Sebas Cortez's Perspective
It was around 11 o'clock at night, and fortunately, the worst was behind us. Mylene had survived the premature birth, a twist none of us had expected. At that moment, I was walking toward Alexio's room with Doctor Katia by my side. She had decided to stay at the mansion for the next few days to monitor Mylene's recovery. Although things seemed under control, she wanted to keep a close watch on her patient—just in case.
Apparently, Mylene had suffered severe internal bleeding, with multiple hemorrhages scattered throughout her body, making it nearly impossible to pinpoint the source in time. Katia later admitted that if it hadn't been for Alexio, Mylene wouldn't have lasted long enough for us to arrive, much less survive the delivery. That boy held her life together with his magic—for three hours. Two hours on his own as the servants scrambled, and another hour during the final delivery led by Katia.
It was unbelievable. A child of barely three years old wielding healing magic with that much precision and stamina? How deep were his mana reserves? And more terrifying than the magic itself was his resolve—his unwavering initiative and clarity in the face of chaos.
When I entered that room, the sight alone nearly brought me to my knees. Blood was everywhere, and Mylene looked as if she were slipping away before our eyes. The servants were in a frenzy, sobbing and shouting helplessly. In that storm of panic, Alexio alone stood firm, his tiny hands pressed against Mylene's skin, pouring his magic into her without a shred of hesitation. Not once did he falter—not once did he allow fear to disrupt his concentration.
Even when Katia warned him that he was putting his life at risk, Alexio didn't say a word. He didn't argue, didn't question—he knew the risks and had already made his decision. The moment Clarisse was born, he finally allowed himself to take a single breath. And even then, we all thought it was too late for Mylene.
As Mylene lay pale and weak, holding her newborn daughter, she whispered to Alexio, her voice fading with every word. The servants around us wept openly, convinced that death had already come for her. I cursed the heavens—how could they allow someone so good, so gentle, to suffer such a fate? Why take someone so pure from this world?
But Alexio never stopped. Even on the brink of collapse, even as his own life hung in the balance, he kept his magic flowing. At first, I thought he was merely trying to stop the bleeding, but then I realized the truth—and it made me feel like a fool. He wasn't just trying to save Mylene's life. He was giving her something even more precious: time.
Just a few more moments for Mylene to hold her daughter, to speak to her child. Even if only for a fleeting second longer.
Damn this world. Damn the heavens. Why do they always take so much from those who deserve it the most?
Everyone else had given up. Even I—who had raised Mylene as if she were my own daughter—had resigned myself to her death. And yet, that boy refused to surrender. Where I had faltered without putting anything on the line, Alexio, at just three years old, risked everything to defy fate.
A brilliant, blinding light filled the room as his magic surged to its peak, and in that moment, it was not a miracle that saved Mylene. It was Alexio. He stared death in the face—and won.
Only when Mylene placed her hand over his did the boy finally relent, stopping just short of burning through every last drop of his life force. He was willing to go that far. If she hadn't stopped him, he would have given his last breath to save hers. That was his determination.
And what about me? What had I become? I—a man with decades of experience, a former warrior—couldn't even muster the courage to do what this child had done. What am I, if not a failure? A coward who couldn't do even a fraction of what Alexio did in that room.
Now, we stood together in Alexio's room. The boy, already awake, leaned on the balcony, gazing up at the moon with an expression so serene it almost seemed sacred. Doctor Katia hesitated for a moment, visibly gathering her composure before speaking.
"Awake already? I was certain you'd be down for days."
"I've never been much of a sleeper," Alexio replied without turning around. "I usually have too many nightmares."
Katia offered a sympathetic smile. "I see… If you need, I can prescribe something to help."
"No need," Alexio said, his voice calm and distant. "It doesn't bother me much."
There was something different about him now. It wasn't just his words. His tone carried a weight far beyond his years. I had noticed it before—that strange sense that Alexio's mannerisms were deliberately childlike, as if he were imitating what adults expected of him. It had always made me uneasy, as though there was an adult soul trapped inside his tiny body.
But tonight, he wasn't pretending. His gaze… his posture... It was like standing before a monarch—one whose scarlet eyes bore down on us with the unspoken authority of a king. Even Katia, who had been speaking casually moments before, now looked visibly tense, beads of sweat forming on her brow under his unwavering stare.
"That spell you used, Alexio... It was dangerous," Katia said, her voice more cautious now.
"What do you mean?"
"Magic isn't free," she explained. "Everything comes at a price. Most spells are paid for with mana, which replenishes with time and rest. But for something like what you did… the cost is often much higher."
Alexio gave a slight nod, seemingly unfazed. "I figured it would be something like that."
"You don't seem worried."
"I'm not."
Katia narrowed her eyes slightly. "Did you know how to cast a spell like that before?"
"No," Alexio admitted. "I only know the basics. But in that moment, it didn't matter. I was ready to offer whatever it took to save her. That's probably why it worked."
There was no bravado in his words, no trace of arrogance. It was a simple statement of fact—a glimpse into the terrifying clarity that drove him.
"It's impressive that you managed to cast something so complex without knowing it," Katia continued. "But I need to warn you—magic like that doesn't come without cost. You've likely sacrificed several years of your life."
"What?!"
For the first time, I couldn't hold back, interrupting their conversation. A knot twisted in my gut at her words.
"How much?" I demanded, my voice tight as I locked eyes with Katia.
She hesitated, exhaling as if the weight of the answer pained her. "From what I've seen before... I would estimate one or two decades."
Twenty years. This boy—this child—had traded twenty years of his future to save his mother. How merciless could this world be, to demand such a price from someone so young?
"I understand."
Alexio accepted it without hesitation, as if the number meant nothing. No anger. No fear. Just calm acceptance, as if he had already made peace with it. Katia, too, looked taken aback, her usual professional demeanor faltering.
"You're not... upset?"
Alexio's scarlet gaze met hers—steady and unflinching. "Compared to what I offered, it's a small price to pay."
Katia tilted her head slightly. "What exactly did you offer?"
His answer chilled me to the core. Those crimson eyes—innocent, yet ancient—pierced through us. And from the mouth of a three-year-old child came words I would never forget.
"I only offered what was necessary—everything I had and would ever have."
Katia's face went pale, her lips parting as if to respond, but no sound came. The weight of his statement settled over us like a suffocating fog. There was no doubt—he had meant every word. He wasn't just talking about his lifespan. He was ready to sacrifice everything: his future, his memories, perhaps even his soul.
"Young master..." I whispered, my throat tightening. I couldn't withhold the truth from him any longer.
"Yes, Sebas?"
"Mylene considers you her son and loves you with all her heart. But... she's not your biological mother. The same goes for Rubens."
Katia flinched at the revelation, though she stayed silent. It was a guarded secret, even within the Serene family. But Alexio, to my shock, didn't react with anger or confusion. His expression remained unreadable.
"Yes," he said calmly, "I already knew."
My breath caught. "You knew?"
He gave a slight nod. "Rubens never treated me like a son, and I don't resemble Mylene. It also became obvious during her pregnancy—this was her first child."
Of course, he knew. It was plain to him, as it should have been to everyone. Rubens' coldness toward him, Mylene's nervous excitement over the baby... how could this child miss it? But even so—
"Then why? Why sacrifice so much for her?"
Alexio's answer was simple, but it pierced me to my core.
"Because she loved me like a mother would."
The truth settled over me like a stone in my chest. Of course. Why did I even ask such a foolish question?
"I'm sorry for the stupid question, young master."
"Don't worry, Sebas," Alexio replied with a soft but knowing smile.
Then, before I even realized it, the words escaped my mouth.
"Young master... what is your dream?"
"Hmm?" Alexio turned slightly, as if the question caught him off guard.
I wasn't sure why I asked. Perhaps I needed to know—to understand the kind of man this child would become. Over the years, I'd seen good men who had nothing, and wicked men with everything. There were those with power who destroyed without remorse, and those who wanted to do good but lacked the strength to make a difference.
But Alexio—what would he seek? What would a boy like him, with brilliance far beyond his years, aim for in this cursed world?
Alexio turned back toward the moon, his gaze thoughtful as silver light bathed his small frame. Then, without hesitation, he spoke.
"The happiness of everyone around me."
That was his dream. A boy who had every reason to turn bitter—who defied the world itself to protect the people he loved—wanted nothing more than happiness for others. That was Alexio Serene.
And it wasn't just idle words. His actions had already proved that. He'd sacrificed his childhood, his peace, and even his future for Mylene. Where was I when I was three? Probably playing, lost in childish thoughts. But Alexio... he was saving lives.
I couldn't help myself. I dropped to my knees before him. Even kneeling, I towered over the boy, but it didn't matter. His spirit was far greater than mine could ever be.
Katia and Alexio both looked at me in confusion, but I ignored their stares. I had made my decision.
"Alexio Serene," I whispered, bowing my head low. "Please accept me as your sword, and use me to achieve your dreams."
There was a heavy silence. And then, in that same quiet, deliberate voice, Alexio answered.
"I accept, Sebas."
With those words, my loyalty was sealed.
As Katia and I made our way through the mansion's halls, she gave me a skeptical glance.
"Offering yourself to a three-year-old? Don't you think that's a bit... irresponsible?"
I chuckled softly. "I've seen enough in his three years to know exactly what kind of man he'll become."
Katia dabbed her forehead with a handkerchief, visibly shaken. "He was terrifying today."
"That's the real Alexio. Tomorrow, he might act like a child again. But this... this is who he truly is."
She sighed. "Peculiar child."
I smirked. "You used to call him a little demon."
"I did," Katia admitted, shaking her head. "The way he talked—quoting medical texts and understanding every technical term. It was... unnatural."
"And now?"
Katia hesitated before answering, her gaze distant.
"He still scares me... but he's no demon. No demon would cry like that—like he did, just for saving his mother."
I gave a small nod, smiling to myself as we continued down the hallway, both of us lost in thought.
This child—this boy who cried for the love he saved—is far more human than most of us ever were.