Gray lay still on the cot, eyes closed, breath calm and steady. It seemed as if he had slipped deep into thought, forgetting the world around him. In his mind, memories of life in the village drifted by like falling leaves.
He could feel the love and devotion from his mother, Grace, Cassia, and the elderly villagers who had raised him. He felt hope—hope that he would finally be healed and stand as an equal beside his sister, without the constant threat of premature death. But he also felt fear, that the healing might fail. He felt anger and resentment toward the god, toward his father, and toward the people who had branded him a monster. And he felt a quiet exhaustion from the endless struggle to surpass his limits.
Selene did not rush. She knew the task ahead would be difficult and that it would be best if the boy had time to compose himself and cooperate. She could clearly sense all the emotions he tried to hide behind his stoic mask and polished manners. No matter how intelligent or refined Gray might appear, he was still a child—and his attempt to deceive the keen senses of a celestial being came off more endearing than deceptive in Selene's eyes.
After patiently waiting for his emotions to settle, Selene spoke in a sharp, no-nonsense voice:
"Take off your shirt. We'll be working directly with your magical core, so it's best that nothing interferes with contact."
The boy obeyed, baring his pale, skinny torso. Though Gray was thin, his muscles were finely outlined—his body bore the shape of someone who trained tirelessly. A noticeable scar stretched across his chest and back.
"First, we'll test your body's natural response to various magical stimuli. I understand you've undergone similar diagnostics before, and I've read Albedo's report. But I need to observe your reactions personally. There are things only an elf can perceive," she explained.
"Alright," Gray replied simply.
Selene went to work, applying tinctures of elemental herbs, having him drink small doses, or rubbing the extracts onto his skin. The reactions were as expected—identical to Albedo's findings. Most elements, except Light and Darkness, caused no response at all. But whenever either of those two polarities entered his system, they vanished without a trace, leaving behind a searing pain that radiated through his body like liquid fire.
To keep himself from screaming or biting his tongue, Gray stuffed a gag into his mouth. His body shivered and twisted in spasms, yet he never allowed himself to faint. With a desperate look in his eyes, he asked Selene to strap down his head and limbs to the cot. The elf was stunned. Few grown men could endure such agony without losing consciousness.
Until now, everyone believed Gray was unable to develop due to the absence of a magical core and residual divine energy. But Selene found that laughable. Her tests made it abundantly clear: the root of Gray's condition was not absence, but chaos. A silent, invisible war waged within his body—between Light and Darkness. These two diametrically opposed forces had reached a fragile stalemate, each trying to dominate the other, using Gray's body as their battlefield.
His innate magical core had been shattered. The energies of Darkness had dispersed throughout his body—and the Light had followed suit. Now, both forces fought endlessly, disrupting his meridians and leaving no room for order.
The worst part was that the war had stabilized. After years of conflict, the two sides had achieved equilibrium, each draining the other slowly in a war of attrition. The battle could rage on forever—longer than Gray's lifespan.
Eventually, the boy passed out. Selene continued her work, channeling life magic into him, forcing his body to break down and regenerate repeatedly, in hopes of locating the source of the Light. But there was nothing to be found.
Selene wracked her brain, desperately searching for a solution. Life magic excelled at healing. If the problem had been simply a destroyed magical core, she could have restored it with ease. But the true issue lay in the chaos born from the clash of Light and Darkness.
The Light was foreign to his body, while the Darkness was native—this much was obvious. Yet the fact that the Light wasn't fading, that it fought with equal vigor, baffled her.
No matter how much Darkness she and the villagers had infused into Gray, the Light refused to dim. It was replenishing itself—something that should have been impossible. Divine energy, as powerful as it might be, did not regenerate. It was like a brilliant flame from a match—once extinguished, it could not reignite on its own.
So how was this possible? What had Apollo done to ensure the Light remained balanced with native Darkness? Selene had no answers.
And therein lay the problem. If she tried to restore Gray's magical core now, the internal chaos would kill him. Aura and mana couldn't form in a body ravaged by such a conflict. Any magical runes would burn up instantly. Any attempt at cellular mutation would fail.
Sigh. He's beyond healing. The thought struck her like a hammer. The Light has already fused with his body, and the Darkness hasn't left. The chaos will keep him from developing forever. He'll remain mortal—permanently. How cruel…
When Gray finally woke and looked at her with hopeful eyes, all Selene could whisper was a sorrowful, "I'm sorry." She lowered her head, unable to meet his gaze.
"Thank you for trying, Aunt Selene," the boy replied.
He rose from the bed and walked toward the door without another word. He didn't look broken or defeated. It seemed… he had already prepared himself for this outcome. When he stepped outside and saw the villagers and his family waiting, he shook his head.
"Don't lose hope, my son. I… I'll think of something," Catherine called, trying to soothe him. But even she didn't believe her own words.
Those words broke something inside him.
Gray said nothing. He just ran.
He didn't want to hear comforting lies. He didn't want to see the disappointed faces of the people he loved. It was too much. Every glance felt like a dagger in his chest. His very existence felt like a burden to them all. Like he didn't belong here—like he had no right to.
He had failed them again. He'd tried so hard to remain composed and not make them worry. But now, even that small victory had crumbled. Disappointment in himself surged as he disappeared into the woods.
"Brother!" "My love!" his mother and sister cried out, trying to follow, but Jack stopped them.
"Give him time," the one-armed assassin said calmly.
"I'll keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn't do anything foolish," Cassia added, fading into the shadows after him.
"Damn it! Why does he have to go through all this?!" Catherine shouted, slamming her fist into a nearby wall.
Soon after, Selene emerged from the hut, looking even more broken than Gray. She had done her best—but it wasn't enough. Remembering her bold promises made her want to curl up and disappear from shame.
"Come to my house," said Uncle Ma. "Catherine, calm yourself. Selene, please share your findings while they're still fresh. This is no time for despair. We must document everything so we can move forward."
In moments like these, the old man was the calmest of them all. He understood how vital it was to resist being swept away by sorrow. Sooner or later, they would need to act. The more they understood Gray's condition, the better their chances of finding a path forward.
"Albedo, Jack, Cornelia—I need you to record everything Selene tells us. You're the most experienced medics we have. Her insights could offer you a whole new perspective. And you three—hell, you're ancient monsters! Where the hell is all that wisdom and experience when we need it most?! Get to work!" he barked.
His words reignited a flicker of fire in their weary eyes. Yes, the situation was dire. Yes, the elven healing had been their brightest hope. But they weren't ready to give up just yet. They were veterans—monsters of age and time. Would one failure stop them?
Selene felt the same spark. She nodded. Soon, the group gathered in Ma's hut. Selene stood in the center, ready to present her report. Jack, Albedo, and Cornelia sat up front, quills poised, parchment unrolled. Catherine and Uncle Ma stood nearby, desperate to hear her findings.
Surprisingly, Grace was there too. She refused to be left out. Though the elders and her mother tried to keep her away, she wouldn't budge. She insisted she had every right to know her brother's condition—and threatened never to speak to anyone again if they barred her.
And so, the impromptu briefing began. Everyone listened in silence. Even Grace, normally brimming with energy, sat still and quiet.
"…The Darkness inside the boy is strange. I suspect Apollo didn't want to kill him directly, perhaps fearing unknown retaliation. So instead, he crippled him permanently—likely using an artifact or forbidden technique—leaving the rest to be 'handled' by his mortal father," Selene concluded.
"So in summary," Albedo said, "the god of Light didn't destroy the boy's core. He forcibly fused a chaotic, unstable core with Gray's body, bypassing the Mortal stage altogether. Thus, Light became a permanent part of his being, alongside Darkness—forever cutting off his path to development."
"Hm. That… could be possible," Selene admitted.
"Too cowardly to kill the child, but cruel enough to destroy his future. How noble of you, Apollo," Jack spat, his words dripping with venom.