Chapter 138: Why Are You Doing This?

Emily continued deeper into the Garden, relying on the ruined walls around her whenever her legs threatened to give out.

Blood had soaked through the side of her clothes, and every step sent a dull ache through her body. The Crimson Protector was still active, its crimson light wrapping around her like a thin layer of protection, but it had weakened considerably after everything she had endured.

The crown above her head flickered every few seconds, while the aura surrounding her body had become faint enough that Emily could no longer pretend she wasn’t close to her limit.

She knew she should stop, but stopping was no longer an option.

Somewhere ahead of her was the person she had been searching for since entering the Garden. She didn’t know what she would find when she reached him, nor whether the person she remembered still existed, but she couldn’t leave without seeing him for herself.

As Emily passed through the remains of an old stone corridor, her hand brushed against the damaged wall for support.

The Garden looked nothing like the place she remembered.

Blood covered the ground where flowers had once grown, several buildings had been reduced to piles of rubble, and the paths connecting the castle to the deeper parts of the Garden had been torn apart.

Yet, despite the destruction, something about the scenery felt familiar.

Her eyes eventually settled on a broken section of the garden wall, beyond which an old cliff stretched into the distance.

The sight made her slow down because she had seen that place before, although the memory was buried so deeply that she couldn’t immediately understand why it felt familiar.

Then the memory returned.

...

Emily remembered falling.

She had been much younger then, still an inexperienced Awakener who had been sent on a mission that quickly went wrong. Her team had abandoned her, leaving her alone as the ground disappeared beneath her feet, and she remembered screaming as she tumbled down the cliff.

For one terrifying moment, she thought she was going to die.

Faces flashed through her mind as she fell, faces that belonged to people she hadn’t known for nearly as long as she did now.

Maki, Yuna, and Lily appeared in her fading thoughts, and the fear of never seeing them again had been almost worse than the pain of falling. She remembered reaching toward them even though they weren’t really there, terrified that she would leave them behind.

Then a crimson figure appeared.

Emily never remembered seeing his face clearly. The only thing that remained sharp in her memory was the pair of crimson eyes that appeared just before she reached the ground.

Someone caught her.

Instead of slamming into the earth, Emily felt a strong arm wrap around her body while a large hand supported her back. The person held her securely against himself, stopping her fall as though catching a falling child was the most natural thing in the world.

"Are you hurt?" a voice asked.

Emily couldn’t remember the exact words after all these years, but she remembered the calmness in that voice. More importantly, she remembered how she had felt when she heard it.

Safe.

For the first time since the mission had gone wrong, Emily believed she wasn’t going to die.

...

The memory changed naturally, carrying her back to the room where she had spent the next few days recovering.

She remembered lying beneath thick blankets with bandages covering most of her body, while every breath reminded her that she had almost died. When she opened her eyes, she saw the same figure standing beside her bed, although most of him was hidden in the shadows.

His crimson eyes were the only thing she could see clearly.

Young Emily stared at him for several seconds before stubbornly trying to sit up.

"Don’t move," he told her.

She ignored him, managed to raise herself slightly, and immediately winced when pain shot through her body. The man reached down and gently pushed her back against the bed, his expression remaining calm despite her obvious stubbornness. "You almost died. Rest."

"But I can still move," Emily complained.

"You can barely sit."

She frowned at him before looking down at her injuries. After thinking about it for a moment, she looked back up. "Was it you? Were you the one who saved me?"

There was a short pause before he answered.

"Yes."

Emily studied him carefully, as though she were deciding whether that answer was enough to trust him. Eventually, a small smile spread across her face. "Then you’re my hero."

The man fell silent.

Emily waited for him to say something, but he seemed completely unprepared for the compliment. Her smile widened when she realized she had actually managed to make him uncomfortable.

"You don’t know what to say, do you?"

"I wasn’t expecting that."

Emily giggled softly before settling back against the pillow. "You’re funny."

"I’m not trying to be."

"That makes it funnier."

...

Even after all these years, Emily could still remember the strange warmth she had felt in that room. She had been injured, surrounded by strangers, and had no idea where she was, yet the person standing beside her had somehow made the unfamiliar place feel safe.

Another memory surfaced soon after.

Once Emily had recovered enough to move, she had immediately discovered a serious problem with the arrangement. She had been ordered to stay in bed, and Emily had never been particularly good at following orders when she thought they were unnecessary.

Since she still couldn’t walk properly, she solved the problem by dragging herself across the floor.

She made it out of the room, across the corridor, and eventually into the Garden before anyone stopped her. Several Bloodkin noticed the injured girl slowly pulling herself along the floor, and their reactions varied from annoyance to amusement, but Emily paid them no attention.

She was exploring.

Eventually, she heard footsteps behind her.

"Young miss, what are you doing?"

Emily turned her head and saw Camillia standing there with her arms folded.

"Walking."

Camillia looked down at Emily, then at the floor beneath her before slowly looking back at her.

"You’re dragging yourself across the floor."

Emily nodded as though this was a perfectly reasonable distinction. "I’m still walking."

Camillia stared at her for several seconds before sighing. "You are impossible."

"I’m almost there."

"You don’t even know where you’re going."

Emily smiled. "I’ll figure it out."

Camillia eventually gave up arguing and picked her up, much to Emily’s annoyance.

"I can walk."

"You are currently being carried."

"I’m almost finished."

"Finished with what?"

"Walking."

Camillia’s expression remained serious for another moment before the corner of her mouth lifted. "I see your logic."

Emily smiled proudly.

Once they returned to the room, Camillia placed her back on the bed and began healing her injuries. Warm Mana spread through Emily’s body, easing the pain while Camillia worked with an amused smile.

"You should have stayed in bed," Camillia said.

"I was bored."

"That is not a medical condition."

"It is for me."

Camillia laughed quietly, but Emily’s attention had already moved toward the doorway.

"Where is he?"

"Busy."

"Doing what?"

"Something that apparently requires several Bloodkin to suffer."

Emily blinked at her.

Before she could ask what that meant, a heavy impact echoed from outside the room. Another followed almost immediately, then another, each one loud enough to make the walls tremble slightly.

Emily turned toward the doorway with growing curiosity.

"What was that?"

Camillia sighed as though she already knew the answer.

"Your rescuer is angry."

Emily carefully moved toward the doorway and looked outside. Several Bloodkin were scattered across the ground, while the crimson-eyed man stood among them. He wasn’t using a weapon. He was simply punching them.

One Bloodkin struggled to stand, only for another punch to send him crashing back into the ground.

Emily watched in confusion. "Why is he doing that?"

Camillia glanced outside before answering with a faint smile. "Because they attacked you."

Emily looked at the Bloodkin and then back at the man. "But I’m fine."

"He doesn’t seem to agree."

Emily remained at the doorway for a moment longer before a small smile appeared on her face.

...

That memory eventually gave way to many others.

She remembered training with him and constantly finding reasons to become distracted. During one lesson, he stopped in the middle of explaining a movement when he realized Emily wasn’t paying attention.

"What are you looking at?"

Emily pointed toward his head. "Your hair."

He stared at her.

"It’s really pretty," she added innocently.

For several seconds, he said nothing before looking away. Emily noticed the reaction immediately and decided to test her discovery.

"Your eyes are pretty too."

"Focus on your training."

Emily grinned. "So they are."

"They are not."

"You didn’t say no."

He sighed and returned to the lesson while Emily smiled to herself. She had discovered that complimenting him was an easy way to make the normally composed man lose his train of thought, and she intended to abuse that discovery whenever possible.

She remembered another afternoon when she had dragged him through the Garden and complained that one particular section looked too gloomy.

"This place is ugly."

He glanced toward the flowers. "It is fine."

"No, it isn’t. A garden shouldn’t look like this."

"It’s still a garden."

"Then make it prettier."

He looked down at her for a long moment. Emily crossed her arms and waited, fully expecting him to tell her no.

Instead, he simply continued walking.

Emily assumed the conversation was over.

The following morning, however, she stepped into the Garden and stopped in surprise. The dull flowers had been replaced with brighter ones, several trees had been moved so more sunlight could reach the ground, and a narrow stone path now curved through the section exactly where Emily had complained that one should be.

She immediately ran through the Garden, looking at everything that had changed, before finding him nearby.

"You did it!"

He looked at her calmly. "You complained."

"I asked."

"You complained while asking."

Emily smiled. "You listened."

He didn’t answer.

That was enough of an answer for her.

Another memory brought her back to a piece of food she had once insisted he try.

"Just take a bite."

"I don’t need it."

"That isn’t the same as saying you don’t like it."

"I don’t need it."

Emily kept holding the food toward him until he finally accepted it. He took one bite, and the slight change in his expression immediately gave him away.

Emily stared at him before bursting into laughter.

"You hate it!"

"I don’t."

"You do."

"It’s merely unnecessary."

Emily continued laughing as she held the food toward him again. "Then take another bite."

He looked at her, then at the food, clearly realizing that refusing would only prolong the argument. After a moment, he took another bite.

Emily nearly doubled over laughing.

"You really hate it!"

He quietly set the food down.

"I am beginning to regret saving you."

Emily grinned. "You don’t mean that."

There was a brief silence before he answered.

"No."

Her smile softened.

Then there was Maria.

Emily remembered noticing the way he looked at her long before either of them admitted anything. She had watched him staring from a distance and immediately decided that she understood exactly what was happening.

"You like her."

"I don’t."

"You’re lying."

"I’m not."

"You are."

"I’m not."

Emily had smiled knowingly before stepping closer. "Do you want me to help?"

"No."

"That’s a yes."

"It isn’t."

"I’m helping anyway."

The memory faded with the faintest trace of a smile on Emily’s face.

Then she opened her eyes.

The warmth disappeared.

She was back in the ruined Garden.

For several seconds, Emily simply stood there, staring at the destruction surrounding her. Blood stained the ground where flowers had once grown, the paths had been shattered, and the distant castle looked as though it had been torn apart from within.

The place that had once held so many ordinary memories was now almost unrecognizable.

Emily lowered her gaze. "How did things turn out like this?"

The question left her lips quietly, but she knew she wasn’t asking about the Garden.

Emily stopped breathing as something was coming. A streak of blood suddenly tore through the sky and descended toward her at terrifying speed before crashing into the ground directly in front of her.

The impact shattered the stone beneath it and sent debris flying through the air. Emily raised an arm to shield herself as dust and fragments swept past her, and when the cloud finally began to settle, she saw a figure standing in the center of the crater.

Crimson eyes looked back at her.

His clothes were covered in blood, while crimson liquid moved slowly around his body as though it were alive. The pressure surrounding him was suffocating, yet his expression remained strangely calm.

Emily recognized those eyes immediately.

Her lips trembled as she stared at him. "W-Why are you doing this?"

The man didn’t answer.

Emily forced herself to step forward despite the pain running through her body. "You weren’t like this," she said, her voice becoming increasingly unsteady. "Do you think Maria and Selene will be fine with this?"

For several seconds, he remained silent.

Then his expression softened into a faint smile. "My sweet daughter..."

Emily froze as the words reached her, and for a moment, the entire Garden seemed to fall silent around them.

He looked at her with those same crimson eyes before quietly continuing, "I’m glad you remember them. I can’t seem to remember much about them."

Emily’s eyes widened. "What?"

There was no mockery in his voice, nor any attempt to deceive her. He genuinely seemed unable to understand why those words had affected her so deeply.

Instead, he simply looked at her and asked, "Why did you come, Emily?"

Emily’s hands trembled as she forced herself to keep standing. "I want you to stop... This isn’t you."

The man looked at her quietly before a faint smile returned to his face. "Isn’t it?"

Emily shook her head as she tried to find the words. "You aren’t the one to—"

"To be a monster?" His voice remained strangely calm. "Silly girl, I was always a monster."

Emily’s expression tightened.

He continued speaking as though he were explaining something obvious rather than defending himself. "I was a Bloodkin. I always had the instinct to kill, the instinct to feed, and the desire to dominate those weaker than me. That was what I was long before you ever found me."

His crimson eyes lowered slightly as he looked toward the blood covering the Garden. "I simply became foolish enough to believe I could become something else."

Emily stared at him. "Why?"

He looked back at her. "Because I had a daughter." Emily’s breath caught. "For a while, I believed having someone to love gave me a reason to become better. I thought I could become something other than what I was because there was someone waiting for me."

His voice remained calm, but there was something strangely empty behind it.

"But perhaps I was only fooling myself."

Emily shook her head. "No."

He continued as though he hadn’t heard her. "When the memories that gave that change meaning disappeared, so did the reason to continue pretending."

"No."

"I remembered what I was."

Emily’s eyes filled with tears as she looked at the person standing before her. "You weren’t pretending."

He remained silent.

Emily clenched her trembling hands and forced herself to keep looking at him.

"You saved me."

There was no response.

"You took care of me."

Still nothing.

"You taught me."

Her voice cracked as the memories flooded through her again, bringing back the cliff, the room, the Garden, the training, the food, the laughter, and the quiet moments she had once taken for granted.

"You listened to me. You changed the Garden because I asked you to. You even ate food you hated because I kept forcing you to try it."

Tears finally slipped down Emily’s cheeks as she stepped forward despite the pain tearing through her body, refusing to retreat even as her hands trembled around her weapon. "Liar."

He looked at her.

Emily wiped the tears from her face and raised her head. "You are not a monster." Her voice trembled, but she refused to let it break. "You’re my father."