CHAPTER 231: HELPLESS LUNA

"Had fun enjoying your time with your mates?" Vulcan asked, voice low, a thick bamboo staff resting against his shoulder. The very same bamboo that had painted Hades’s stomach in harsh red strokes.

The redhead hung upside down from a massive branch, legs hooked over the bark, body tense. This was his punishment—a lesson carved not through words, but through silence, pain, and gravity. His hair draped downward like a crimson curtain, hiding the flush on his cheeks. His abdomen stung, but not a single groan escaped him. Discipline had been beaten into his bones long before this moment.

The reason for punishment? Hades nearly lost a bottle against the last beast he faced.

Vulcan didn’t move at first. He simply stood there, arms crossed, eyes cold with the authority of a man who had seen too many children drunk on power and die for it. "Tell me, Hades. What did you learn from your last battle?"

The boy inhaled sharply, voice rough, "Never to grow cocky. Never to forget the rules, sir."

A hum. Approval, but not satisfaction. Vulcan rarely awarded satisfaction.

"Now, get down."

Hades unhooked his legs and dropped. The landing was solid, quiet—he forced himself to absorb the shock silently. For a moment the world swayed, blood rushing back into his skull in a dizzy wave, but he forced himself upright. Straight-backed. Alert. Worthy of the man who trained him.

Vulcan studied him with narrowed eyes, tapping one finger against his elbow. "I heard you manifested chaos particles during your last battle in the graveyard."

There was no room for surprise. Hades knew Vulcan would find out eventually—nothing slipped past him. "Yes, sir. While I was slashing at the mist, I...somehow conjured chaos particles."

"Somehow?" Vulcan’s brow lifted. "You mean you didn’t control it?"

Hades didn’t hesitate. He had never lied to this man. "I allowed my rage to take over me. So yes—it happened somehow."

*KRACK.*

The bamboo slammed into his chest. Pain exploded across his ribs, forcing him stumbling backward as the air was brutally kicked out of his lungs. His vision flickered. For an instant, breathing seemed like a lost skill.

"Lost yourself in your emotions?!" Vulcan’s roar tore through the clearing. "You mean to say my training did nothing? You’re wasting my time here?!"

The fury was justified. Chaos was not a toy. It was a venomous river—step wrong, and it swallowed you whole.

But Hades shook his head. "No, sir. It wasn’t a waste of time...because I consciously controlled the chaos particles afterward. I used them on my enemy."

Vulcan’s eyes thinned. "Explain."

Hades swallowed, choosing his words carefully. "I could feel the chaos surrounding me. It was deafening—blinding. Like something was reaching into my skull and pressing down on every sense I had. It wanted me to give in...just like you said it would."

Vulcan’s silence demanded more.

"So," the boy continued, "I forced myself to remember your teachings. I kept repeating what was at stake—what was on the line. I reminded myself of the people depending on me."

Vulcan had warned him countless times: chaos was intoxicating. The surge of awakening multiple cores at once turned young warriors into arrogant fools—children who mistook insanity for strength, and whose graves were dug long before their glory ever truly began. He had drilled those warnings into Hades with relentless lectures, strikes, and brutal sparring matches. Over and over, he insisted that the moment Hades felt like a god was the moment he’d die like a child.

Hades once believed Vulcan was exaggerating—maybe even underestimating him.

Now he knew better.

"I...can only thank you, sir." Hades bowed his head. "If not for the lessons you forced into me, I might have hurt the very people I’m supposed to protect."

Vulcan exhaled sharply through his nose. A sound between a scoff and acknowledgment. His gaze softened only by a fraction—so small most would miss it. But Hades caught it.

"Well," Vulcan muttered, "you still have what it takes to become a proud dragon. But don’t you dare grow complacent." His voice hardened again. "You are far from the point where you can call yourself the Queen’s heir."

Despite the sting in his ribs, the dull burn across his stomach, and the fatigue creeping into his limbs, Hades allowed himself a small smile. Not of arrogance—of gratitude. Of determination.

"I understand, Sir Vulcan," he said quietly. "And I hope you will continue to guide me."

The wind rustled the leaves above them, carrying the faint scent of sap and steel.

After a brief pause, Vulcan spoke, "Come with me. I want you to kill someone."

Hades didn’t hesitate when Vulcan ordered him forward. Combat drills usually meant another beast, another trial by fang and claw. He rolled his shoulders once, preparing himself mentally.

But the moment Vulcan spoke again, his confidence faltered.

His prediction wasn’t just wrong—it shattered.

"What?" Hades’s eyes widened, breath catching in his throat as the name, the *identity* of the target registered.

"Yes, you heard me right." Vulcan’s tone left no room for doubt. "Go inside...and kill him."

Vulcan stood with his arms crossed, expression carved from stone. There was no hint of jest. No second meaning. Only command.

At the side, a guard shifted anxiously, sweat gathering at his brow. "S-Sir, is this really okay? The criminal inside—he’s an early-stage Duke-rank. He reached that level through...through decades of crime."

His voice trembled despite his uniform.

The prison around them thrummed with dread. Built on the border of Death Well, this place held the worst of Aethernox—the monsters in flesh, the sinners too dangerous to roam the world. Their screams never echoed outside these walls.

Hades had expected a test today, but not this. A criminal execution? A Duke-ranked criminal execution?

"You can shove that advice up your ass," Vulcan growled, not even sparing the guard a glance. "He isn’t your Prince while training under me. He’s a brat who needs to learn what real battle feels like."

The guard’s shoulders slumped immediately. There was truly no point in arguing with the mountain before him.

Vulcan stepped closer to Hades, voice cold as iron. "You will be locked inside for one hour. No guards. No intervention. No assistance." His eyes narrowed. "Anyone crying for help during that hour will be ignored. Understood?"

Hades absorbed every word. Every implication.

No help even if he was on the brink of death.

No escape if the fight turned against him.

Only one of them would walk out.

Hades nodded slowly. "Understood."

His gaze shifted to the thick metal door—dull, scarred, and stained. Something unspoken pressed against it from the other side, a pressure that felt heavy even through the steel.

A strange tension coiled inside him. Excitement? Fear? Anticipation? He wasn’t sure. It wrapped around his chest and throat, making each breath sharp.

But the moment his mind drifted to what was at stake—the future he carried, the people waiting for him, the standard he needed to uphold—the hesitation fled.

Vulcan wouldn’t have chosen this test if Hades wasn’t ready.

Or rather—if he needed to be ready, whether he liked it or not.

Hades straightened his spine, fingers curling into a fist.

"Alright ..I am going."

....

[In the castle]

Luna was in the room, currently knitting a sweater for Hades.

She was alone in the room as Peri and Marilyn had went out to train

It had been three days since that incident but she was still told to rest for the time being.

Luna didn’t resist when Hades looked that stern. He usually never imposes his decision on anyone unless it’s about their safety.

While she curled the wool around the needle she thought about the night they spent together.

Last night was quite sweet.

In his arms, they talked about the past. Many memories which only the two of them share.

A part of him which only she has seen.

The cold and unapproachable Hades who always remained wary of people.

Initially, he kept Luna far away from himself as well. But her consistent prying in his life slowly melted away the caution and he opened up to her.

"Hmm...hmm...hmmmm..." while humming, her fingers moved and her mind kept repeating the moments she spent with her husband last night.

But then,

*Knock*

Someoneone knocked.

"Come in, the door is open." She said,

The door clicked open before a familiar black-haired woman entered.

"Ah, Avalin." Luna smiled, "I wanted to hear someone’s opinion. See, how does it look?" She asked while lifting the sweater.

The ever-stoic woman gave a nod and said, "It will look good on the young master."

Luna smiled before she continued her work and asked, "So? Did you need something from me?"

Avalin hesitated for a moment before she finally said, "I would like to apologize for what you went through. I didn’t investigate the matter properly and without realising the severity of the issue, I assigned the quest to you."

Luna was surprised, "Are you really saying sorry for that?" Luna kept the sweater aside and turned towards the woman, "It was me who came to ask you for a quest. And teacher, I have lived my life like this...surrounded by danger. So please don’t feel guilty about it."

Avalin exhaled a sigh, "If that’s what you think...then how about another quest?"

"...." Luna turned speechless

Avalin looked up, her eyes curved slightly as she said, "Of course, I am joking."

"...."

She...was...trying to be funny?

Should Luna laugh?

Or remain silent?

Help!

°°°°°°°°°

A/N:- Avalin got no expression. Poor Luna is stuck in a mess.

Someone mentioned I am adding too much slice of life so I decided to speed things up a little.