Beast Gacha System: All Mine-Chapter 35: Family

They.

Arkai flinched, wrath igniting in his gaze at the mention of the interceptors. But the fire was instantly extinguished, doused by the bone-deep grief he saw reflected in Cecilia’s face. 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

He widened his eyes. Cecilia... he just realized the way her eyes looked. They were tired. Not the tiredness from a sleepless night, but the exhaustion his mother used to wear the morning after she had cried all night.

This woman... she was here, in the epicenter of a tragedy she had tried to prevent, beating herself raw over the viciousness of others.

She shouldered the consequences of a betrayal she did not commit.

Those people...

"I don’t know what happened down there in the capital, but I will forever be on your side."

He was no fool. The silence from the capital wasn’t peace. It would soon become the eye of the hurricane. An uproar was inevitable.

The people, the lords, the commoners, the countless souls Cecilia had saved over the years, were now watching. Their personal gratitude was one thing, but political allegiance was another. They were all now calculating, weighing their loyalty to the proven, discarded seer against the official, sanctioned power of the Temple.

They were deciding whether to quietly accept the new, politically-approved savior, or to risk denouncing the ’true’ Saintess as the dangerous fraud she truly was.

That new ’true’ Saintess, Ruby Vaiva... she had better be ready. Because the world wouldn’t just be watching her, it was comparing her to the woman who had just parted a volcano’s fury with her bare hands.

But before all that, now he must take a deeper, more personal plunge. "And... I must ask this because I am a Dawnoro, my Lady. My aunt from my mother’s side was married to Yuri Vasiliev. If you don’t know him, he’s Anton Vasiliev’s father." He paused, watching Cecilia’s eyes widen. "It could be said I was your distant uncle-in-law."

Anton Vasiliev was Arzhen’s father.

"The boy you married to... he was named after me. The ’Ar’ in our name was the name of the Werewolves’ Allfather, Aro Dawnoro," he explained. With deep worry, he pushed through the discomfort. "What happened to you and that boy, my lady?"

Cecilia’s hand flew, unconsciously, to the center of her chest. It was a small gesture, but for a beast as perceptive as Arkai...

His face paled instantly. He shot to his feet, his entire body vibrating with an uncontrollable rage.

"Hah—that little fucker..."

The woman had no heart.

Was it truly that boy, his namesake, who had ripped it out of her chest?

His furious gaze snapped to Oathran. The chilling cold in the Dragon Lord’s expression was all the confirmation he needed. A wave of shame washed over him, followed by a crushing disappointment that felt heavier than the mountain itself.

He looked out through the tent flap, at the devastation his distraction had partly allowed, and then back at the heartless woman his own bloodline had broken. The bitterness that twisted his features was a terrible thing to behold.

"I shouldn’t have saved that boy’s life when he was a mere newborn, huh?"

Cecilia took a deep breath before she let it out in a slow, weary sigh. She shook her head.

"Your Majesty, whatever happened between that person and I, it happened because of my own fault," she said, her voice calm. "I trusted the wrong man and underestimated what he was capable of doing."

"With the way I am, you would’ve thought I would’ve known. But I am no real prophet after all," she continued, a bitter smile touching her lips. "And even with proof right in front of my eyes... I still chose to be blind to all of it."

She had seen the future of nations but missed the betrayal in her own bed.

Her gaze grew distant, piecing together the old, ignored clues. "Lord Vasiliev... he is ill at the moment. It’s been a long time since I was able to visit him. Arzhen... now that I recall, never let me meet the people that truly mattered. He would let me walk around the city when I had a work break, but would never let me meet his father alone, or some lord with important contacts to me..."

The way Chief Hettor was barred from her three years ago... it wasn’t protection, but isolation.

"Anton was never close to the temple before. But his wife... she was closely acquainted with the capital nobles. If I’m not mistaken, Ruby Vaiva is the daughter of a fallen Marquis, and she went missing right before the Saintess Coronation seventeen years ago," Arkai supplied, connecting the political dots she already knew.

He pressed on, "That boy... I heard he was close to this one girl long ago. But I thought nothing of it when I heard he bonded with you after he saved you from danger. I was genuinely happy that you married into the family. I’ve been grateful for your prophecies and warnings even long before that, so I was relieved."

"Could it be..." he hesitated, "he took your heart to break your bond with him?"

Cecilia didn’t immediately answer. But eventually, a nod confirmed his suspicion.

"A year before Saintess Ruby’s return, I’ve heard rumors from the north about her excellence. The path she carved for the people around her, her insight, and then her prophetic knowledge..." Cecilia began.

"I’ve known about her return for a year now, and I know how much Arzhen cherished her. So, I told him about her and offered to break our bond," she continued, "while I searched for the Meleth Flower."

She paused, gathering the strength for the cruel final twist.

"But then... Saintess Ruby returned to reclaim her title with another man by her side, Nikolas Delanivis. It was said that they were close partners before her reemergence... and they had accidentally bonded."

Arkai’s frown deepened into a canyon of disgust. But when the words ’Meleth Flower’ had left her lips, he had seen where it was going.

"So... to break that girl apart from her accidental bond with the Meleth Flower, he ripped your heart instead?" Arkai asked, closing his eyes tight, trying to block out the sheer vileness of it.

He didn’t even question if she had succeeded in her quest. Of course she had gotten the flower. The rumors of the Saintess scouring the continents for the mythical bloom were widespread.

No one had questioned it. Why would they question a woman who knew the future?

She knew the future.

And Arzhen still killed her for it.

Worse... he killed her because of it. He used the hope she tirelessly worked to be the reason to execute her.

Cecilia never wanted to voice this story. To give it words was to make it real all over again. And to confess it to this man, a man whose blood was, however distantly, tied to her tormentor, felt like a fresh violation.

"Believe me when I say this, Saintess. No matter what, I, Lord of the North, Arkai Dawnoro, will not tolerate this," Arkai’s voice cut through her shame. "Be it that he was named after me, be it how he was blood. I do not care."

His loyalty was not a fickle thing, swayed by lineage. It was forged in gratitude and hardened now by righteous fury.

"From now on, Arzhen Vasiliev is nothing but an enemy to our savior, and he is no one to me and the Dawnoro Family," he concluded.

Cecilia was speechless. She had braced for skepticism, for awkward excuses. She had never expected this immediate, absolute allegiance.

And seeing the rage simmering beneath his calm, she made a decision. She would never tell him about the other, more intimate violation. The memory of Arzhen’s unwanted claim would die with her. What uncle would want to hear that his nephew had violated his niece-in-law? The knowledge would shatter him.

She fell into a heavy silence, when suddenly...

"LORD! LORD ARKAI! LORD, WHERE ARE YOU?! FATHER! WHERE’S MY FATHER?!"

The voice was frantic, sounding like a raw, personal fear.

The three of them snapped to alertness. Arkai led the charge, throwing back the tent flap just as a young werewolf pup launched himself into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Father! Father Lord! YOU’RE ALIVE!"

"Rinne, what..." Arkai was confused, holding the trembling boy. "I am alright, who told you I’m otherwise, huh?"

He pulled the child up, and the boy cried, tears carving clean paths through the ash on his face. "THE PROPHECY!"

Everyone widened their eyes. And then they saw it. Beyond the child, descending the scorched hills in orderly rows, was a white army. Behind Rinne, the rest of Arkai’s aides were rushing toward them, their faces full of panic and relief.

"What the fuck is happening...?" Arkai breathed, his mind struggling to process the scene.

"Father..." Rinne clutched at his armor, his small voice trembling. "The new saintess said that the gods told her you’re dead! You’re dead on top of that volcano, trying to save everyone and... and... she sent the Arctic Werewolves to take charge of our Dawnoro Domain now!"

DRAP—DRAP—DRAP—DRAP—

Hah.

Arkai was so stunned he could only let out a sneer.

"I see."

A single vein throbbed at his temple, pulsing against the clench of his jaw.

"This is war."