Xyrene let out a long sigh as she lay sprawled across the bed, naked and resting against Cyn's chest. Her fingers traced the scar over his torso, following its rough edge with slow curiosity.

"Mmm… so that's how it is," she murmured. "But there's no traitor like that among us. In the end, we all share the same interests."

Cyn ran his fingers through her hair, idly playing with it.

"The Raging Floods… I heard from Kassal that there's a royal movement planning to go after guilds like theirs soon—those who profit off war, bandits, mercenaries. Will they be included?"

A faint smile crossed Xyrene's lips.

"Impossible—at least for now. After the investigation, the Raging Floods seem to have support from inside the palace. That's why they've risen so fast and gained that level of influence."

That caught Cyn off guard.

Support from inside the palace? Who? And why didn't I hear about this? Does that mean someone in the palace already has their eye on me? One of the king's wives? A prince? A commander?

"Hmph," Cyn muttered. "Whoever it is, they know I'm behind the Raven Bloodline Guild. They're targeting me now, and they know I have hidden places where I'm running… let's say, things that shouldn't be discovered."

Xyrene shifted slightly.

"So that's why you came here?"

"Several reasons," Cyn said, evasive.

She cut him off sharply.

"Look! I'm not handing you the other key. Okay?"

Cyn pressed on.

"Why did we build it in the first place if I wasn't going to use it? And besides, what stopped us before is no longer a problem. The Church, the Temple, their agents… they're no longer crawling around the palace. Or at least there are far fewer of them now. They've got something else keeping them busy—I gave them something else to chase."

Xyrene's tone became unreadable.

"I gave them something…" She sighed. "But no. Building a lab inside the palace—inside my wing—was the biggest mistake I ever made. You turned it into a slaughterhouse for reasons only you know. All under the pretext of 'research' and 'science,' when in truth it was… indulgence."

Cyn cut her off.

"That's not what it was. You don't understand. Because—"

"Because what?" she snapped. "Because we're primitive people living in a backwards kingdom? That a barbarian fisherman who didn't even know how to read somehow understands more than we do? In the Lord's name, Cyn, you are not—"

She paused, staring at him.

"—unless you're pretending to be."

Cyn smiled faintly.

There was no point explaining anatomy or medicine to her. Their people excelled at architecture and ornamentation… but this? This was beyond them.

Well… they excel at some other things too, he mused. They certainly know how to move their hips around a cock.

He stroked her hair.

"Maybe you're right. But, Xyrene… you'll give me the key. Won't you?"

She smiled like someone waiting for the perfect moment.

"Maybe. I might hand it to you. But under one condition."

She paused.

"No—more like a request."

Cyn laughed softly.

"You know I'd do anything for you, key or no key."

She chuckled too, her warm breath brushing against his chest, making him twitch slightly. Her fingers wandered across his scar, then to his throat, and even his lips—touching him as if he were some prized possession.

"So?" Cyn asked. "What do you want me to do? Knock someone up? Because I'm not planning on any children anytime soon."

Xyrene burst out laughing.

"Oh, fuck no. That's not it. But hey, not a bad idea. You can try it on your own. Esmond would be delighted to find his wives pregnant from his concubine's lover."

Cyn nodded seriously.

"He actually would."

She stopped and stared at him, confused and amused at the same time ' you meant that for real?!'

Finally, Xyrene leaned in.

"Do you remember when you told me you had medical skills? Anatomy and all that?"

Cyn's expression sharpened.

"Oh, I remember. Very well. Especially since I'll need my lab—and the key—if you want me to use them ' Science And anatomy ahaha'."

"Good," she said. "There's someone sick. Someone who needs help. I want you to try those things you told me about. Just… don't fuck it up."

Cyn replied calmly,

"I need to see the person first. To check their condition, diagnose them, and figure out what I can even do. Some things are above my capabilities right now. My setup isn't complete—machines, tools, materials…"

Xyrene brushed it off.

"If we're trying to cure them, then of course it's serious. Naturally… I'll return your key."

Her fingers slid along his neck.

"Right here. Where it belongs."

Cyn asked, cautious,

"So that's it? That's all you want?"

A sly smile crept across her face.

"Well… maybe not. Do you remember when I traded something with Estrida?"

"Yeah," he replied with a half-smile. "And now you've got yourself a dick coated in other women's juices."

Xyrene leaned back, smirking lazily.

"Oh, please. It's never that dramatic for women. But for men…" She tilted her head, eyes narrowing with amusement. "You lose your minds when you realize the pussy you're pounding was filled with another man's seeds."

Cyn stared at the ceiling in silence, then agreed mildly,

"Fair point. But?"

"But what?" she asked.

Cyn snorted.

"I mean—look at Esmond. His wife and concubines are getting fucked and pounded daily, and he won't say a word."

She poked his chest sharply.

"You'll understand one day. But for now—don't you want to know what I traded you for?"

Cyn had no clue. His silence confirmed it for her.

"It was a piece of information. A very valuable one."

He scoffed.

"More valuable than me?"

She frowned in a cute, irritated way.

"Can you just listen? Listen, and you'll understand."

Cyn kept quiet. Clearly, this meant a lot to her.

She continued,

"I told you before about living scars. But what I didn't tell you is that these living scars are individual beings. They choose their hosts carefully. Some of their strength comes from your wounds and injuries—they feed on them. But their true power comes from within themselves, from their own domain."

Her voice darkened.

"That's what makes living scars like entities. Beings whose sole purpose is to survive and endure. Ancient beings. In other words… immortal."

Cyn already knew this—at least in part. His own scar made it obvious. Yet he had avoided thinking about it too deeply… especially after everything that happened recently.

Xyrene's voice flowed through the room:

"Some people find no meaning in life. They say life is pointless. Do you know why? Because no matter what you do… you die in the end."

She continued, her tone eerily calm, yet turbulent underneath:

"Death is the grave of all. In the end, what remains of you are memories. If you're an ordinary person, your children and grandchildren will remember you. Then their children will remember only your name… until a few generations later, even that memory fades.

And if you're important—famous—you'll be recorded in history. But history fades too. Eventually, it will crumble, and so will you. No one will know you ever existed."

She breathed out slowly.

"It's terrifying… but in a strange way, comforting."

She looked at him, eyes deep.

"There's peace in death. Peace in accepting that nothing lasts. Do you know why?"

A small smile tugged at her lips.

"Because deep down, you know everyone else will die too—and be forgotten. That shared fate… makes the burden lighter."

Cyn watched her quietly. Something in her tone was shifting—anger, longing, ambition.

Xyrene inhaled, then finished with a cold whisper:

"But you know, Cyn…

If you die believing life is meaningless, you'll rest forever in peace.

But—"

Her eyes gleamed with a strange fire.

"—if you die knowing there's a way to become immortal…

then you'll rot in eternal torment, even inside your grave."

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