Charlotte nodded, appreciating Ethan's logic, though she still hated him calling her a milk bag. Her eyes dropped to her chest for a moment. She sighed, murmuring under her breath, "It's not that big."
"Seems you've got a good head on your shoulders," she said after a beat, "I guess they didn't account for your intelligence… or maybe they did, but you've been hiding how smart you are. Or who knows, maybe you just woke up smart one morning."
Ethan glanced at her, tilting his head. "Milk-bag, you're almost at saint-level demigod, right?"
Charlotte clenched her jaw. "Why should I fight for you?"
He didn't respond immediately. His throat tightened, his breath caught. He'd expected that. She was planning a bargain—she'd clearly thought this through. She probably assumed he'd use her sister as leverage, and now she wanted to make it harder for him.
"I'll release your sister… if I survive this," Ethan said, voice hoarse.
Charlotte narrowed her eyes. She shook her head slightly, her tone flat. "As much as I want to trust you, master, you might not keep your word. You lie too easily."
He looked down for a moment, then asked, "How do you want me to prove I'm sincere?"
"Release my sister first," she said, arms crossed. "Since the contract's still valid, I'll help you once. After that, dissolve it. Let me go."
Ethan sighed heavily, like the air had been knocked out of him. Everything was unraveling. He didn't even know who had set the trap anymore. He felt like a fly caught in a web that kept tightening the more he moved.
Then it happened.
An arrow tore through the air, aimed straight at his chest. He saw it coming—slow motion—but his body couldn't move fast enough. Weak, drained, barely held together. The only thing he could do was turn slightly, just enough to shift the impact toward his backpack.
The arrow slammed into the bag.
Ethan grunted and hit the ground hard.
Good thing I didn't give that to Charlotte, he thought bitterly, pain flaring in his back.
"Save me! I'll release your sister's body—now!" he yelled.
With little choice, he made a rapid hand seal, his fingers trembling. A moment later, Charlotte's sister floated out of the mirror in a swirl of pale light.
Charlotte gasped, her usual calm cracking. She rushed forward, catching her sister as she landed. Her face lit up with disbelief and joy.
"Am I… dreaming again?" her sister murmured weakly.
Charlotte's lips trembled. She checked her sister over, her hands shaking as she confirmed everything was real. Then she whispered a strange chant—and without warning—dashed toward the assassin now charging at Ethan.
"Take her away!" she yelled over her shoulder. "Get my sister out of here!"
Ethan nodded and clutched the girl, dragging his exhausted body up with her in his arms. He staggered forward—but the moment he moved, pain tore through him. It wasn't a normal pain. It was hot, searing, sharp like fire and ice at once.
He dropped her.
Or rather… his hands did.
He looked down and saw them on the ground.
Gone. Sliced clean off.
Then came the blood.
Then came the scream.
It ripped from his throat, ragged and filled with disbelief and agony.
Charlotte stood before him with a smile—a wide, twisted smile. She laughed, that full-bodied laughter of someone who had been holding it in too long.
"Just as expected… your hands are your strength and your weakness," she sneered.
"You… You hurt me? The contract is still valid! You can't!" Ethan screamed through the pain.
Charlotte gave a small, mocking bow. "All thanks to you… or should I say, thanks to your father. He gave me a way out. A soul protection spell. Even though the mana contract is still active, I can resist its punishment—long enough to kill you."
She paused, then added with a breath of weariness, "The deal was simple. I protect your elder brother until he becomes the next patriarch. And in return, I get to break you."
She looked at him—this young, arrogant boy who had fooled so many.
"You're cunning, Ethan. Too cunning for your age. I would've ended you when Amelia hurt you, but I had to wait. I had to wait until you fell into someone else's trap. I still don't know who set it, but it gave me the chance I needed."
Ethan stared at her, blood bubbling in his throat.
Charlotte smiled coldly. "Now that my sister is safe… you can die. But I won't let just anyone kill you. That pleasure's mine."
She swung her blade.
Ethan's leg came off in a spray of blood.
Then, with a guttural scream, she hacked off his manhood and shoved it into his mouth. "You horny bastard!" she roared.
She kept cutting—limb after limb, slice after slice—until Ethan was just a twitching heap of flesh.
Still, he laughed.
He laughed.
Blood poured from his lips as he forced himself to speak. "I told you… you're stupid… who said I freed your sister?"
Charlotte froze.
Amelia, rushing toward Ethan's position with murder in her eyes, also halted mid-step.
The elders who had planned to retrieve Ethan's body to salvage their schemes paused, frowning.
Ethan coughed, choking on blood, his eyes locked on Charlotte.
"I'm dying anyway," he said, voice barely a whisper. "So I might as well take your sister with me."
Charlotte's face twitched. "Empty threats. You've lost your hands. You've lost everything. You can't do anything now. You're full of nothing."
Ethan laughed again, a rasp of breath and pain.
He looked up at the sky—so far away, so far from the little farm he once knew.
"If I'd known… I would've never played that game," he murmured. "I would've stayed with my parents… on that farm…"
The people around him didn't understand. They thought he was delirious.
Then he looked at Charlotte and her sister one final time. His eyes burned with fading hatred and bitter triumph.
"I have one last gift for you, Charlotte… Break."
And then he died.
Crack.
Crack.
Crack.
The mirror in Charlotte's pocket shattered with a sound that cut through the world.
She paled, heart pounding. "No… no, no, no—"
Then she heard it.
Her sister screamed—high and shrill—and collapsed. Her eyes wide, empty.
Just… gone.
Her soul was gone.
"NOOOOOOO!"
Charlotte screamed and screamed, her voice echoing through the halls. Her face twisted in madness.
The elders were stunned.
"He destroyed her soul?"
"Impossible!" cried a goat-faced elder.
One of the older men whispered, "That child… that cursed child. If only his brother had this kind of brilliance. Even in death, with nothing left, he still destroyed his enemy's hope."
Charlotte, sobbing, gathered Ethan's remains—what was left—and reduced them to powder. Still not satisfied, she screamed, tore at her own hair, and carried her sister's soulless body into the dark, broken beyond repair.