Little brother…
Shino lifted his head. That voice echoed in his mind, deafening, like the roar of a crashing sea. Yet, somehow, it felt as if he alone could hear it.
It was both foreign and deeply familiar.
"Brother…"
At the word, Ye Long froze. His gaze shifted between Shino and the old Priest standing before them. Something seemed to click in his mind, though he remained silent.
Shino took a deep breath, his chest rising as though burdened by years of unsaid words. His voice trembled. “Actually… I have so much I want to say to you…”
He hesitated, searching for a beginning but finding none. “These years, I feel like we’ve lost so much.”
His voice cracked, weighted by regret. “Only after losing do you realize what truly matters. But it’s already too late.”
“I’m sorry.”
The voice from the deep sea resonated again, unyielding and cold.
“I don’t care.”
“Not for you, not for this family, not for anything on land. I don’t care.”
“Like that Being, I care nothing for what we do to this world or what we create. The conflicts of mortals are but a game to her—and to me.”
“If you’re still clinging to this, you’ve yet to understand what it means to grow, little brother.”
Shino’s gaze fell, his head bowing under the weight of those words. They lingered in his mind, vast and incomprehensible. What point was there in unraveling them?
Each stray thought seemed like an open window to the wind and snow—chilling and unnecessary.
Chino had long since abandoned such frivolous things.
Ye Long had once spoken of Chino, of an underwater city called R’lyeh. A place unreachable, even by him.
Realization flickered across Ye Long’s expression, but he shook it off, unwilling to dwell on the thought.
Shino’s voice broke the silence. “Why won’t you show yourself to me?”
The sea roared again, answering. “Because you’re not ready. Not yet.”
The words carried weight, but no warmth.
“The vampires have given you much, haven’t they? Tell me, do you enjoy the monster’s world?”
Shino’s gaze dropped to the ground, his voice low, almost inaudible. “If I had the choice, I would have died that day.”
A pause, heavy as the tide.
“Died on the day I became a monster.”
From the depths of the sea, Chino hesitated, the sentiment catching him off guard. This Shino was unlike the brother he remembered. Or perhaps… he was no longer a person.
“You’ve changed, little brother,” Chino remarked.
“What changed you? Was it time, or something else?”
Shino’s shoulders sagged under invisible weight. “Perhaps… both.”
“Time wears down everything. The moments between life and death, the loss of loved ones… they show you how weak you really are.”
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
He took a shaky breath. “Hours and days pass by in this world. What have I gained? What have I lost? I used to carry it all with me, trying to fill the emptiness.”
His voice trembled, raw. “But the ties broke. I found that it was exhausting. And lonely.”
His words grew softer, barely more than a whisper. “I wish I could go back…”
“To the past, to simpler times. When we had common ground. When we’d hide from our parents, reading manga under the covers.”
He paused, a tear slipping down his cheek. “We saw those wheat fields, didn’t we? With Da Bai… I just want to see it again. See it all again…”
Shino’s voice cracked, tears now streaming freely. “I saw the tombstone you made for him. I’m sorry. I want to apologize to him myself…”
“If our childhood had been less dark, if we’d been born into a normal family… maybe we wouldn’t be like this.”
Shino’s sobs filled the silence, his words spilling like a broken dam. In that moment, he seemed less like a prince and more like a weeping child.
Chino, listening from the depths, slowly closed his eyes.
“I want to see it again,” Shino murmured. “Back then… we were together, in the wheat field, with Da Bai. He loved that place.”
His voice softened, slipping into memory. “Remember? We found a book in that wheat field…”
Shino’s voice carried a childlike timbre as he recited:
“Leaning against the mountain, by the river. Walking is peaceful. Sitting is peaceful…”
“Half an acre of land for one ox. Harvesting is even. Leaving it fallow is even…”
“After the rain, the sky clears. A small boat, fish on one side, wine on the other…”
Chino’s eyes opened slowly, his hand reaching out instinctively. But instead of fingers, he saw a monstrous limb, writhing with tentacles and eyes.
He paused, the realization sinking in.
“You really…”
...
“Only after losing everything do you understand how precious the past was.”
Shino’s voice trembled, every word laced with pain.
“But it’s too late, it’s already too late…”
His shoulders slumped, as if the weight of his regrets was too much to bear. “What is the meaning of life? Losing things again and again? If I end up losing you, what will I have left? Why would I exist?”
Beneath the deep sea, Chino’s golden eyes glinted, cold and unyielding.
“When people start thinking about the meaning of life, life itself has already lost its meaning.”
His voice was as deep and resounding as the ocean’s currents. “Even with regrets that span millennia, there’s no point dwelling on the past. What has passed is past.”
“Those lost things can no longer be recovered. The only thing you can lose now is not me, but your own life.”
“Your every word and action is telling me that you can’t hold on anymore.”
“Obsessed with the past, obsessed with people, you can only lose more. But for you now, it’s already too late.”
Chino paused, his tone softening only slightly. “But if you give up everything about being human, then it’s not too late.”
“Everything is just right.”
Shino lifted his head, his expression distant, as though he were peering into a realm far removed from reality. “Those who cling to the past end up losing everything. Perhaps, it should have been this way…”
Then, his voice steadied. “Brother, I want to ask you for something.”
From the deep sea, Chino tilted his head slightly, his curiosity piqued. “As a vampire royal, why would you need to ask anyone?”
His tone was sharp, like the crack of a whip. “You only need to spread your wings and call out. Without 008, you can become the new True Ancestor. The vampires will listen to your commands.”
“You don’t need anyone to confirm you.”
Shino turned, his gaze falling on Ye Long. “If I let go of my humanity, I can let go of a lot of things.”
“But before that, I have to fulfill my promise.”
His voice lowered, heavy with determination. “I need a Silver Thread Needle.”
Chino’s voice turned icy, his words a cutting blade. “Unfortunately, you’re too late.”
“The thing you’re looking for is no longer in this world.”
Those words struck like a hammer, reverberating through Ye Long’s mind. His fists clenched at his sides as his jaw tightened. He understood the implications.
“…Shino, don’t.”
Ye Long’s voice wavered, but he turned and walked away.
If the Silver Thread Needle wasn’t in this world, it could only mean it had been given to an entity far beyond mortal comprehension.
Watching Ye Long retreat, Shino exhaled slowly, as though letting go of something he’d held onto for far too long.
Without another word, Shino turned to leave.
But before he could vanish into the shadows, the waters around them surged, and a dense horde of Fish-Men emerged from the depths, their presence suffocating.
“Wait.”
Chino’s voice rumbled, commanding and absolute. “Bring them along. The tidal wave of disaster must cover the world. No one can escape.”
“Let’s take the flames of war to the land. This war tide, the first strike will come from you, my little brother.”
Shino paused, his back to the crowd. The Fish-Men Priests approached, draping a black robe over his shoulders.
He raised the hood, casting his face into shadow. Without looking back, he spoke one final time.
“If one day, we meet again, I hope we’ll both be well, brother.”
The words hung in the air like a distant bell, ringing faintly before fading into silence.
Chino watched as Shino disappeared into the gloom. Slowly, he closed his golden eyes, his expression inscrutable.
“Well…”