Seventy Seventh Seven

"Let's play, Sev."

With his left hand, Zachary raised his sword to chest level while his right hand scratched his already bloody neck. Beside him, Zachi barely lifted his sword past his knees, as though his hands were as unmotivated as the dull look in his eyes.

But their synergy was perfect—almost.

Zachi lost his balance momentarily as he shifted his weight. Zachary cursed him under his breath as he scratched his neck.

"Get your lazy ass well, Zachi. I'll—"

"Troublesome."

"You fu—"

As the twins were arguing, Seven recalled his memory to a few days prior, when Iria gave him a quick rundown about his siblings. She said that the twins were attending the academy that he will also attend after the ceremony.

He glanced at their wrist, and a bracelet-like tattoo glowed; the twins are at the peak of the first aura gate. 

"Should I…"

Fight them. Test the first form. But as much as he wanted to, he had a huge disadvantage. His fingers hovered to his grazed neck. His mind raced about Iria's scream.

He couldn't focus.

Slowly, he looked at the direction of his room again. But this time, a crimson hue scattered on the window pane.

Blood.

Thud.

His breathing hastened, and his heart pounded as it might burst out through his ribcage. He turned his gaze back to the twins who were now a meter away from him. The momentary distraction cost him.

"Where you starin' at, Sev?"

Seven instinctively raised his wooden sword to block it, but wood is no match against steel. It got cut in half, but it gave him a little time to dodge by a sidestep. But as he did, Zachi's sword grazed his legs. Pain flared, almost immediate, and he staggered back.

"Nice, Zachi!"

"Tch."

Zachary laughed. Leaning sidewards, he licked the blood on Zachi's sword.

Lick.

"Disgusting."

"Huh?! What—"

Zachi pulled his sword away, causing Zachary to frown and scratch his neck aggressively. This time, his collar was tainted red.

"You're disg—"

Thud.

Zachi fell. His knees buckled, and he hit the ground hard as his sword clattered beside him. 

Zachary stopped scratching his neck. Instead, he looked at Zachi's body with wide eyes. Then, seven seconds later, his blade slipped from his hand before he slumped to the ground.

Thud.

Seven immediately scanned the area. He immediately thought about Theia's Eye and his vision changed. He looked for movement, for any sign of another presence.

Nothing.

The beat of his heart was loud, but the training ground was ghost-quiet. Just the faint rustling of leaves whispered through the air as he spotted a silhouette on the horizon—the same figure he had seen when he first obtained the artifact.

In an instant, the training grounds vanished. 

He stood in a blank expanse, a void of endless nothingness. A void? A domain? An abyss? He couldn't name it. All he knew was that it was empty, save for him and the gentle ripples of water beneath his feet.

"Argh…"

His left eye began to burn. No, it tickled. No… it was something else. It was a sensation he couldn't put into words.

"Hah... Hah..."

The sensation intensified until the silhouette on the horizon turned and faced him.

Open.

A pair of eyes emerged from the darkness. It wasn't from the silhouette. It was a colossal pair of eyes hovering behind it.

The eyes of the void itself.

They fixated on him. His breath caught, and the silence of the void grew deafening. Then, as if tearing through reality, a system window flashed before him: 

[When you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes back into you.]

He stumbled back and his body moved on instinct as the silhouette took a step towards him.

Blink.

After he blinked his eyes again, the scene was gone. He was back on the training ground, standing before the lifeless bodies of the twins sprawled on the dirt.

"Hah… Hah…"

His hands were trembling. His knuckles whitened. And without hesitation, he rushed towards the mansion's entrance.

"What… was that…?"

After climbing the stairs to the second floor, Seven rushed to the far end of the hallway. Bloodstains streaked the floor near his door, and his stomach churned at the sight. When he reached the door, he exhaled in relief.

"It wasn't Iria."

But his unease lingered. A wolf pup, nailed to the door, hung lifelessly. It was the same pup that ate his eyeball in the forest. His chest tightened. Iria was probably inside. 

Creak.

He pushed the door open and found Iria on the floor, kneeling and crying. The moment she saw him, she scrambled to her feet, rushed into his arms, and clutched him tightly.

"Iria, what's—"

"I'm sorry, young lord. I promise I'll clean it... I'll take care of everything."

"Iria..." 

Gently, he gripped her shoulders and pushed her back slightly. He wanted to feel her embrace a little longer, but now wasn't the time, nor he could as he vowed not to get too close to anyone.

"What happened?"

His gaze flickered to the window. A crow lay dead on the sill, its wings spread awkwardly.

It wasn't just a crow. Upon closer inspection, he noticed an arrow lodged in its chest, traces of magic faintly glowing around the wound.

This wasn't an accident.

It was intentional.

Seven's brow furrowed. His siblings couldn't use magic—none of them except Eden. Either her... or someone from the Havin household within the Seventh Kingdom, a family renowned for their mastery of magic. The complete opposite of Harts.

But then, he shook his head. Eden wouldn't do this.

"Iria, go tell Father about this."

"But young lord—"

"I'll handle the rest. Don't worry."

"Young lord, how can you—"

"Iria."

She froze at his firm tone, then nodded reluctantly. But before leaving, she gave him another quick hug.

"I'll be back." 

She hurried out the door.

Now alone, Seven traced the edge of his necklace with trembling fingers, his gaze fixed on the crow.

The arrow piercing its chest shimmered faintly, glowing an icy blue. Slowly, it began to melt, water pooling beneath the lifeless bird until it slid to the floor with a soft thud.

An ice arrow.

His mind raced. There was only one person known for wielding ice magic like this. Across the continent, she was hailed as the North's Empress in the novel.

A swordsman and a master of ice magic.

Seven turned his gaze toward the training grounds visible through the window.

The twins were still there, their bodies sprawled unconscious on the dirt. But now, someone else stood above them. It was a figure he recognized immediately.

Eden Hart.

As if she'd heard him, Eden's head tilted as her cold gaze locked with his through the glass. It was impossible for her to hear him from this distance—yet her sharp eyes told him she didn't need to.

Eden raised her left hand, the one not gripping a sword. A magic circle flared to life in her palm.

Before Seven could react, the window shattered—not from force, but as if melting away, the shards dissolving into water. Then the wall itself crumbled and dissolved into ice that formed into a downward staircase, step by step.

Steps made of ice.

A total of seventy-seven steps. It grew out of frost and spiraled down from his room to the training grounds where Eden stood.

"Sister…"