Last Born Of The Desdemona

Chapter 316: Chapter 316 – Reluctant Participation

Chapter 316 – Reluctant Participation

"Moonlight."

Dorian went visibly still at the name. He tilted his head slowly to the left, his all-crimson eyes pulsing strangely, dripping with curiosity and confusion.

"Moonlight?" He echoed after a stretched silence, "Is it just me, or does that sound familiar? Isn’t that the—!"

"The first-ranked in the Academy’s Hall of Fame." Morgan finished for him, nodding, "Yeah, I thought the same the first time Old Mort mentioned it. But then I asked myself...is it really him?"

Morgan’s face scrunched up, "The timeline doesn’t quite line up."

"Wait...do we even know what years Moonlight attended the Academy?" Dorian asked, "I just realized that’s never been mentioned. Everyone just says ’in the past,’ but how far in the past?"

"Exactly why I can’t be certain. We need those details if we want to draw any real conclusions."

Dorian shook his head, expression darkening with annoyance, "No, this is just a bloody mess, Morgan. None of this smells like good morning to me. If I were you, I’d stay out of it."

"This is our family."

"That’s exactly the problem. It’s not, really."

"Whether you like it or not, Mother is a Hood before she’s a Desdemona." Morgan shot back sharply, "She might not be directly affected by the destruction of the Hood bloodline, but that doesn’t mean she’d be entirely unaffected either. We can’t be certain. Who knows how far the First Hood Ancestor’s restrictions actually reach?"

"Morgan...do you genuinely want to dig into all this?"

"With Old Mort as my Shadow, I’m far stronger than I used to be. You wouldn’t know, since he’s resting after our last fight, but the old man is damn strong. He’s taught me a lot about the world too." Morgan’s expression stayed calm and steady, though her aura kept deepening, "You can blame Morgan Desdemona for plenty of things, but not for ingratitude. I repay favors just as hard as I repay grudges."

She paused, then looked at him seriously, "And let’s be honest, Dorian, we’re the ones who distanced ourselves from the Hoods, because of their strange family tree. But they’ve always loved us."

Dorian said nothing. He never knew quite what to say to her, and even if he did, he knew it wouldn’t matter.

Once Morgan decided to do something, she did it, no matter what.

Which was exactly why he always helped her whenever she set her mind to something, it was the next best way to keep her safe should danger arise.

"And think about the bigger picture." Morgan continued, "If the Hoods fall, our standing in the Kingdom becomes deeply fragile. The Stormblessed are still out there, remember? Not to mention the Deathless Crusaders. We’re not exactly beloved, you know. I think you forget that sometimes. And your illegal business, blackmailing and kidnapping young girls and boys for your brothel, doesn’t exactly help our reputation either."

"Argh, enough, I get it." He grumbled, waving a hand at her irritably, "So what? We go stop that damn Domada from destroying the Hoods? But how?"

"The only way he can pull it off is by killing a Hood. So Raven, Esmeray..."

Dorian’s heart skipped a beat.

"...our grandmother Morenna, Uncle Dantes, Aunt Sera, and great-grandmother Hel. Mind you, they could even go after our mother. We need to stop this before any of them get hurt."

The moment Morgan mentioned Esmeray, Dorian didn’t need any more names. That alone was enough to convince him.

Which was deeply, and annoyingly, strange.

’Why do I care this much? Oh Cupid’s stinking arrow, what’s happening to me? Why am I feeling this budding attachment?’

It was unbelievable. One night, and this was the result.

What would happen if it happened again?

Dorian shuddered inwardly with dread.

"Are you with me?" Morgan asked, reaching out to grasp his hand, "Like you always are?"

Dorian shook his head slightly, gathering himself. He looked at his sister, taking in her wounded state, and sighed with exasperation, "Yeah, fuck, like always. And yet I’m not your favorite."

"Hey, I am not my favorite either! We all know it’s Cassius."

"Cassius is special. Three years in Mother’s belly...you remember, there was a time we all thought he’d died in there, only for signs of life to suddenly return? It’s the only time I’ve ever seen both Mother and Father cry."

"We were young back then." Morgan chuckled, eyes distant, "The twins were only three at the time, old enough to understand what was happening. I think that’s what bonded us to him so tightly. We waited three whole years for him, and when he finally arrived, he was the cutest thing I’d ever seen. Sigh, I miss my little brother."

"Ah, so do I." Dorian murmured, smiling with genuine warmth, though beneath it lingered a creeping dread.

"But hey, you’re my second favorite." Morgan said, grinning widely, bumping her fist against his shoulder before turning, walking to sit back on the bed. "I’ve known you the longest, and we have more shared memories. You’re a pervert, sure, but nobody’s perfect. I can live with that."

Dorian chuckled, "Well, lucky you. You’re my second favorite too. Fuck the twins."

"No! Not my two babies!"

"Fuck your two babies. They don’t respect me as their elder brother."

"You don’t act like one. What do you expect?"

"Argh."

"It’s fine, the twins don’t respect anyone anyway."

"Little shits, that’s exactly what they are." Dorian said, then turned to face Morgan directly, "So, sister? Another mission together?"

She grinned, "Looks like it."

"We’re not looping in the Hoods?"

"We’re handling this alone. The Hoods might become liabilities. If any of them die, this whole thing falls apart."

"I see." Dorian nodded, "First we pulled off a heist inside the Royal Palace, stealing a Shadow. Now we’re protecting those same people, going up against an entire sect, all because of that same Shadow."

The two of them exchanged wry smiles.

"You’re such a headache, sister. I’m going to die in one of your ridiculous stunts eventually."

"That’s assuming one of the many husbands you’ve cuckolded doesn’t get to you first."

"Their wives would kill them before any of them so much as touch a single strand of my dazzling white hair. Beauty privilege, sister."

"You mean bedroom-skill privilege."

"That’s rude, sister. We don’t discuss a man’s bedroom skills. Have some tact."

"Well, screw you, brother. Living at a brothel this long has clearly rotted my brain, you can’t blame me for it."

"Just stay quiet and let’s figure out our next move."

"Rude!"

"Tsk."

...

The world kept turning, people everywhere pushing themselves closer to, or further from, their own goals, time refusing to pause for anyone.

And just like that, three days passed.

Inside the Academy, Cassius hadn’t spent that time idle or lazy.

He’d trained with his master, even attempted to learn more about spirits and how to form contracts with them.

That last part was mostly because the triplet fire spirits now followed him everywhere, chattering about anything and everything.

His master had warned that binding three spirits at once might exceed his current rank, but the triplets refused to be contracted separately.

So Cassius was seriously considering going through with it anyway, confident in his own success.

Sometimes you had to stay optimistic.

Alongside that, he’d also experimented with his {Legend}, trying to understand its workings.

It was a surreal experience. In those moments, Cassius didn’t feel human at all. He felt as though he’d become something else entirely — something bordering on whisper, myth...and memory shaped by legend.

But that state came with a time limit, and he still struggled to fully control it. Still, it was worth every bit of effort.

The power was immense.

The Faye Twins had also updated him on their progress, hunting the monster they’d promised him. At the same time, they’d made sure to bring the remaining teammates from their Opening Ceremony team into the Church of the Reader.

Which meant the third ranker of the second year was now officially a believer.

The goddess was thrilled.

There was one other thing that had kept him busy over the three days: Ananke had finally confirmed the exact date for his meeting with Sleeping Beauty.

In two days. In two days, Cassius would stand face to face with another goddess.

To say he was afraid would be putting it mildly. He was utterly terrified.

Still, Cassius knew he had to play the gods’ game now. But this time, not as a Blessed. But as his own player, with his own agenda.

"That’s why I hope this brings me something useful." Cassius said, sitting cross-legged in the middle of his bed, looking at a small transparent crystal, oddly shaped, resting in his palm.

It was the Memory Fragment of High King Trenovar. He hadn’t had time to examine it over the past three days, but now he finally could.

"What do you think I’ll see?" He asked his goddess.

[Hard to say. Could be anything. And given its High King Trenovar, it might be stranger than usual.]

"Hm, yeah, I suppose." He nodded slowly, "So, you said I just need to...swallow it, right?"

[Aye.]

Cassius grunted in acknowledgment.

He studied the transparent crystal for a moment, then opened his mouth wide and tossed it in.

The instant it touched his tongue, it dissolved instantly, releasing a wave of intense essence that swallowed Cassius’s mind whole.

One moment he was in darkness...

"Huh?"

...the next, Cassius found himself inside an old, white-and-gold tavern, entirely empty besides himself, seated at one of the many wooden tables scattered around.

"Where—!"

"My. Interesting."

Cassius froze, snapping his head toward the tavern counter. There stood a ridiculously handsome middle-aged man, hair the color of true, untamed fire, honey-brown eyes so deep and profound Cassius felt an involuntary urge to kneel.

The man wiped down the counter with a red cloth, continuing his work without looking up, a beautiful smile curling his rosy lips as he spoke:

"How did you find your way into one of my dreams, little snake?"

—End of Chapter 316—