Three months had gone by since the young master of the Yan Clan fell into a coma.

The memories of that day were still engraved in the minds of those who were present at the banquet. It was the main subject of talk at the clan, and the rumors spread throughout all of Heart Isle.

The first elder had tried to quell the rumors, yet to no avail. Nobody knew whether the young master would stir from his slumber someday, if ever.

It was no secret that the boy had forced the keeper onto his body by himself. Most speculated that the young boy had been coerced into doing this by someone.

The spectacle was still vivid in people’s minds - the boy’s crazed laugh before losing his consciousness as he bled, decayed, and burned, both internally and externally. He not only devoured Ajarsan’s soul, but also an entire rank two elixir!

What was wrong with the head family? Did they abuse their children?

The first son, renowned for his carefree and barbaric attitude, was known as the ‘Savage of the Yan clan’.

The daughter, renowned for her maniacal behavior and ruthlessness, was known as the ‘Witch of the Yan clan’.

…

Since the day Damian fell into a coma, Mehmed hadn't slept well. He had interrogated everyone he suspected but still hadn't identified the bastard who had given that poisonous keeper to Damian.

He had even borrowed a rank three relic, No. 11 - Mazalan, otherwise known as the Codex of Truth, for a hefty price. To be more precise, it was not he who paid for the relic but the first elder.

After Damian fell into a coma, Mehmed suspected the elder. Who else but him? To save his life and prove his innocence, the elder promised to get his hands on this relic. The elder had to spend half of his life savings to secure this relic and deliver on his promise, prioritizing his survival over his wealth.

Mazalan was such a strong relic that even Mehmed himself could not resist its ability to discern the truth. In its core lay a powerful rank three rune of honesty. To leave no stone unturned, he wielded the relic personally, determined to extract the truth from the shadows.

As usual, someone barged into the room without any moment of giving any notice. It was his sister, Yana Hakan.

“Good morning, brother. How do you feel?”

“Goo- Shitty.”

“Pffft.”

Hakan calmly snorted in amusement as Mehmed internally cursed the relic’s side effect. Beyond haunting him with terrible nightmares, the Codex of Truth also imposed another burden - the user could not tell a lie for an extended period. Hakan was all too ready to exploit this to her advantage.

“Get to the point.”

“I want to open up a business.”

“You? No way. What put that idea in the stupid head of yo-”

Mehmed clamped his mouth shut, cutting himself off mid-insult. Another infuriating side effect of the Codex was that not only could he not lie, but he also could not withhold the truth.

Hakan's eyes twinkled with mischief as she watched her brother. She liked this version of Mehmed more. A smirk played at the corners of her mouth. She leaned forward, entertained by her brother's predicament.

“I don’t want to hear that coming from you. I’m kind of feeling bored, you know? There’s nothing interesting to do over here.”

“Then scram-”

“Can’t do. Someone has to look after Damian. I’ve let you look after the kid, and look what happened. You are as bad a father as you are a clan head.”

Hakan's amusement seemed to cool as the conversation progressed. The twinkling mischief in her eyes faded, replaced by a cold, detached gaze. She leaned back on a cushion, crossing her arms and surveying Mehmed with a dispassionate air.

“You’re right. It’s all my fault.”

“Eh?”

She blinked, her composure wavering. She was taken aback by Mehmed’s sudden truthfulness. He would never take the blame for something.

However, he pressed on, adopting a more pragmatic tone.

“First, tell me what and for what you need this business of yours.”

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“An information guild. I need money, lots of it. Around thirty thousand life stones for starters.”

His brows furrowed, and he leaned forward, scrutinizing Hakan as golden flecks flickered in his deep gaze. He then focused his gaze on a similar pair of golden eyes.

Life stones were the common currency in the island. Those stones were the sole rank zero or unranked rune - rune of life. It is theorized that every other rune in existence was derived from it. For every different type of rune in existence, it was estimated that there were about one hundred life stones.

An average monthly earning in the clan was thirty stones per person, equating to a single life stone per day. As such, thirty thousand life stones were an enormous sum of money. What kind of business could possibly need that much capital upfront?

“So, the reason?”

“The thing is, I learned a lot while staying in Star City and forming connections with the higher-ups. The population, amounting close to four million, are dancing in the palm of select few individuals. The world is as vast as it is limited. People do not have freedom - they can make choices, yet they cannot choose the choices themselves. To attain the choice of choice, one must perceive the world not as it is given, but as it is.”

Upon hearing it, Mehmed nodded in understanding.

“Didn’t understand shit-”

Mehmed hastily closed his mouth as his lips bled. He wanted to say that he understood, but apparently deep inside, he didn’t.

“Fucking Codex.”

Wait, he wasn’t supposed to say this either. The effects of Mazalan were worsening by the day. It also seemed that years of casual conversations with his son at the dinner table had shifted his manner of speaking. Such vulgar language! Mehmed was enraged at himself.

Hakan’s expression now bore a trace of concern. She thought that there was no way the fate of the whole clan could lie in the hands of this guy. Every time she saw him, he was becoming less and less competent.

“Hah… I can see that you are serious about the matter. We can discuss it at the conference when Roxelana arrives. But if you are in a hurry, go ask that sly old man for funds. He’s definitely not broke but just pretends to be. Who knows how much funds he has amassed over the years. I am not fond of the idea myself, though.”

After pondering for a while, Mehmed gave his verdict. Hakan was disappointed by her brother’s lack of interest in the project.

“Do you know what they call Damian?”

“Yeah.”

His eyebrows knit together tightly as his frustration grew. The muscles in his jaw tensed, and his voice took on a sharper edge.

“Madman of the Yan clan, that is what they call him. We do not even have the ability to suppress the ongoing rumors. I will tell you more, those rumors were probably spread by the other clans. They seize any opportunity to gnaw at our reputation, to weaken our authority.”

“Still, thirty thousand is too much. We have many other projects in priority.”

“Information guild is a long-term investment. I will personally groom the seekers. It is definitely going to pay off.”

As Hakan tried to play at his emotions, Mehmed was touched yet still unmoved. Oh well, this was the best she could do. Now she had to wait a month for the conference. She did not expect much from this talk anyway. Her true objective was to get the idea across his mind, to introduce the idea gradually, so it wouldn’t come off as a surprise later.

----------------------------------------

Fatma sat quietly in the corners of the infirmary, her gaze often drifting to the arched window that framed the fleeting summer outside. The greens of the mountain foliage slowly transitioned to the auburns of early autumn, marking the passage of three long months since Damian had fallen into a coma.

The room was filled with the soft sounds of Damian’s breathing, punctuating the silence that hung heavily around them. Fatma watched the light shift and change through the window. Each ray of morning starlight that slipped through seemed to whisper days that Damian missed as he lay motionless on the bed beside her.

Each day, she held onto a fading hope that Damian would awaken and see the beauty of the season’s change with her, yet each day also deepened the despair. The walls of the castle, thick and unyielding, mirrored her trapped emotions.

Unknowingly, tears fell down her cheeks from her hazel eyes. She had been lonely for all this time, having nothing to distract her from the gloomy thoughts. The occasional visit from a healer or a servant did little to pierce her seclusion. As the days turned into weeks and then months, her sense of isolation only deepened.

Memories lingered in her mind.

Exactly six years ago, standing in the grand hallway, her small hand was swallowed up by her father's much larger, reassuring one. Her father, dressed in his traveling robe, was ready to depart for the labyrinth with the first young master. His face, usually so stern and composed, softened as he knelt to meet her eye level.

"I promise I'll come back safe. Just wait for me here.”

Yet, he didn’t come back. He disappeared.

Her mother had held onto hope with unwavering faith, her days consumed by endless wait. However, as weeks turned into months and months turned into years, and her father did not return, her mother's spirit began to fray. She watched as the vibrant, loving woman she knew slowly succumbed to despair.

“Haha, don’t worry, mother is going to be okay.”

Yet, she was not okay. She took her own life.

Eymen, a boy who had been with her during the early, carefree days of their lives. They had grown up together in the vast expanse of the castle. One starlit afternoon, while playing in the castle's gardens, Eymen plucked a daisy and, with the seriousness that only a child could muster, presented it to her. They were sitting by the old stone fountain, their feet dangling in the cool water.

“Fatma, when we grow up, I’m going to marry you!”

Yet, that smooth-looking smooth-talking shitface, married another woman.

She was always surrounded by liars.

As she took another glance at Damian, her tears glistened. Taking a deep breath, she wiped the tears away with the back of her hand, her jaw setting with resolve. Her eyes, though reddened from crying, now burned with a fierce determination. She leaned closer to Damian, her voice soft yet steady, hoping that he could hear her, that he might somehow feel her presence.

“Damian, I promise,

I promise that I will protect you. Both from yourself and others.”