Inside the small wooden house—
spiritual energy flowed quietly through the room.
Lian sat cross-legged atop the bed, both hands resting gently on his knees as faint streams of Qi circulated steadily through his meridians according to the Water Vein Compression Art.
The Water Essence Pearl hidden beneath his coat continuously released soft waves of cold spiritual energy into his body, reinforcing his circulation.
Outside—
the distant sound of water splashing echoed faintly from nearby homes, where villagers washed clothes beneath the afternoon sun.
His mother was still outside.
The room itself remained calm.
Silent.
Then—
without warning—
a small white figure passed through the window like drifting mist.
Soundless.
The white lizard moved through the air as if weightless, becoming fully visible only once it reached the center of the room.
Moon-pale scales shimmered faintly beneath the sunlight filtering through the window.
Lizarius glanced toward the boy.
Then drifted forward casually.
A moment later—
he landed directly atop Lian's head.
Softly.
Almost lazily.
Lian's circulating spiritual energy immediately faltered.
His eyes opened.
Then softened slightly in relief.
A faint smile appeared on his face as he tilted his gaze upward.
"…Master Lizarius."
The white lizard looked down at him.
"I am not your master."
His tone remained as flat as ever.
"I assumed you only said that previously because of your mother."
Lian laughed awkwardly.
"…Yeah."
"That was part of it."
He rubbed the back of his neck lightly.
"But…"
His voice turned more casual.
"I feel like calling you master shows more respect."
Lizarius stared at him silently for a moment.
Inside—
his thoughts remained calm.
*An excuse.*
The child was attempting to form attachment.
Dependence.
Humans did that instinctively toward anything stronger than themselves—
especially after fear began to turn into familiarity.
Outwardly, however—
Lizarius merely spoke evenly.
"So."
"…You killed the humans."
Lian froze instantly.
The smile vanished from his face.
His eyes widened slightly before narrowing again.
Slowly—
he looked up at the lizard.
"…You knew?"
A pause.
"…Were you watching the entire time?"
His thoughts raced immediately afterward.
*Then he saw everything.*
*He knew someone witnessed it.*
*So why…*
Lian's jaw tightened slightly.
"…Why didn't you do anything?"
"…Or at least tell me someone was watching?"
Lizarius answered immediately.
"No."
"I was not watching."
The white lizard's tail shifted lazily once.
"But I was aware of one human observing."
Lian stared at him.
Lizarius continued calmly,
"As for why I did not interfere…"
A faint pause followed.
"…Why would I?"
The words landed heavily.
"There is no reason I should."
Silence settled briefly across the room.
Lian remained still.
Lizarius continued evenly,
"I am here of my own will."
His pale eyes reflected faintly beneath the sunlight.
"I do not care what happens to others."
"Everything I do…"
"…is for my own curiosity."
A pause.
"And if something benefits you…"
"…or if you choose to take advantage of it…"
"…then so be it."
Silence.
The room felt noticeably quieter afterward.
Lian stared at him for several long seconds.
Then—
unexpectedly—
he smiled faintly.
Not bitter.
Not angry.
Just thoughtful.
"…I guess I got carried away."
Lizarius remained silent.
Lian leaned back slightly against the wall.
"I don't really know what you're curious about when it comes to me…"
He let out a soft exhale.
"But like you said…"
His eyes lifted toward the white lizard again.
"…if it benefits me too, then I'll take full advantage of it."
The room fell quiet again.
But this time—
something subtle had shifted.
Not hostility.
Not fear.
Understanding.
Because until now—
even if he had never admitted it openly—
Lian had unconsciously begun relying on Lizarius.
The protection.
The guidance.
The overwhelming power.
Some part of him had slowly started viewing the white lizard as something stable.
Something dependable.
But now—
that illusion cracked slightly.
Lizarius was not helping him out of kindness.
Not protecting him.
Not raising him.
Everything he did—
he did because he personally found it worthwhile.
Nothing more.
And strangely—
that honesty made everything clearer.
Lian lowered his gaze quietly.
Inside his mind—
the realization settled heavily.
*He isn't here to help me.*
*Maybe not deliberately…*
*but if his actions happen to benefit me…*
His fingers tightened slightly atop his knees.
*Then I won't hesitate to take that benefit.*
A faint smile returned to his face.
Smaller now.
Sharper.
Across from him—
Lizarius observed him quietly.
And for the briefest moment—
the white lizard's pale eyes narrowed with interest.
Because the boy's reaction…
was not what most humans would display.
Lizarius remained perched atop Lian's head in silence.
Outwardly—
his expression did not change.
But inwardly—
his thoughts shifted carefully.
*So it truly is as I suspected.*
When the humans had cornered the child that night—
Lizarius had felt nothing.
That strange pressure from before had not appeared at all within his instincts.
No warning.
No suffocating sense of danger tied to interfering.
And that difference mattered.
Because during the confrontation near the forest—
he had never once felt true restriction.
No pressure.
No indication that intervening or remaining absent would bring consequences.
Which led to one conclusion.
Perhaps the restriction surrounding Lian was far narrower than he had originally assumed.
Very narrow.
Specific.
The white lizard's eyes narrowed faintly.
*If I wished to kill the child…*
*perhaps all I would need…*
*…is to simply not be present when it happens.*
Or perhaps—
the restriction did not activate because those humans were never truly capable of threatening the child.
At least—
not in a way his instincts recognized as danger.
That possibility remained uncertain.
Perhaps the instinct had never reacted because those humans genuinely posed no real threat to Lian at all.
Weak.
Slow.
Fragile.
To Lizarius—
the outcome had been obvious from the beginning.
The child was always going to survive.
Which meant the instinct had never considered intervention necessary.
*Interesting.*
Very interesting.
He would need to investigate further.
Then—
Lian's voice broke his thoughts.
"…Master Lizarius."
The white lizard glanced downward slightly.
"If you weren't watching…"
Lian frowned faintly.
"…then how did you know?"
A pause.
"…Did you just guess?"
Silence lingered briefly.
Then Lizarius answered calmly,
"No."
Lian blinked.
The white lizard's tail shifted once behind him.
"I could see the dark energy around you."
Lian stared.
"…Dark energy?"
He repeated the words slowly.
Then his eyes widened slightly.
"…Wait."
"Is it the same thing you saw around my mother before?"
A brief silence followed.
Then Lizarius answered evenly,
"No."
"The one surrounding your mother was weakness."
"Sickness."
"Decay caused by the slow collapse of mortal vitality."
His eyes reflected faintly beneath the sunlight.
"What surrounds you now is different."
Lian's expression slowly tightened.
"…Different how?"
Lizarius spoke calmly.
"When a living being is killed—especially a human…"
"…their spiritual presence changes."
Lian went completely still.
The white lizard continued evenly,
"Fear."
"Hatred."
"Regret."
"Killing intent."
"Blood."
"All of it leaves traces behind."
A faint pause.
"Ordinary humans cannot perceive such things."
"But stronger beings…"
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"…can."
Lian unconsciously lowered his gaze.
Then slowly looked down at his own hands.
Even though no blood remained—
for a moment—
it felt as if something still clung there.
Lizarius continued calmly,
"The dark energy around you is still thin."
"Unstable."
"New."
A pause.
"But it exists."
Lian remained silent.
His fingers tightened slightly atop his knees.
"…So I have this dark energy."
The words came out softer than he intended.