Aya knocked softly against the wooden door.
There was a pause before a voice, quiet yet unmistakable, murmured from within.
"Come… in…"
The sound was so faint it shouldn't have reached her ears, yet she heard it clearly. A subtle peculiarity, but she chose not to dwell on it. Instead, she balanced the tray in her hands and stepped inside.
The room was dimly lit, the scent of aged wood mingling with the fresh aroma of tea. Honu sat on the edge of the bed, his posture slightly slouched, his long hair falling over his shoulders like a silk curtain. His eyes, half-lidded with exhaustion, sharpened the moment they landed on her.
In an instant, he straightened, his movements fluid yet deliberate. He rose to his feet, his expression unreadable, and lowered himself into a bow.
Aya arched a brow.
"There's no need for formalities," she said, setting the tray on a small wooden table. "I prefer familiarity."
Honu hesitated for a fraction of a second before inclining his head and lowering himself onto the chair opposite hers.
"I figured you must be hungry," she added, pouring tea into a ceramic cup.
His gaze flickered to the food, and something unreadable passed through his features. "I apologize for the trouble," he said, his voice deep yet strangely soothing. "My arrival was… less than appropriate."
Now that he was properly dressed, his presence carried an entirely different weight. His once-disheveled state had been replaced with neatly arranged robes, the fabric flowing elegantly over his frame. His long hair, no longer tangled, gleamed under the dim light. There was an undeniable grace to him now, a quiet refinement that made him look less like a wanderer and more like a noble.
Aya studied him for a moment before speaking plainly.
"I was informed that you are Sloth." She met his gaze directly. "What are your intentions toward my husband?"
Honu didn't react immediately. He reached for the teacup, his fingers brushing against the warm porcelain as he held it in contemplation.
"He was the only one among us… who had a family."
Aya frowned slightly. "And what does that have to do with anything?"
"I, too, have a family," he said, his voice quiet but firm.
A small, thoughtful smile touched Aya's lips. "That's good to hear."
Honu exhaled slowly, his fingers tracing the rim of the cup.
"There were twenty-six of us," he murmured. "I was the eldest."
Aya blinked, caught off guard.
Honu let out a soft chuckle, sensing her surprise. "We weren't related by blood. We were orphans, abandoned in the western regions."
Aya's expression sobered.
"We lived with monks for a time," he continued. "Not the ones you know. Our refuge was on the borders—near the north-southern regions. Before the gods abandoned us, war had already begun. The Kingdom of Athanasios was relentless in its pursuit of conquest."
Aya knew that war. She remembered the chaos, the way the slums had become a graveyard of lost souls. She and Nine had chosen to remain behind their walls, knowing that stepping into the turmoil meant being swallowed whole.
"We were captured and sold as slaves." Honu's voice remained steady, but there was a cold edge beneath the surface. "Even without training, I was already strong. I fought, I endured. And when the opportunity came, I escaped—with my siblings. We carved a home for ourselves in the wilderness, hiding in a cave like hunted animals."
His grip on the teacup tightened, knuckles turning white.
"But survival," he murmured, "is never guaranteed."
A shadow passed over his eyes.
"To put it simply—humans and demons alike defiled and devoured my siblings."
Aya's breath hitched.
"I fought back," Honu continued, his voice eerily calm. "Nearly lost an arm for it. In the end, I was captured again—this time, sold to a brothel."
A bitter smile curled at his lips. "Some old men enjoy young boys."
Aya felt her stomach twist violently. Instinctively, she lifted a hand to cover her mouth, her chest tightening with a mix of horror and sorrow.
"I struggled," he admitted. "I clawed and bit. But in the end, there's only so much you can do when you're bound and tossed into a place meant to break you."
His voice was quieter now, tinged with something she couldn't quite name.
"But then—when I thought it was over, when I thought I'd lose everything—a boy helped me." His fingers trembled slightly against the porcelain cup. "A slave. Younger than me."
Aya's breath was shallow.
"He cut the ropes," Honu said. "Told me to run."
She saw it now—the way his shoulders tensed ever so slightly, the way his gaze lingered on nothing in particular, trapped in a memory he couldn't escape.
"He stayed behind," Honu continued. "Created a distraction so I could get away."
His hands clenched into fists.
"I promised I'd come back for him." His voice was tight. "That I'd find help. But I was nothing. No one. Just another forgotten soul in a world that had no mercy."
A long silence stretched between them.
"When I finally returned," he said, "it was too late."
Aya closed her eyes briefly, unable to meet his gaze.
"He took his own life," Honu murmured. "The others—the ones who had been taken with us—remained. None of them were saved. Not a single one of them escaped their fate."
His jaw tightened. The weight of his anger, his grief, his unyielding resentment—it was all there, simmering beneath his carefully composed facade.
"I started searching for my remaining siblings," he said finally. "I found a few of them. And not one—not one—had gained a fortunate life."
He laughed, the sound hollow. "The gods truly abandoned us."
Another silence. Then, he sighed, as if shaking off the weight of the past.
"In the end, I had nothing. No wealth. No status. No power. I succumbed to despair—but even then, I couldn't die."
His gaze lifted to hers. "So I wandered. And in the Thousand Valleys, I was granted the essence of Sloth."
For the first time, there was something like peace in his expression.
"Then I heard the new lord was chosen." He gestured toward the window. "Lust."
Aya listened intently, sensing the shift in his tone.
"I observed him," Honu said. "He's a man of… lesser evil. But he has a vision. A possibility for change. And I wanted to be a part of it."
Aya narrowed her eyes slightly. "What made you think that?"
Honu smiled faintly. "Look outside."
She followed his gaze.
"He built a haven for criminals and illicit businesses, yet no one here was forced into servitude. Their loyalty is genuine. Despite his temper, he is not reckless. Under his command, the southern region's crime has decreased."
Aya turned back to him, her expression thoughtful.
"Lust is considered the weakest of the sins," Honu continued, "yet as an essence holder, he is proving to be revolutionary."
Their gazes locked.
"What exactly do you hope to change?" Aya asked softly.
"The same thing you're thinking of," Honu replied.
Aya stiffened slightly. "...You can read minds?"
"Only when a person is focused," he admitted.
She clapped her hands lightly. "Impressive."
Honu chuckled. "His plan aligns with mine."
Aya tilted her head. "So… can you read his mind?"
A rare sheepish look crossed his face. "...No." He sighed. "Whenever I try, all I hear are profanities."
Before she could respond, a voice cut in smoothly.
"Are you done?"
Both Honu and Aya jolted.
Nine was hanging upside down from the window, arms crossed, eyes glinting in the dim light.
Aya blinked. "How long have you been there?"
Nine smirked. "Just now."
"You liar." Aya looked at him dead in the eyes.