Luna frowned the moment she heard the voice echoing from the treehouse.

"That doesn't sound like my father." She said quietly, her brows knitting together. "And it doesn't sound like the younger elf he brought with him either."

Lulu tilted her head, confusion written all over her face. "Then who is it?" She asked. "Didn't all the male elves leave already? Other than Father and that one guy?"

Before Luna could answer, Luca spoke calmly, already moving forward.

"We won't know unless we check."

The three of them hurried up the wooden stairs spiraling around the massive tree. The steps creaked beneath their feet as they circled upward, the leaves rustling softly around them.

And when Luca reached the platform the house was built on and pushed open the door of the house, they weren't greeted by voices or movement—but by smoke instead.

Thick, acrid smoke poured out of the house, carrying with it a sharp, pungent scent that stung the nose and made the eyes water.

"Ugh!" Lulu coughed, waving her hand in front of her face. "What is that smell?!" She scrunched up her nose dramatically. "It's horrible! Even Luna's cooking doesn't smell this bad!"

"Shut up, Lulu!" Luna snapped, though her voice carried more exasperation than anger.

Luca on the other hand didn't say anything.

His eyes had already dropped to the floor, as near the entrance sat a pot filled with burning herbs—twisted sticks, dried leaves, crushed roots—all smoldering together and releasing that suffocating smell.

The smoke curled unnaturally, clinging to the room instead of dispersing.

'This isn't incense.' Luca thought. 'This is something else.'

He then stepped inside, his gaze sweeping across the living room.

It was simple and rustic—wooden chairs, a low table, shelves carved from tree bark holding fruit, cloth, and small trinkets.

It should have felt warm. Comfy.

Instead, it felt wrong.

Strange banners hung from the walls—dark cloth painted with symbols that didn't resemble anything Luca had seen so far in the village.

Red markings were smeared across the wooden walls, crude and uneven, like someone had drawn them in a hurry.

Lines, circles, symbols that looked halfway between prayer and curse.

It looked less like a home...and more like a ritual chamber.

Luca turned slowly to the sisters.

"Is this some kind of decoration elves normally use?" He asked carefully. "Because if it is, I'll be honest, it's...unsettling and I recommend you hiring a interior designer."

"Ha!" Lulu snorted. "Who in their right mind would keep ugly decorations like this?"

"No way, that's all my father's work." She said, pointing at the hanging charms. "He's the one who put these banners up and scribbled all over the walls. He says it's part of his 'healing method,' something about sealing the ailment in the room so it doesn't spread."

She rolled her eyes.

"But it looks more like he's trying to summon some demon then heal someone."

Luca crouched down, noticing a scattering of seeds across the wooden floor.

"And these?" He asked.

"Also his idea." Lulu sighed and crossed her arms. "He said the seeds represent 'the birth of life,' and that their life energy would calm her spirit and heal her body. Or...something ridiculous like that."

"Honestly, none of it makes sense."

Luca's eyes narrowed slightly, though he didn't comment.

As much as the sight unsettled him, he reminded himself that this world operated under entirely different rules.

What seemed superstitious to him might hold real meaning here.

He decided to reserve judgment—at least for now.

The commotion from deeper inside the house caught his attention again. .

"Come on." He said quietly, motioning to the sisters. "Let's see what's happening."

They passed through a short wooden corridor and stepped into a smaller bedroom.

And the moment they did—all three froze.

Inside were Leona, Nyx, Julius, and the young male elf who had accompanied him earlier. Nyx was holding little Lisa close, the child trembling, her small hands clutching Nyx's dress as if she were about to cry.

And in the center of the room—on the bed—lay Esme.

Luca felt his chest tighten at the sight.

She was exactly as Luna had described earlier: emaciated to the point of heartbreak.

Her arms were thin as twigs, her skin pale and sunken, her cheeks hollowed so much that her bones pressed visibly beneath.

Her green eyes were still bright, but they were the only part of her that seemed alive anymore.

Her wrists and ankles were also swollen and puffy, contrasting sharply with the rest of her frail body.

But even now, Luca could tell she must have been a beautiful woman once.

Her facial features still held traces of elegance and grace, but now her beauty was buried beneath exhaustion and suffering.

But what caught his attention next was the man standing near her bed.

He was a tall elf, slightly older, with slicked-back hair and sharp, handsome features.

But his expression was twisted in anger and disgust. He even covered his mouth with a white handkerchief as if afraid to breathe the same air.

Before Luca could even ask who he was, the man turned sharply toward them and barked,

"This is my wife! This is a family matter! None of you have the right to interfere! I can say whatever I please to her—it's none of your concern!"

Nyx flinched at his tone, tightening her hold on Lisa, whose eyes filled with tears.

Leona's gaze on the other hand turned deathly cold.

Her voice, when she spoke even made Luca surprised at how scary she sounded.

"First of all, Rufus." She said icily. "She is not your wife anymore. You left her. You abandoned her and chose to live among the humans. She cut all ties with you long ago."

Her tone hardened further. "And second, even if she were still your wife, no decent man would speak that way to a woman lying helpless in bed. Especially not one suffering as she is."

But the man—Rufus—snapped back, still clutching his handkerchief tightly.

"I'm simply speaking the truth, aren't I?" He sneered, pointing at Esme with cruel disdain.

"Just look at her! Look how ugly she's become! Her face is hollow, her body's a skeleton! I married her for her beauty—but now? Now she's nothing but a shadow!"

Luna and Lulu were baffled by what they just heard, while Rufus continued, his words full of malice.

"Just think about it! If she'd come with me—if she'd listened to her husband—none of this would've happened! She wouldn't have fallen ill, she wouldn't look like this!"

He spat the word like poison.

"But she refused. She stayed here in this cursed place, and now look at her! Miserable, pitiful! Tell me, who would want such a woman now? And let me just tell you that even if she begged me on her knees, I wouldn't take her back."

Hearing those cruel words, Leona's expression twisted with pure rage, so much so that for a fleeting moment she looked like she wanted to lunge across the room and choke Rufus on the spot.

Nyx, on the other hand, remained outwardly calm, but her face was tight, her brows furrowed deeply.

There was a trembling in her lips and a dangerous glimmer in her eyes—a quiet fury that looked ready to explode if pushed any further.

Julius, however, didn't look particularly disturbed.

He stood there with his usual detached smile, as if he were watching a play unfold rather than witnessing cruelty. The young elf beside him seemed equally unbothered, even entertained.

Both of them looked like they were just waiting to see what would happen next.

But for Esme and Lisa...the scene was unbearable.

Little Lisa was trembling so hard her tiny hands wouldn't stop shaking.

She buried her face into Nyx's chest again, sobbing so loudly it hurt to hear, unable to process that the man shouting was her own father.

"Why...Why is father saying such bad things…"

Her small voice cracked between hiccupped cries as she tried to call out for him, but no sound would come out properly.

And Esme—though she couldn't move a single muscle from her waist down—could still hear everything.

She could still see her husband standing there, covering his nose like she was something foul, spitting those horrible words at her.

Her lips trembled faintly, tears forming in her hollowed eyes and her heart broke silently.

She had loved him once—deeply.

She had believed, as any wife would, that her husband would love her in sickness and in health, in beauty and in decay.

She had imagined him holding her hand if she ever fell ill.

Yet now, here he was—calling her ugly, disgusting, worthless in front of everyone.

Her tears fell slowly down her cheeks. Not because she was angry, but because she believed him.

Somewhere inside, she began to feel that maybe...she was ugly now.

That she truly was a burden.

'Maybe he's right.' She thought helplessly. 'Maybe I really am like a monster right now...maybe I really do look disgusting.'

Meanwhile, Lulu's fists clenched so tight they were trembling and her face twisted with fury.

Luna beside her was glaring too. But her expression was sharper, colder just like her mother's.

Luca, however, didn't react outwardly.

He stood still with an calm face like he was simply assessing the situation.

Then slowly, he turned toward Nyx and whispered quietly,

"Who is this idiot yelling at her like that? He doesn't look like the doctor to me."

Nyx kept her gaze fixed on Esme and Rufus, her tone low but simmering with restraint emotion.

"We quickly came here after hearing Lisa's cry." She said quietly. "But when we arrived, he was already here—Rufus. Her husband."

Her lip curled slightly.

"Or, rather, her former husband."

Luca's eyes narrowed.

"Normally, you would expect a husband visiting his sick wife to take care of her, to help her out, to comfort her...But he didn't come to do any of that."

Nyx said like it was a joke and went on to sharply say,

"He came to blame her. The moment we entered, he was shouting exactly like this—saying everything was her fault, that she was cursed, that if she'd followed him back to the human lands, she'd still be beautiful and healthy."

She shook her head slightly.

"He's been screaming at her for several minutes now, while she lies there, barely breathing. Can you believe that?"

"Wow." Luca exhaled slowly, then gave a dry, humorless chuckle. "That doesn't sound like something a husband would say to his wife. That sounds like something a man with a deep grudge would do."

He looked toward Rufus, wondering what was going on in his head.

"Actually, to speak like that to someone who's on her deathbed...even the worst scum I've seen would hesitate before doing that."

Nyx turned to glance at him briefly, her lips curling into a small smile.

"Well, at least now you can see how the male elves used to treat us. How they still think of us. Maybe this gives you a clearer picture of why we chose to separate from them."

Luca was about to reply—something about how they hadn't started a war with them already—but before he could, Lisa suddenly pushed herself out of Nyx's arms and ran forward.

"Lisa, wait—!" Nyx reached out, but it was too late.

The little girl ran straight toward Rufus, her eyes full of tears, her small voice shaking.

"Father, please!" She cried, her voice shaking. "Don't say those things to Mother! She's...She's doing her best! She didn't want to be sick, she didn't!"

"And right now, she can't even eat or walk, and she's hurting so much! So, please don't make it worse! Please!"

Her little hands grabbed the edge of his sleeve desperately, tugging at it, her eyes wide and wet with pleading sorrow.

But instead of comforting her—instead of picking her up and holding her—Rufus took a sharp step back, his face twisting in disgust.

"Don't come near me!"

He snapped, his voice filled with repulsion.

"I said stay back, Lisa! I don't want to catch this disease from you!"

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