CHAPTER 63: FAMILY, PUNISHMENT, RELENT

Rosalia — POV

The little girl buried her face in her grampa chest, shuddering violently.

He held her tenderly, soothing her with soft pats to the back and speaking softly.

Then, with care, he passed her to the strong, stern-looking man beside him—the soldier.

Then, and only then, did he turn back toward Cassel, his eyes rising to his son still helplessly suspended in the air.

"Let my son down as well. We’ll take him and leave, and later we’ll come to your home to thank you properly."

The elder’s behavior was noble and composed.

Even while asking forgiveness for his son’s actions, he didn’t beg or crumble.

His dignity remained intact.

A man who apologized without lowering his pride.

But Cassel only raised a brow, replying coldly—utterly devoid of politeness.

"You want me to release the man who tried to kill my girl? Just like that?"

A terrifying killing aura radiated from Cassel’s body—thick, suffocating, sharp enough that even the air felt heavier.

Finally, the old man’s noble façade cracked, replaced by worry—anger—and maybe even regret.

His jaw tensed, his eyes widened, his posture stiffened.

But Cassel didn’t care for anyone present.

He flicked a finger.

Several small wind blades shot toward the helpless man hanging in the air—thin, sharp, deadly.

The man couldn’t dodge.

Couldn’t even flinch.

Could only watch.

Blood burst from fresh gashes across his body.

It poured down in streams, staining his clothes until the droplets falling from above resembled a rain of blood.

Thick, crimson beads pattered upon the dirt, each drop striking with a sickening finality.

"John! John!"

The man holding the child cried out, clutching her tightly and pressing her face deep into his chest to shield her from the horrific sight of her father.

His voice trembled with panic and fury.

"You monster! You dare harm my brother?! Do you even know who we are?!"

Cassel laughed—a cold, chilling sound—and in that moment, he truly did resemble a demon. A cruel, elegant, terrifying demon cloaked in shadows and wrath.

"Who are you? It doesn’t matter. To me, you’re just people who tried to harm my family. And anyone who does... will never escape punishment."

Family.

The word struck me hard—so hard I nearly gasped.

Tears gathered in my eyes, blurring the scene before me.

How many times had I dreamed of hearing that word?

Of living it?

Of belonging somewhere?

Of having a loving family?

A family that stood at my back, that supported me, protected me.

One that didn’t see me as a burden or a stain.

But that wish never came true.

Instead, I lived like a stranger among people who couldn’t stand the sight of my face.

A ghost wandering corridors where no one wanted me. A shadow no one cared to notice unless it was to blame or insult.

And now... now I had someone I could call family.

Someone who cared for me so fiercely, who avenged me without hesitation, who feared even the smallest wound on me.

Someone whose heart ignited with fury on my behalf.

My tears fell silently down my cheeks.

Meanwhile, the old man stood speechless—perhaps because deep down, he knew he would’ve done the same if someone hurt his family.

"We’re sorry. We apologize on his behalf. We’re willing to pay compensation. And it seems the girl beside you wasn’t harmed..."

"She wasn’t harmed because I was strong enough—and because I was here to protect her. If I hadn’t come in time—"

Cassel cut himself off, glaring murderously at the man hovering in the air, as if imagining the worst.

"Please... please, spare him," the old man begged. His voice cracked, trembling with desperation.

"He’s not in his right mind. He’s been hurt as well. Please... he’s a good boy. He wouldn’t normally hurt anyone."

Suddenly, the elder fell to his knees.

The sound of his knees striking the earth echoed like a blow. Perhaps he sensed death in Cassel’s eyes.

Perhaps he realized Cassel truly could kill his son—and was seconds away from doing it.

"Father—no! Don’t kneel to him! I’ll save my brother with my own power! Father, get up!"

"Oh? Your power?"

Cassel’s voice was cold, mocking, and dangerous.

He was about to raise his hand again.

No... the child was still in that man’s arms.

If Cassel attacked—

I had to stop him.

"Cae—"

"Cae."

I rushed in front of Cassel, blocking his view entirely, forcing him to look nowhere but at me. My heart pounded violently, but I held my ground.

"Look at me," I whispered, rising onto my toes to reach his face.

I barely managed to touch his chin with trembling fingers—but I had no time to feel embarrassed.

I quickly chose the best way to soothe him.

I kissed him—softly and lightly.

It barely counted as a kiss, landing only at the edge of his jaw... but if it calmed him, if it anchored him, if it pulled him back from the brink, then it was enough.

"Cassel... look. I’m fine. I’m not hurt at all."

As soon as I felt his breathing soften, as soon as the storm in his eyes dimmed even a fraction, I slipped my arms around his waist and hugged him—firmly, lovingly, desperately.

"You don’t have to use force for everything. Look at the little girl—she’s terrified. She’s too young to bear the weight of her family’s mistakes. Let’s listen to them first... they said the man is sick. Don’t kill him. Please."

For a long moment, Cassel was silent.

The tension in his body was tight enough to snap.

The air around him crackled with barely restrained violence.

Then finally—slowly, heavily—his quiet voice came.

"But he tried to kill you. If I hadn’t been here—if I hadn’t arrived in time—"

"But you were here," I whispered. "You saved me. And as long as you’re with me, I’m not afraid of anything. Let’s give them one chance."

I lifted my gaze to his, smiling gently through the lingering tears, and asked in a soft, pleading tone:

"Please... pleaaase?"

At last—after all that effort, all that trembling fear—I heard a faint grunt of surrender from Cassel.

A small sound, but enough to shift everything.

And with that, we managed to stop the volcano from erupting.

Of course, I was happy—so deeply, overwhelmingly happy—that Cassel listened to me, accepted my words, and didn’t push me aside.

He chose me.

He heard me.

He stopped because of me.