Even Death Grew Tired of Killing Me-Chapter 47 - 42

I did not return to Aetherfall right away.

I thought I would. I had planned to. In my head it was supposed to be simple. Handle whatever the Realm Union dragged me back for, pack up, step through the gate again, and get back to the mess waiting for me on the other side. That was the expectation.

Reality had other ideas.

Kyren complicated everything.

The moment the paperwork shifted from "temporary ward" to "legal guardian," the process slowed to a crawl. Every agency suddenly wanted a say. Every department had forms. Additional interviews, confirmations, signatures. The fact that I intended to bring Kyren into Aetherfall made it worse. Minors crossing was not unheard of, but it was uncommon, and uncommon always meant scrutiny.

Kyren had to be registered. Pre-approved. Flagged as an initiate candidate. Evaluated for psychological stability, compatibility, for risk. Evaluated for things no one bothered explaining to me in detail, but all of them took time.

Days passed and I wonder how long I’ve been missing in Aetherfall. But this things take time, and I could not do anything about it.

In that time, I learned something unexpected about my new found family.

Kyren was not a burden.

When I left the apartment to deal with offices, he stayed put without complaint. No mess. No noise. No broken furniture. No surprise emergencies. He cooked simple meals for himself, cleaned up after, and entertained himself quietly. If anything, he was more self-sufficient than most adults I knew.

I suspected the orphanage had something to do with that, but I did not ask.

I did not ask about our parents either.

Not yet.

There was a timing to these things, and I had learned the hard way that forcing answers early only made things worse later. I did know that Kyren had finished middle school ahead of schedule. Accelerated programs. Advanced placement. Teachers who gave up trying to keep him engaged. He told me, very bluntly, that continuing bored him to death.

I believed him.

When I came back to the apartment that evening, tired in a way sleep never really fixed anymore, the door slid shut behind me with a soft click.

Kyren was sitting on the floor, legs crossed, a handheld gaming device balanced in his hands. The screen reflected faint blue light onto his face. He looked up the moment I stepped inside and grinned at me like he had been waiting.

"Welcome back, big brother."

"Just call me Theo, it’s easier." I said tiredly, as I was about to lock the door.

Then I stopped, because I could see his Status Window.

It hovered there, semi-transparent, clear as my own system panel when I summoned it. Stats. Attributes. The whole thing. Wide open. No effort. No strain.

My irritation flared immediately.

"Are you serious right now?" I asked, sharper than I intended. "Do you have any idea how reckless it is to have your system window open in public?"

Kyren blinked, then stared at me like I had just asked whether water was wet.

"Do I look stupid to you?" he replied, half laughing, half offended.

I shut the door harder than necessary and pointed at the air in front of him. "Then explain why I can see your Status Window."

Kyren glanced up at it, then back at me, still grinning. His stats had shifted since the last time I saw them.

Strength: 51

Vitality: 79

Agility: 49

Dexterity: 59

Intelligence: 34

Luck: 75

Every physical attribute had climbed by three.

My jaw tightened. "You’re not even trying to hide it."

"Of course you can see it," Kyren replied casually. "We’re officially brothers now. The Ultima System logged it after all that processing you went through, probably it finalized just today."

I stared at him. "That makes zero sense. What does that have to do with system visibility?"

Kyren snorted. "For someone with high intelligence, you can be kind of dense sometimes."

That did it.

"Just tell me," I said, exasperated. "Are you saying legal siblings can see each other’s status windows? Because I’ve never heard of that."

Kyren laughed outright. "No. Absolutely not. Status data is private, even for family. What are you even thinking?"

"Then why," I said slowly, almost gritting my teeth, and keeping my voice controlled, "can I see yours?"

Kyren set the gaming device aside, leaned forward slightly, and fully faced me. He stayed seated on the floor, legs still crossed, posture relaxed in a way that made my skin itch.

"You’re seeing it because I’m sharing my Observer skill with you," he explained. "That part becomes available once the system recognizes us as legal siblings. At least, that’s how it works as far as I know."

I just stared at him.

I did not doubt him. That was the worst part.

I simply had not known this was possible. And that realization bothered me more than I wanted to admit.

"I really need to start learning this stuff," I muttered.

Kyren shrugged and picked his device back up. "Yeah. Probably."

I took a breath, then narrowed my eyes at him. "You said you can’t gain attribute points from killing prime souls. You’re not even a Crosser yet. So explain this."

I pointed at the numbers. "How did your stats increase?"

Kyren’s grin widened. "Yeah, I figured you’d catch that."

My stomach tightened. "Kyren."

"Relax," he replied easily. "It’s not from killing. That rule only applies to Crossers who’ve integrated with Aetherfall’s system anyway."

"Then what?" I pressed. "Do you know something I don’t?"

Kyren tilted his head, eyes bright. "Probably."

I waited.

"As siblings," he continued, "we did an equivalent exchange. You got something from me, so I get something from you. Fair trade."

I frowned. "What did I give you?"

He chuckled. "You really think I’d want your negative infinite luck? No thanks. I’m not suicidal."

"Then what?"

"Points," Kyren replied simply. "Whenever your stats increase, I get half of that gain. Not mirrored, not copied. Just a partial transfer. It only works one way. You already got my Observer skill, so you can’t take my points if mine go up."

I felt my breath hitch. "I’ve never heard of anything like that."

Kyren gave me a flat look. "You haven’t heard of a lot of things. You only ever cared about what felt immediately relevant to your tiny bubble. There are Realm Workers here who do this with siblings, partners, bonded units. It’s rare, but not unknown."

I did not respond.

Because again, he was right.

"You can turn the Observer share off whenever you want," Kyren added, already refocusing on his game. "Just will it."

I tried it.

I thought about the window disappearing, about the connection closing, and the Status panel vanished instantly.

I looked back at him.

He did not even glance up.

For a moment, I considered getting angry. Considered telling him he had no right to make that kind of decision without asking me first. Considered laying out a dozen reasons why this was reckless.

But the anger never fully formed.

Because the truth was, I was not losing anything.

If anything, I had gained something absurdly rare. Direct observer access without exposure. A private assessor. A buffer between my system and everyone else’s prying eyes. And Kyren had gained strength, even though he hardly needed it.

In Aetherfall, attributes and skills mattered more than good intentions ever would.

I exhaled slowly.

Kyren glanced up at me again, smiling like he already knew what I was thinking.

And that bothered me almost as much as everything else combined.

In the end, the only thing I could say was, "We’ll go to the doctor tomorrow for your final physical evaluation. After that, we can proceed with your initiate crossing."

"I hear you," Kyren said, then went back to focusing on whatever game he was playing.

~~~

[Third POV — Prince Valeyn]

It had been almost three weeks since Archivist Theo Finley last set foot in the palace.

Prince Valeyn knew this because he had been counting.

On that day, Caedryn’s assistant had personally informed him that the meeting he had requested with the archivist could not proceed. Archivist Finley had been summoned by the Realm Union through an emergency notification. It was not something Valeyn could protest, even if he wanted to. Realm Union authority superseded every mortal institution in Aetherfall, kingdoms included, when it comes to Wayfarers. Their summons were absolute, their priorities unquestionable.

At least, that was how the world still functioned on the surface.

Aetherfall was vast beyond what most mortals truly understood. Each of the Twelve Kingdoms alone were large enough to rival entire continents from other realms Valeyn had studied. Each kingdom held dozens of principalities and duchies, layered beneath ancient laws, hidden zones, and sealed territories that only High Exalted combat functions or higher were permitted to enter. And even then, permission did not mean safety.

Centuries passed in Aetherfall with very little truly new information about the dark mist beyond. Knowledge accumulated slowly, distorted by politics, lost in silence, or buried deliberately beneath old mist and older lies.

That was why Valeyn was uneasy.

He had quietly gathered what information he could about that day. What he learned only made the knot in his chest tighten.

Archivist Finley’s assistant had also been summoned to the palace. She had been directed to Caedryn’s office. After that, the trail went cold. None of Valeyn’s informants could confirm when the young girl left the room. No one had seen her exit the palace. No one had recorded her departure through any official gate.

Worse still, when Valeyn discreetly asked someone to check her residence, the manager reported that she had not returned, not even before Archivist Finley himself vanished back to his home world.

Caedryn’s behavior since then had only deepened the unease.

The prefect had become barely visible. He no longer appeared in the castle grounds, no longer attended routine proceedings, no longer lingered where eyes could track him. When summoned for important matters, Caedryn was always there and always on time. But aside from that, he was hard to come by.

And yet, no one had seen him leave Solcarth either. It was as if he had folded himself into the palace walls, present but unreachable if unnecessary.

Something was wrong.

Valeyn felt it in his bones.

It was not fear exactly. It was the kind of instinct that came from surviving too many political near-deaths, from growing up inside a palace where silence often preceded catastrophe.

He needed to act, carefully.

Whatever rivalries existed between the heirs, whatever bloodless wars they waged for the throne, none of them wanted the Solcarth Dominion to fall into the hands of someone outside their lineage. None of them wanted their family’s rule ended, nor the monarchy itself dismantled by forces they could not control.

Caedryn was not royal blood.

That mattered.

Valeyn decided to speak with his older brother.

He found Aurelion in one of the inner chambers, reclining far too comfortably with one of the ladies-in-waiting who technically belonged to their sister’s household. Aurelion looked bored, irritated, and faintly amused all at once when he noticed Valeyn at the door.

"What do you need?" Aurelion muttered, barely sitting up.

Valeyn did not waste time.

"It’s about the young madam," he replied calmly.

The change was immediate.

Aurelion’s expression hardened. His jaw clenched, and the color drained from his face so quickly it was almost unsettling. He waved the lady away with a sharp gesture.

"Leave us," he ordered.

The woman smiled, composed and obedient, curtsied lightly, and excused herself without asking questions. The door closed behind her with a soft click that felt far too loud in the sudden silence.

Aurelion turned back to Valeyn, voice lowered. "What about her?"

Valeyn exhaled slowly. "Caedryn is doing something. Something he doesn’t want anyone to see."

Aurelion scoffed. "That describes him every day of his miserable life."

"This is different," Valeyn replied. "I believe he’s holding the archivist’s assistant."

Aurelion frowned. "I don’t care about the archivist or the relics he helped with, only Lysandra is interested with that. What does that have to do with her?"

Valeyn explained.

He spoke of the assassination attempt, carefully avoiding unnecessary detail. He spoke of how the order had been retracted the moment the archivist’s connection to the young madam became apparent. He spoke of the assistant’s disappearance, of Caedryn’s sudden withdrawal from public view, of the timing being far too precise to dismiss as coincidence.

As Valeyn spoke, Aurelion’s irritation faded. In its place came something darker.

When Valeyn finished, Aurelion went silent. Then he cursed under his breath, sharp and ugly. Despite Aurelion’s flirtatious reputation, Valeyn knew he was highly intelligent and quick to grasp what was happening.

"Damn it," Aurelion muttered. "If Caedryn is moving without clearance..."

He paced once, then stopped. "We need more information. I want everything. Where she went, how she was taken, what Caedryn thinks he’s doing. If the madam asks, I want answers ready before she finishes the question."

Valeyn nodded. "I’ll keep my people watching."

"I’ll have mine look into it as well," Aurelion replied. Then he paused, eyes narrowing. "Do not tell Lysandra."

Valeyn raised a brow. "You’re sure?"

"She’s obsessed with divinity and relics," Aurelion snapped. "If she gets involved, she’ll stumble straight into Caedryn’s mess, and if that leads her anywhere near the madam, we’ll all regret it."

Valeyn agreed silently.

As he left his brother’s chambers, the weight in his chest did not ease.

If Caedryn truly believed he could move a piece connected to the young madam without consequence, then he was either a fool... or desperate enough to gamble the kingdom itself.

And either way, Solcarth was standing on a blade’s edge.