Blood.
It poured from his nostrils and dripped down his lips in viscous trails. His ears leaked warm and sticky red that trickled down his jaw and neck.
Blood veined through the whites of his eyes before it bursted outward and splattered into the floor.
His fingernails cracked.
His gums split.
Even from under his nails, thin streams of red oozed out as he collapsed to his knees and painted the floor beneath him in a pool of gore.
"Uughh…"
He groaned.
Though it sounded half-choked and half-scream.
He could not even scream properly as the blood drowned it all.
But through it all, a single, scattered thought pulsed through the storm in his head:
'This… is worse than the novel ever described.'
"Urghh–khhh!!"
He finally was able to find his scream again.
But this time, he paced the room in a chaotic manner by grabbing the desk and leaned from wall to wall before lying down on his mattress, as if all those actions would ground him from the pain he could not describe.
***
At the Entrance of the Exiled Mansion
Three hours later…
A soft breeze rustled the tall grass beyond the iron gate. Standing just behind the threshold was a lone maid dressed in black and silver.
Iria.
Flanking her were two knights rigid in posture.
Before them stood a well-crafted carriage that was ornate but not ostentatious.
Creak.
The door swung open with a creak and two identical figures stepped out.
The twins of Harts.
Step.
Iria stepped forward and offered a slight bow.
"I welcome the Young Masters."
The knights echoed her greeting with synchronized bows.
"Welcome."
But neither of the twins offered acknowledgment.
The one on the left with his neck marred by fresh scratch marks clicked his tongue and brushed past them.
"Servants? Tch. How insulting."
His twin followed with a lot neater in appearance and with silver hair meticulously combed. He cast a sideways glance at Iria and smirked.
"Oh, what a cute little maid. You'd look even cuter lying on top of a grave."
Iria did not flinch.
"Shut your damn mouth, Zach."
The scratched twin said.
"Or I'll make sure you pull all your hair out."
But Zach only laughed.
"My, such temper. Should I scratch your neck the other side to even you out?"
"You—!"
Step.
Both of them stopped their weird banter.
Their heads turned in unison toward the sound of footsteps that echoed down the stone path behind them, only to see their frail younger brother leaning on the doorway.
Seven ran his hand through his espresso-dark hair which was a stark contrast to the twins' annoyingly perfect silver.
'Welcome, shitty brothers.'
He thought.
***
Five minutes ago…
The pain finally faded, and Seven regained his consciousness.
For a moment, he did not move; rather, he could not.
His body felt like it was torn apart into pieces and sewn back together with a thread far too thin. His breathing came in slow and staggered pulls.
His chest rose and fell as if each breath had to be learned again.
His skin was clammy with sweat.
Overall, his body felt… even lighter than he felt after opening the first gate.
He looked around only to freeze from the sight.
The room looked like a massacre site.
Blood coated the wooden floor in erratic, viscous smears with some still glistening fresh while others already darkened and dried.
Splatter marks painted the walls like crude, chaotic brushstrokes.
The bedsheet was also soaked through as blood reached all the way down to the mattress.
Even the edge of the desk and chair bore streaks where his flailing hand must have dragged against them mid-convulsion.
He could see his own handprint in blood across the edge of the cabinet.
But he could feel it clearly.
The toxins were gone.
All of them.
The sluggishness that clung to his muscles since arriving here such as the constant fatigue, the nausea, the fog that blurred his focus all vanished.
He knew what it was now.
Poison.
A subtle kind, one meant to suppress rather than kill.
And he had been taking it all in. Slowly, gradually, his body had been deteriorating.
Until now.
He pulled in a breath. It was not because he needed to, but because he wanted to feel the way his lungs expanded with no tightness.
Step.
Unhurriedly, he walked toward the window, the soles of his feet wet from the blood-soaked floor. He left red footprints behind him with each step.
Creak.
He opened the window.
And he was met with a gust of fresh air.
But what he saw below made his gaze sharpen.
At the mansion gates stood Iria, the two knights guarding the exiled mansion, and a carriage with doors open and stepping out from within it were two young men.
The twins of Harts.
"Fudge…"
He narrowed his eyes.
Since they decided to visit now, then his peaceful moment ended.
***
In the Living Room
Seven sat on the sofa opposite the one where the twins lounged.
No one spoke.
The silence stretched well past a minute.
Zack kept scratching at the side of his neck where faint streaks of blood had begun to surface. He had a black single bracelet-tattoo on his left wrist.
|| Basic Information ||
|| Character: Zack Adiel Hart ||
|| Age: 17 ||
|| Talent: Rotting Swordsmanship ||
Zach, on the other hand, sat in silence as he ran a silver comb through his equally silver hair with obsessive care. He had a black single bracelet-tattoo on his right wrist.
|| Basic Information ||
|| Character: Zach Udiel Hart ||
|| Age: 17 ||
|| Talent: Restoring Swordsmanship ||
Watching the twins contrasting talent, Seven frowned.
In the novel, the Hart siblings were not given much spotlight but just enough for readers to remember their names before being pushed aside in favor of Eden's journey… and Seven Hart's death.
They all just had brief introductions like a few lines here, a few moments there. Seven chapters, collectively. The bare minimum.
And the twins here was a package deal.
A single entry in the family tree.
Despite there being eight siblings in total, the records still labeled these two as the sixth child, while Seven was still very much the seventh.
"State your purpose."
Seven said firmly, given that the twins did not seem to take his words seriously.
"Shut the damn up."
Zack responded and was still scratching his neck.
"Ah, the youngest has a sharp tongue. Can you mind your manners for once? I'm not done here yet."
Zach replied as he was still combing his hair to perfection.
Seven stared at them blankly.
After a few seconds, he stood up and tried to walk away.
In all honesty, he did not have to worry about the twins given that they were only two years older than him, one after his birthday this month, and are yet to participate in the succession.
He knew that the twins had their purpose. After all, they would not go through such a troublesome process by getting the Archduke's permission if they just wanted to do this.
But as he was just about to take another step, Zach grabbed his left shoulder.
"Where do you think you're going, youngest? Do you want a haircut?"
Zack grabbed his right shoulder.
"Goddamnit. Take one more step and—"
"Fudge off. Don't waste my time."
Seven acted arrogantly.
Especially since he does not know when the Archduke would decide to officially exile him, he needed to act that he has changed and prove himself worthy of the Hart name.
He will not cower in fear, even if the twins have two white bracelets tattooed on their wrist.
Unlike the original Seven Hart who could only act arrogantly on the maid and the guards, but shakes in fear if he's with his older siblings.
Hff…
Taking in a deep breath, he smiled.
After all, he was protected by the rules of the exiled mansion that the twins would not dare to actually hurt him.
Hence, he removed their hands on his shoulder.
He turned around.
"One last chance. State your purpose."
"..."
"..."
The twins looked at each other for a brief moment, unsure who to speak up.
But after a few glances, they spoke at the same time in perfect synchronization.
"The Academy."
"Academy?"
Zach added,
"'Take the entrance test.' Father asked us to deliver that message."