CHAPTER 166: CHAPTER-166.

He looked nothing like the usual Beastmen, who towered like warriors born from legends. No rugged frame, no ominous aura. Just a boy. Eighteen at best, with wide, guilty eyes and messy hair that seemed too soft for someone who’d just been threatened with a full-body feather plucking.

Kaya didn’t say anything. She just stared. One eyebrow slowly lifted, the only trace of reaction on her otherwise unreadable face.

As the soft moonlight filtered through the trees and gently lit his face, Kaya’s gaze slowly traced the features of the boy standing before her.

He had tan skin, the kind that spoke of time spent under the open sky, and brown hair that fell messily over his forehead. Faint white streaks lined his hair—thin and barely visible, like old scars or the last trace of feathers. His eyes were black, warm yet hesitant, flickering up to meet Kaya’s with the nervousness of someone who knew they were in trouble but didn’t yet understand how much.

He wore a loose t-shirt and half-pants made from some soft animal hide—not furry, just rough enough to look handmade. The outfit looked simple, almost lazy, like something a teenager would throw on after a long nap, not something suited for a dramatic transformation from a spiral of light and feathers.

Kaya had seen his back countless times when she pretended to sleep, but never clearly—never like this, she stared at him fully, voice turning cold as stone.

"So, who are you? Why are you following me? And what do you want?" Kaya asked in one breath, sharp and cutting.

The sparrow trembled at her sudden confrontation. "Um... um... um..." he stammered, his voice—strangely pleasant, soft and nothing like the chirping sound he usually made—touched the air.

Kaya narrowed her eyes. That voice. It didn’t match him. Still cold, she asked again, firmer this time, "I said—what? Who? Why?"

The sparrow looked at her, then down, as if ashamed. A moment passed. Then another. And finally, in the smallest voice, he said, "I... I didn’t come to you. You brought me."

Kaya blinked, confusion flashing in her gaze. She stared at him like he had just spoken in riddles.

"Are you joking with me?" she asked, her expression unreadable.

The sparrow looked at her, eyes wide with that pitiful, victim-like gaze, and whispered,

"No... you brought me, remember? The vultures? And then... you brought me."

Remember?

Oh.

Right.

It had been a while—long enough that she’d nearly forgotten.

She had brought the sparrow back that day... to eat it.

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she stared at him—no, not a sparrow anymore, but a boy. And a beast man, no less.

Kaya’s voice came out low and sharp. "Oh, I remember now." Her gaze flicked over him like a blade. "But who the hell was supposed to tell me that you’re a beast man, huh?"

The boy didn’t flinch. He didn’t even meet her eyes. Instead, in a soft, almost lifeless tone, he mumbled,

"I never said... I’m not a beast man."

A silence stretched between them, brittle and cold.

Kaya’s expression turned frigid. The muscles around her jaw tightened.

"You..." Her voice was a whisper, but it could’ve frozen bone.

The sparrow trembled, his wings—no, arms now—slightly curling inwards as if to shield himself from the weight of her gaze.

"It’s not my fault..." he whispered, voice cracking.

He quickly lifted one hand to cover his face, instinctive, like someone used to being struck. Like someone trying to protect the part that hurts the most.

His voice quivered, but there was a flicker of something else behind it—defensiveness, maybe even spite.

"Everyone else can smell a beastman... they can just tell—who’s beastmen, who’s not."

He peeked through his fingers, eyes narrowing just a little. "How was I supposed to know you’re such a fool? I mean—such an innocent person that you can’t even tell the difference?"

The word innocent tasted strange coming from him, like it had been dipped in mockery.

He flinched right after, as if expecting her wrath.

He waited.

Even after a few seconds... the hit didn’t come.

Cautiously, he opened one eye, then slowly lowered his hand. His breath hitched when he saw Kaya—arms crossed, eyes fixed on him—not angry, not amused. Just... calm. Too calm.

Then she spoke.

Her voice was smooth, almost soft, but something in it felt wrong. Strangely calm—like still water before a sudden drop.

"So, you mean a beastman can tell if the other person is a beastman... right?"

The sparrow quickly nodded, unsure where this was going.

"Doesn’t matter how weak the other beastman is... they can still sense it, right?"

Another nod. His throat bobbed nervously.

Then Kaya asked, "Did Vayu and the cutie know you’re a beastman?"

At that, something snapped in the sparrow. His fear flared into rage, sharp and hot.

"Of course that damn snake knew!" he spat, voice rising with fury. "That’s why he always wanted to eat me! He knew I was injured—easy prey. That’s why he kept circling around me, trying to get a chance. If I wasn’t hurt, I’d have killed that snake a long time ago!"

But mid-rant, his eyes drifted back to Kaya... and froze.

Her expression had changed.

The calm was gone.

Darkness had crept in, curling around her features like storm clouds. Her eyes weren’t cold now—they were empty. Void. Dangerous.

Then, unexpectedly, Kaya asked the question that had been troubling her for a while—something she hadn’t voiced to anyone. Her tone remained calm, like she was asking about the weather. But her arms uncrossed, her posture shifted ever so slightly.

"Can you tell me..." she began, eyes still on the sparrow-boy, "why I’m sleeping so much lately? Like—do you know if there’s something wrong with me? Or anything... around me?"

It wasn’t a demand. It was almost... curious. Measured. Like she already knew something was wrong, and she was simply confirming a truth.

Kaya had been watching him for a while now. Even if she’d never seen his full beastman form—whatever that looked like—she knew. This sparrow was more than he let on.

Quiet. Watchful. He was the kind who noticed everything... while no one noticed him.