and mystery, be willing to spend his time and energy tailing a personal mentor who should no longer have any formal ties to him?
Was it guilt, a sense of obligation that bound him, or something deeper still—something Aldraya herself could not yet unravel in her current, mortal condition?
The question hung between them, unspoken yet tangible, like the cavern walls surrounding them.
"No wonder people call you an overly perceptive freezer.
Cold on the outside, yet catching the smallest things others don't even realize they've leaked."
Shaaaaah!
"I won't deny it.
I did follow you.
From the very beginning of your journey, to the very end.
Including the moment you stopped for a while, turned away from the world, and did something even you yourself didn't realize.
Namely, you cried."
Theo closed his eyes briefly, a fleeting gesture that felt like an attempt to gather scattered thoughts, or perhaps to hide an emotion too quick to be caught.
When his eyelids opened again, he shook his head twice, a motion heavy with meaning, as though dismissing a shadow or acknowledging an undeniable truth.
Then his voice emerged, carrying a tone that blended admiration with honest bewilderment.
He remarked that it was no surprise Aldraya was called an overly perceptive freezer, a contradictory yet fitting metaphor for a surface calm that concealed extraordinary sensory awareness.
Without further preamble, Theo admitted it outright.
He openly confirmed that he had indeed followed every step of Aldraya's journey back to her hometown.
And his confession did not end there.
He continued with a deeper revelation, admitting that his surveillance had been so close and attentive that he had witnessed moments both intimate and unexpected.
With carefully chosen words, Theo hinted that he had seen Aldraya do something she herself would consider embarrassing.
The moment he referred to was when Aldraya, for the first time in Theo's memory, shed tears.
This admission was not meant to humiliate, but rather to demonstrate the depth of his observation and, perhaps, to acknowledge that he had touched the most vulnerable side of someone who always appeared as an unshakable fortress.
"Does it matter that much to you, Theo?
Following me, entering the imitation Heaven, and listening to every one of my conversations with Quil-Hasa.
Was it really necessary?"
"Of course."
"Everything you did in your hometown—yes, that HOMETOWN—was far too important to miss."
Fhhhhh!
"Every step, every choice, every prayer you uttered there—each of them is exceedingly valuable material, at least for this little yellow book of mine."
Aldraya's question cut sharply, striking straight to the heart of the matter with the remaining clarity of her mind amid the storm of wounds.
She challenged the urgency and necessity of Theo's extreme pursuit, even to the point of following her into the so-called imitation Heaven and attentively listening to every intimate conversation between Aldraya and the Creator, Quil-Hasa.
The question was not mere curiosity, but a demand for accountability for violating the most sacred boundaries of privacy.
In response, a smile spread across Theo's face.
It widened, revealing teeth that appeared unnaturally white under the cave's dim light, lingering for several seconds in a way that felt wrong.
His expression hovered at an unsettling threshold.
Too normal to be called horrifying, yet too eerie to be considered an ordinary smile.
Within its breadth lay an intensity that instantly shifted the atmosphere, as though the surrounding air grew colder and denser.
That smile was both shield and weapon, masking the complexity of motives behind his actions.
Then, with the smile still coiled on his lips, Theo answered.
His voice was clear, yet there was a distinct emphasis when he repeated the words "hometown," deliberately raising his intonation slightly, adding a nuance that sounded like subtle sarcasm or bitter mockery.
It was as though he were deriding the very concept of a hometown, discarding its naïve meaning in the face of the darker reality they had endured.
His answer sounded simple, yet riddled with implication.
Everything Aldraya did in that place was important.
To reinforce his point, Theo raised an object in his hand.
The yellow book that always accompanied him, an item that seemed like an extension of himself, was lifted into the air.
It rose no higher than Theo's eyes, as though he were presenting it to Aldraya as proof, as an altar where all those observations were recorded.
The book was not merely a record.
It was a repository, a silent witness, and perhaps even the ultimate purpose behind all his actions.
'Her breathing is too steady for someone who should be panicking.
Too neat. Too quiet.
That's not a good sign—that's the sign of someone holding the collapse of their world inside their own body.'
Fhhhhh!
To be continued…