A voice rang out, loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Oh, how disgusting. Even now, you still haven’t changed—how pathetic."

The deceptively sweet voice belonged to someone Zamel was all too familiar with—Merina, the only daughter of the eldest son of his grandfather, the Patriarch of this household.

She was the same age as Zamel. At first glance, she resembled a porcelain doll—her round face accentuated by a high, pointed nose, and scarlet hair that blazed like living flames. Her pink eyes shimmered, framed by long, perfect lashes, and her red lips sat between delicate dimples. Her cheeks, still carrying traces of baby fat, gave her an air of youthful charm, making her appear as a fragile, innocent flower—one that people would willingly shield from harm.

But looks could be deceiving.

Despite her delicate appearance, Merina was anything but harmless. From childhood, she had been rigorously trained in various martial arts, honing both her body and mind to exceptional levels. Coupled with her innate talent for magic, she was a force to be reckoned with.

She followed in her father’s footsteps, and the entire family believed she would awaken as a Battlemage—a formidable magic practitioner who seamlessly combined magic with physical prowess in combat.

Before Zamel could respond, another voice chimed in—the very same one that had first insulted him.

"Sister Merina, please be careful with your words. You might wound his delicate feelings to the point where he wets himself right here."

A mocking chuckle followed.

"The food is on its way, and I’m famished. I’d hate to lose my appetite, especially on such an important day."

The instigator of this cruelty was none other than Ezekiel, the eldest son of one of Zamel’s aunts—the Patriarch’s eldest daughter.

Ezekiel bore a striking resemblance to his mother. His sharp, well-defined features were complemented by a high, pointed nose and golden eyes that gleamed like the sun. A confident smile accompanied with a long flowing blonde hair, the kind that could make many girls swoon, was permanently etched onto his face. Like Merina and Zamel, he was also of the same age.

Laughter erupted once more from his cousins, filling the dining hall with their cruel amusement.

Had their parents been present, they would have undoubtedly reprimanded their children for their disgraceful lack of table manners—manners that had been drilled into them since childhood.

But, unfortunately for Zamel, they were not here.

At this moment, the adults were gathered in the Patriarch’s office, engaged in a discussion about today’s significant event.

"Brother Ezekiel is right. It’s disrespectful to act so disgustingly in front of your family—especially your younger cousins."

"Right, right, right! That’s so weird—HAHAHAHA!"

The voices belonged to the twins, Ezekiel’s younger brother and sister from another father—Abigail and Adriel. Yes, the eldest daughter of this household has two husbands and is married into two families.

Like their older brother, they shared the same sharp features and striking appearance. However, one distinct difference set them apart—their eyes. Unlike Ezekiel’s golden irises, both Abigail have gray eyes and Adriel had a heterochromatic eyes—one bright orange and the other light blue.

Although they were twins, their personalities differed from one another. Abigail is a cool-headed girl that carried herself with elegance, coupled with an air of arrogance that made her look down on those she deemed unworthy or unattractive. Adriel, on the other hand, had a fiery temperament and a reckless nature that often landed him in trouble.

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Like Merina, all three of them were exceptionally talented. Their older brother, Ezekiel, was highly skilled in various forms of weaponry. While he did not possess the same level of magical talent as Merina, he had an affinity for the Light Element—one of the two forces categorized as Divine Elements, alongside Darkness. Despite this, his true strength lay in his combat techniques, where he far surpassed Merina. He also underwent extensive training in horsemanship, and his deep studies in military strategy made him a promising tactician. Additionally, he was a devout follower of their kingdom’s war god, Laius.

While the twins did not excel in weaponry and combat techniques like Ezekiel, they were both geniuses in magic.

Abigail possessed an affinity for both the Mental and Metal elements. Mental magic belonged to a category known as Unofficial Elements—a group distinct from the primary elements of Fire, Water, Wind, Earth, and Lightning. Though not considered a fundamental magic type, it was highly versatile. Those with this ability could manipulate and break the minds of their foes, read the thoughts of those with weak mental defenses, and communicate telepathically.

Metal magic, on the other hand, was a sub-element of Earth, known for its formidable offensive and defensive properties. Those with this affinity could manipulate various types of metal, shaping them to their will. Abigail, having mastery over both Mental and Metal magic, was a force to be reckoned with.

Adriel, in contrast, had affinities for Fire and Lightning—two elements renowned for their destructive capabilities. The synergy between these elements made them exceptionally powerful when used together. If Adriel could push his abilities to higher levels, he had the potential to merge them into Plasma—a rare and devastating element that carried the characteristics of both Fire and Lightning.

These were the people Zamel faced every day. These four made his life in the household a living hell. Every day, they beat his body black and blue under the pretense of training. As if that weren’t enough, they hurled all kinds of insults at him—words far too cruel for children their age.

Although Ezekiel, Abigail, and Adriel’s mother made an effort to stop her children from tormenting Zamel—finding his circumstances pitiful—her attempts were in vain due to Merina’s influence.

This was largely because Merina’s father never bothered to discipline his daughter for her actions. He harbored an intense hatred toward Zamel—more specifically, for the blood running through his veins—and for another reason only he truly understood.

Once again, Zamel was reminded of why he continued to endure. He kept his gaze fixed on the floor, tears pooling in his eyes. Yet, he fought to keep them from falling—he refused to give these four the satisfaction of seeing his pain.

Slowly, he walked toward his seat, as far away from them as possible. He sat down, grasping the silverware with practiced precision. Despite knowing that no one in this household recognized his status as a noble, he still made every effort to act like one—if only to preserve the dignity of their family name.

Seeing that her efforts seemed to be in vain, Merina looked dissatisfied with Zamel’s continued resistance. Wanting to provoke a reaction from him, she called out in a way that she knew would surely get under his skin.

"So, Half-Blood, are you excited for today? You must be. After all, you’ll finally become just like those loathsome bastards in the South—considering your disgusting lineage." Her voice dripped with aggression.

Her words echoed through the dining room, loud enough for everyone to hear. However, instead of the usual laughter and jeering insults, only a deafening silence followed.

Unbothered—already expecting this reaction—Merina pressed on.

"Well, if people ever find out where your blood truly comes from, this family will have a field day trying to minimize the damage your very existence causes. So instead of going to the ceremony, why don’t you do us all a favor? Just go to the balcony and kill yourself. That would really help us all, wouldn’t it? You know that as well, right, Half-Breed?"

Everyone at the table stared at Merina with wide eyes, unable to believe what she had just said. Although Zamel’s circumstances were well known within the household, no one dared to speak of them openly. The reason was simple—the Patriarch would not hesitate to kill anyone who uttered such words aloud.

Even the maids, butlers, and guards stationed in the room stiffened, swallowing hard and shifting uncomfortably. The weight of Merina’s words pressed down on the room like a suffocating presence.

Yet, while the air was thick with unease, one child had an entirely different reaction.

Zamel.

He stared at Merina with scornful eyes, burning as hot as the flames of an inferno. His grip on the silverware tightened so fiercely that, if he had the strength, he might have shattered them in his hands.

For the first time, Zamel spoke.

His voice, laced with pure, undiluted hatred, cutting through the silence like a blade.

"Listen here, you little shit!"