Viktor's eyes opened slowly, the darkness of the room gradually giving way to dim shapes and shadows.

Pain throbbed through his torso—dull and persistent, like someone was pressing hot coals against his belly and back.

He groaned, the sound low and rough in his throat.

Carefully, he shifted his weight, feeling the tight pull of bandages wrapped around his midsection.

The memory of the daggers flashed through his mind—the cold steel punching through flesh, the wet sound of blood hitting marble, the looks on their faces.

He shook his head, pushing the images away.

As his vision cleared, he noticed them.

Helena and Mira, curled up on either side of him on the bed, their breathing slow and even in sleep. Between them, little Toby was nestled against Mira's chest, his tiny fist clutching her dress.

Viktor exhaled slowly, taking in the sight.

'Haah,' he thought, something warm and uncomfortable stirring in his chest. 'All night, they stayed beside me.'

His mind drifted back to the chaos hours earlier.

Using Mira as bait had been risky—dangerously so.

But it had worked.

Bella had lunged for her exactly as he'd predicted, giving him the several profits from single painful encounter.

'Elena, you did not lack to amaze me.' Viktor admitted to himself. The thought surprised him. 'I would deginelty make sure to return to you one day with the same gift you sent me.'

Thinking about how Elena or others need to be taught a lesson in this life, he took a breath before considering the reason he orchestrated all of this.

Their loyalty was climbing—he could feel it, see it in the way they'd broken down when they thought he was dying.

And with their pregnancies progressing, with the children growing inside them, that loyalty needed to be rock-solid.

Because who knew what would happen after they gained powers? After they birthed his children who inherited abilities from him and they too gotten all his power?

'Not that it matters,' Viktor thought grimly, already saw how until the end the soldiers, the commoners and everyone of his kingdom stood on his side until the end—he have already saw the two faces of humanity.

And specially for Mira and Helena—he trusted them since rather than letting past of unfaithful bitch like Elena whom he never consider his own, he will trust those who stood beside him in last life... the ones for whom he died and fought till the end.

His thoughts wandered to his past life.

To the people he'd protected, the ones he'd sacrificed himself for even when he hated it. Even when every logical part of him screamed to abandon them.

'I couldn't do it then either,' he realized. 'Once they were mine, once I claimed them... I couldn't leave them behind.'

He hated that about himself. That stubborn, self-destructive loyalty that made him throw himself on daggers for people who might eventually betray him.

Amusingky though, none of his comrades—from servants of Redwood kingdom to commoners—he trusted betrayed him in that way at all till their last breath.

So, he got eyes for people.

Slowly, Viktor sat up, biting back a hiss as pain lanced through his wounds. The stitches held, but everything felt tight and raw.

He swung his legs off the bed, bare feet touching the cold floor. His gaze lingered on Helena and Mira, both still sleeping peacefully despite the chaos of the day.

'They need rest,' he thought. 'After everything...'

Viktor reached for the blanket that had been kicked to the foot of the bed. He pulled it up gently, covering both women and Toby.

As he adjusted the fabric over Helena, his eyes caught on her torn dress—the neckline ripped, exposing the curve of her cleavage. The fabric was shredded in places, evidence of their earlier... activities.

Viktor's jaw clenched.

'Fuck,' he thought, guilt twisting in his gut. 'I didn't even think about getting her proper clothes after. Just... used her and left her like this.'

He was a piece of shit. He knew it.

His lust had taken over, and he'd completely forgotten about the aftermath—about making sure she was comfortable, clothed, taken care of.

'I need to do better,' Viktor told himself, though part of him wondered if he actually would.

He tucked the blanket around them more securely, then stood.

His body protested every movement, muscles stiff and sore. He stretched carefully, testing his range of motion. The bandages held, but he could feel the wounds pulling beneath them.

Viktor crossed the room to a dirty mirror hanging on the wall. Dust covered the glass, making his reflection blurry and indistinct.

He unwrapped the bandages slowly, wincing as fabric peeled away from healing flesh.

The wounds were... better than they should've been.

The stab wound in his belly—the one where the assassin's dagger had buried itself—was closed by neat stitches, the skin around them pink and irritated but not infected. And it was healing. Faster than it should.

'The Abilties I got from Helena,' Viktor realized, running his fingers carefully along the edge of the wound. 'That's why I'm not dead right now.'

The ability he'd gained from her wasn't useful like Mira in training or physical work but was keeping him alive.

Accelerating his healing to inhuman levels.

His eyes traced the marks of both daggers. Front and back. Entry and exit points.

He'd lost weight. A lot of it. His reflection showed sharper cheekbones, a leaner frame. Three, maybe four kilograms gone in just a few days.

'Unnatural,' Viktor thought, but not unexpected. The herbs he'd been consuming were basically medieval steroids—burning through his body's reserves at an insane rate.

Combined with the constant training, the sex, the injuries...

His body was cannibalizing itself to keep up.

But it was working. He was getting stronger. Faster. More resilient.

Viktor wrapped the bandages back around his torso, tying them off with practiced efficiency.

Then he left the room.

The hallway was dark and quiet. His bare feet made no sound on the cold marble as he moved.

And then he saw her.

Kaida.

She was sprawled on the sofa in the hallway, one arm thrown over her eyes, the other resting on her stomach. Her red hair was a mess, her clothes still stained with his blood from earlier.

Viktor's eyes lingered on her for a moment.

'If I got her,' he thought, his mind automatically calculating, 'I'd have absolute power. Her strength, her abilities... combined with the others...'

His gaze traveled down her body—the toned muscles visible even through her clothes, the curve of her waist, the way her shirt had ridden up slightly to expose a strip of pale skin.

Viktor swallowed hard and forced himself to look away.

'What the fuck is wrong with me?' he thought, annoyed at himself. 'I ignored this shit for years in my past life, and now I can't go five minutes without—'

He cut the thought off.

It had only been four or five days since he'd started... indulging. But it felt like he'd opened some kind of floodgate that he couldn't close anymore.

'I need to focus,' Viktor told himself. 'There's more important things than—'

His thoughts stopped as he noticed Kaida's hand.

It was wrapped around the hilt of her dagger, fingers loose but ready. Her body language was too controlled, too still.

'She's awake,' Viktor realized.

He shook his head and kept walking, moving past her toward the room where they'd left the slave woman—Bella.

As he passed, Kaida's jaw clenched visibly. Then she shifted, pressing her hand against her forehead and muttering just loud enough for him to hear.

"You better be sorry, bastard."

Viktor paused mid-step but didn't turn around.

'She knows,' he thought. 'She figured it out.'

Of course she had. Kaida wasn't stupid. Once the panic and guilt faded, once she had time to actually think through what happened, she would've realized the truth.

The assassin's target wasn't Mira. It was Helena. But Viktor had confused everyone—positioned Mira in Helena's maid uniform, called her by Helena's name, made the assassin think she was going after the right person.

And Kaida, with her sharp instincts and protective rage, had done exactly what he'd predicted. Tried to kill the assassin to save her sister.

Only to end up stabbing Viktor instead.

'She's pissed,' Viktor thought, a small smirk tugging at his lips despite the pain. 'But she'll get over it. Eventually.'

He could feel Kaida's glare burning into his back even though her eyes were supposedly closed.

This was the first time Mira had ever been genuinely angry with her. The first time their sisterly bond had been strained to the breaking point.

And Kaida hated it.

But more than that, she was confused.

Viktor knew she was trying to figure him out. Trying to reconcile the perverted bastard who spent half his time chasing women with the calculating manipulator who'd just orchestrated an entire assassination attempt to his advantage.

'What exactly is he?' Kaida was probably thinking. 'A pervert? A shrewd strategist? Or just... an idiot?'

Viktor's smirk widened slightly.

'All three,' he thought. 'Depending on the day.'

He reached the door to Bella's room and stopped, his hand resting on the handle.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, though he wasn't sure if he was talking to Kaida, to Bella, or to himself. "For manipulating things."

Behind him, Kaida's breathing hitched.

But she didn't respond.

Viktor opened the door and stepped inside, leaving her alone in the dark hallway with her thoughts and her anger and her confusion.

And for once, he didn't have a plan for what came next.

"Don't hurt Sister Mira... she has sacrificed many things in her life."

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