Adrian stepped into the village, and his first impression was simple—it looked primitive.

Just like what he had seen in his dreams.

The houses were made of mud and straw, worn down and fragile. Everything looked poor and underdeveloped, completely unlike the city he had come from.

There were no guards at the entrance—and even if there had been, they wouldn't have been able to stop him anyway.

He didn't rush in. Instead, he took his time, scanning the area to see if anyone lived here. But before he could peek into a nearby house, a voice stopped him.

"Not there."

Adrian froze. It felt like… that voice was directed at him.

He turned toward it and saw a woman staring straight at him.

"Huh?" He blinked, unsure. He looked behind himself, but there was no one else around.

She was definitely looking at *him.*

Her dark eyes locked onto his. She wore a white gown that touched the ground, her tangled hair fell over her shoulders, and her back was slightly bent with age.

"Can you hear me?" Adrian asked.

But the woman just repeated the same words, "Not here."

Adrian frowned. What did she mean by that? Did she know who he was searching for? Was she saying Avirin wasn't here?

Trusting his instincts, Adrian started walking deeper into the village.

And the more people he came across, the more uneasy he felt—because all of them could see him too.

He wasn't invisible to them.

That realization sent a strange chill down his spine, but he didn't stop. He kept moving.

Each time he tried to enter a house, someone would call out, "Not there."

It happened again and again.

He searched the entire village, yet somehow, it felt endless—like he was walking in circles. Every path led him back to where he started.

Frustrated, Adrian ignored their warnings and barged into a few houses, only to find nothing inside. No people. No trace of Avirin.

They weren't lying.

His irritation grew stronger with each empty room.

And in the back of his mind, he could still hear Ariana and Ruby's groans of pain echoing, making his heart twist in panic.

"Haa… haa…" He stopped in the middle of the village, breathing hard, hands pressed to his waist.

There were people all around, staring at him—but he didn't care anymore.

His patience had already run out.

So, out of sheer desperation, he shouted—

"AVIRIN!"

He shouted with all his strength, his voice echoing through the silent village.

But the people didn't move. They just stood there, staring blankly at him.

Grinding his teeth, Adrian yelled again, "AVIRIN—"

"Stop it now."

Adrian flinched, spinning around at the sudden voice behind him.

And when he saw who it was, his breath caught.

A man stood there—brown eyes, dark brown hair, shorter than Adrian, and yet about the same age.

For a moment, Adrian couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Are… you Avirin?" he asked carefully.

The man in front of him didn't look like the one from his memories. Back then, Avirin had been older—rounder in the face, shorter, and far less youthful.

The stranger gave a short sigh before replying, "Come with me."

He walked past Adrian without another word, heading toward the same path Adrian had entered from.

Adrian quickly followed, his mind spinning with confusion.

As they walked through the village, he noticed something strange—the people who had been staring at him moments ago had stopped. They were back to their daily routines, as if his presence no longer mattered.

It was as though, now that someone had come to fetch him, everything was back to normal.

The man, who Adrian assumed really was Avirin, led him to a small hut near the far end of the village. It was plain and hidden, barely noticeable among the other houses.

Adrian blinked in disbelief.

He had walked around this place three times already… yet somehow, he had never seen this hut before.

As they entered, the man gestured for Adrian to sit on the small, makeshift bed pushed up against the wall.

The hut was dimly lit—only a single oil lamp flickered on a wooden table in the corner, casting soft orange light over the room. The air smelled faintly of ash and dry herbs.

A few clay pots and scrolls were stacked neatly on a shelf, while bundles of grass hung from the ceiling, swaying gently whenever the wind slipped through the cracks in the wall.

Everything looked old but well-kept, as if the place had seen many quiet years.

Adrian sat down, his heart restless. The faint echoes of his lover's painful grunts still rang in his head, tightening his chest. "Can you help me?" he asked urgently. "I want to get out of this place—now."

The man let out a slow sigh. "You're already out."

Adrian frowned, completely thrown off. "What do you mean by that?"

The man turned toward him, holding a small glass of water. "You're conscious," he said calmly, "but you can't control your emotions right now. That's why your mind brought you here. It's a kind of defense mechanism—to stop you from seeing what kind of monster you might become."

Adrian froze. His body went still before he fell back onto the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.

He was… consciously hurting them?

The thought struck him like a blade to the chest.

The man took a sip of water and sat down on a small stool nearby, giving Adrian time to process everything. The faint sound of crackling from the oil lamp filled the silence.

It didn't take long before Adrian finally spoke again, his voice trembling. "What in the world… has happened to me?"

The man leaned back against the wooden rack behind him, his brown eyes fixed on Adrian.

For a long moment, he stayed silent, then finally spoke. "You died," he said evenly, "and in doing so, you broke the pact you made a long time ago. That pact was the only thing binding you to your human side. Now that it's gone, you've lost control."

Adrian stared at him, his throat tightening.

Taking another slow sip of water, the man continued, "When that pact shattered, every emotion you felt—hunger, anger, sorrow—became too strong. Any one of them would have completely blinded you, overwhelmed your mind."

He raised the glass slightly toward Adrian, his expression unreadable. "But the first emotion you felt upon awakening…" His voice dropped lower. "…was sadism."

Adrian's heart sank as the words settled in.

The man set the glass down on the stool, leaning forward. "And because of that… your partners are now being abused by you—consciously. It's just that you can't control yourself anymore."

The faint flicker of the lamp cast shadows across Adrian's pale face as his trembling hands fell to the side.

°°°°°°°

A/N:- Thanks for reading. I have changed something in the chapter that might as well had many readers drop this book.

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