Chapter315 – It’s a promise
“From now on, you’ll protect her with your life. If she dies, you don’t get to live alone.”
Under Callum’s gaze, Atticus didn’t hesitate for even a second.
He swallowed the Gu.
“You—!”
Atticus dropped to his knees, a stunned yet satisfied smile spreading across his face.
“Thank you, Grandpa… for granting my wish.”
Callum stood there in silence for a long moment—then cursed furiously.
“Who the hell are you calling Grandpa?!”
.....
“Atticus, you’re back?”
He pulled her into his arms. “Weren’t you worried about me?”
Clarissa smiled softly. “I know Grandpa’s temper. And I believe you can handle him.”
Atticus looked down at her, his gaze lingering—thick, almost unbearably tender, as if all his emotions were pressing against his eyes.
“What is it?” she asked. “What did Grandpa say to you?”
“Nothing.” He brushed his fingers through her hair, his voice gentle. “Clarissa… I’m so happy.”
.....
That night, Atticus had just finished making the bed when there was a knock at the door, followed by Callum’s familiar cough.
Atticus opened it.
Callum stood there, his expression full of disdain. He thrust something forward.
“Take it.”
Atticus accepted the small container. Inside was a single red pill—the mother Gu.
“Do it yourself,” Callum said curtly, then turned and walked away without another word.
.....
Inside, Clarissa had just finished bathing. She stepped out wrapped in a thick robe, her hair still slightly damp.
The moment Atticus saw her, he moved quickly, towel in hand, carefully wiping her face and drying her hair. Only after he was satisfied did he go back out and return with a bowl of dark medicinal soup, prepared for her pregnancy—quietly slipping the red pill inside.
Clarissa stared at the bowl.
“Atticus, I’m already better. I don’t need to drink this anymore, right?”
“Just one more day,” he said softly. “After that, I’ll turn it into pills. You can just swallow them.”
“That’s more like it.”
She took the bowl and drank it in one go.
When she handed it back, her brows knit slightly.
“Atticus… today’s medicine tastes strange. Kind of fishy.”
“Maybe you’re more sensitive because you’re pregnant,” he said calmly. “It tastes the same to me.”
“…Maybe Grandpa’s medicine is stronger.”
“Maybe.”
He held her close, and the two lay down together.
Atticus stared at the woman in his arms—her cheeks flushed, her breathing steady. His heart pounded violently. He took several deep breaths, forcing himself to suppress the storm raging inside his chest.
Clarissa looked up at him and suddenly felt like laughing.
“Atticus, are you asleep?”
“Not yet. Aren’t you?”
“I can’t sleep.”
“Are you uncomfortable?” He tensed immediately.
“No!” She laughed softly. “Silly. Since neither of us can sleep… let’s go for a walk.”
Atticus hesitated, but under her persistent coaxing, he finally gave in.
They dressed quietly.
The night wind was strong. Atticus wrapped Clarissa layer after layer, then draped a cloak over her shoulders. Hand in hand, they walked along the mountain path. Everything was silent—only the wind, the stars, and the full moon hanging bright in the sky.
They climbed all the way to the mountaintop.
From here, the moon looked enormous—like a glowing disc close enough to touch.
“So beautiful…” Clarissa murmured. It was the first time she’d ever seen the moon like this.
She turned to Atticus.
As expected, his eyes were still on her.
“Why do you always stare at me?”
“I like watching you.”
“After all these years, don’t you get tired of it?”
“Never.” He lowered his chin onto her soft hair. “What about you?”
“Hmm?”
“Clarissa…” His voice was quiet. “I’m so happy.”
“So am I.” She looked up at the moon. “When I was little, I thought the moon was magical. The headmaster said that if you made a wish on a full moon night, it would come true.”
“What did you wish for?”
“I wished for a home,” she said softly. “A real one. Like other children. A home with the people I love.”
Atticus stared at her for a long time before smiling.
“It really did hear you. It really is magical.”
She turned to him.
“So if you could make a wish, what would it be?”
Atticus lifted his gaze to the moon.
“I hope… in my next life, I can be an ordinary person.”
“I hope I can be an ordinary boy,” he murmured, “and love Clarissa properly just once. Love you with my whole heart—just once.”
“Atticus…” Her voice trembled, her eyes instantly reddening. “I’ll take any version of you. No matter what you are.”
“Idiot…”
“It’s a promise,” she said softly. “This life—and the next.”
“Yes.” He held her tighter. “It’s a promise.”
Around eleven or twelve, Clarissa finally drifted off to sleep in his arms, beneath the full moon and the silent stars.
When Clarissa woke the next morning, she found herself wrapped tightly in thick quilts, wearing only a thin nightgown.
Still half-asleep, she sat up, changed slowly, and padded into the next room to wash up.
It was cold outside. A light frost had settled over Callum’s vegetable garden, silvering the leaves. When Clarissa stepped out, she saw Atticus helping Callum harvest greens.
Atticus wore a plain gray padded jacket, bending over to pick vegetables still crusted with frost. Callum sat nearby, legs crossed, sipping tea like a man supervising hired labor rather than torturing it.
“Stir-fry some of those tonight,” Callum said lazily. “Frosted greens are sweet—don’t fuck them up. Half go into the cellar. The rest get pickled.”
Atticus worked in silence, sweat already dampening his collar despite the cold.
Clarissa’s heart pinched. She turned to fetch him some hot water, but Callum stopped her with a wave of his hand.
“Girl, you just woke up. Go eat breakfast. Don’t worry about that brat.”
Clarissa knew he was doing it on purpose. She didn’t argue—just turned back inside and sat down to eat.
Halfway through her meal, Atticus came in.
The sight of him—hair damp with sweat, sleeves rolled up—made Clarissa want to laugh.
Atticus met her gaze instinctively and took a step toward her.
“No slacking off,” Callum barked from behind him. “After the vegetables, you’re building the shed. Then clean the warehouse and cellar. After that, go up the mountain and gather the herbs and tonics Clarissa needs.”
Atticus froze, helpless, then turned around and walked straight back out.
Clarissa watched his retreating figure and finally laughed.
“Still laughing?” Callum sat down beside her, shooting her a sharp look. “Always acting recklessly. You’re lucky the baby’s fine.”
“I’m fine too,” Clarissa replied lightly. Hearing him mention the baby only made her smile deepen.
She touched her stomach, then paused, as if remembering something. “Grandpa… there’s something I want to tell you. It’s about my mother.”
“Your mother was murdered,” Callum said calmly. “That Wraith girl told me a few days ago.”
Clarissa straightened. “Then you know why I have to go. I need to find the person who killed her.”
Callum nodded. “Go. Avenge her. Just be careful.” His gaze dropped to her wrist. “Keep the Blood Jade on.”
“I will.” Clarissa lifted her sleeve, revealing the vivid red jade against her skin.
Callum studied her for a moment, then sighed. “You can leave if you want. But before you do, there’s something you must take.”
He led her to a small building in the backyard. It was larger than it looked from outside, packed with jars, bottles, and strange containers that made Clarissa’s scalp prickle.
“Grandpa… this is—”
Callum pulled out a box from a cabinet and handed it to her. “That kid gave you the Butterfly Gu, but his skills aren’t there yet. The things he makes only work at night. These are mine.”
Inside the box were several pills—and a fat golden worm, still writhing.
“All of them are refined by me,” Callum said flatly. “Drip your blood on them. Once they hatch, they’ll recognize you as their master. Normally, they’ll stay hidden in your sleeve or pocket. If you’re in danger, they’ll act on your will. They won’t harm innocents.”
Clarissa swallowed. “Grandpa… isn’t this a bit much?”
“Not at all.” Callum gestured at the box. “Each Gu has a different use—detoxification, attack, temporary mind control. They feed on animal blood. Once a week is enough. If they’re hungry, they’ll handle it themselves. As for lifespan…” His eyes sharpened. “They live as long as their master does.”
He picked up the golden worm. “Eat this one now. Golden Silkworm Gu. It protects you from all Gu attacks. It’s the natural enemy of every Gu in existence.”
If Atticus was already using these methods, then enemies would eventually follow. And if anyone dared target his wife or child—
Better safe than dead.
Clarissa stared at the thick, glistening worm. Cold sweat broke out on her back. “Um… Grandpa, could you explain the others first?”
Callum did—methodically, thoroughly, mercilessly.
By the time he finished, Clarissa realized escape was not an option.
Under his unblinking gaze, she picked up the golden worm.
It wasn’t ugly—but that didn’t help.
She closed her eyes and shoved it into her mouth.
The moment it touched her tongue, it dissolved into warm liquid, sliding straight down her throat.
Callum finally relaxed. “Good. You can go.”
When Atticus saw the pile of boxes Clarissa was carrying, his brow furrowed. “What’s wrong? You look troubled.”
“It’s… a long story.” Clarissa explained everything.
Atticus listened quietly, then nodded. “Accept his goodwill. But for now—” He selected one small box and placed it in front of her. “This one’s enough. Let it rest on your shoulder or a button. No one will notice it.”
Clarissa reached for the needle beside her, but Atticus stopped her. “I’ll do it.”
He examined her pale fingertip several times before pricking it carefully. A single drop of blood fell. He immediately wrapped her finger as if she’d been seriously injured.
His excessive caution made Clarissa laugh. “What are you doing? Even prenatal blood tests aren’t this dramatic.”
Atticus tied the bandage gently, his voice low.
“Seeing you hurt… hurts me.”
Just then, the eggs hatched with a faint snap, and a butterfly emerged—jet black, its tail dusted with speckles of darker black, stunning in its elegance.
Clarissa instinctively held out her finger. The butterfly landed softly, wings fluttering slightly before settling. It obeys its master’s will, she thought.
After a moment’s consideration, she placed it on the button of her robe. It moved a few times, testing its perch, then froze, looking almost like a delicate brooch.
“Keep it with you during the day,” Callum instructed. “Its function is similar to my butterfly, but this one’s more advanced. These venomous creatures feed on the nectar of a particular flower. I’ll plant one at home—it’ll be their nighttime resting place.”
Clarissa looked at Atticus. “When we go back, let’s go to Phoenix. We need to settle my mother’s affairs.”