During the lifetime of the late Duke Wolfgang, the name “Venomaine” was a taboo in the House of Wolfgang.

Satan. Serpent. Snake. Monster. Demon.
All these words were used to refer to the Venomaines.

“Son, never associate with those snake-like Venomaines. They’re devils who do nothing but hide their fangs, waiting to sink them into your neck.”

The late Duke Wolfgang harbored a deep hatred for the Venomaines.
His own father had been crippled for life by the poison of a Venomaine during a duel at the Syliera Tournament.
He was a good father, and an ideal duke—
but when it came to the Venomaines, he had no restraint.

“Yes, Father. I’ll defeat all those disgusting Venomaines!”

And so, from birth until his admission to the academy, Edmund thought of the Venomaines as demons disguised in human skin.

Demons lurking in the dark, flicking their tongues, always hunting.
That’s why, when he found out that the silver-haired girl he fell for at first sight by the academy lake was actually from the Venomaine clan,
he felt an overwhelming sense of betrayal.

“Get lost! We’re not friends anymore!”

“E-Edmund, what’s wrong all of a sudden?”

Even as Irene replied with a troubled and disappointed look, Edmund couldn’t help but think she looked beautiful for a moment—
and that angered him even more.

‘She’s from the very clan that ruined Grandfather.’

With poison, cruel and cowardly.
“What do you mean ‘what’s wrong’? You’re a Venomaine. You’re probably just waiting to poison me too!”

“Poison? What are you talking about? Why would I—”

“Just go away! Because of you, my grandfather—”

Edmund could never forget the expression Irene showed at that moment, or the last words she left before their relationship fell apart:

“…I thought maybe we could be a little different.”

In the eyes of the eleven-year-old girl who said that, there was not anger, but a quiet sadness.
Though Edmund’s heart ached, the swelling emotion from a desire to avenge his father and grandfather was already uncontrollable.

Later, Edmund would come to regret his actions that day to the point of wishing for death.

From that day on, Edmund was obsessed with defeating Irene.
In sword duels, in regular classes, and even in final exams—he always tried to beat her.
Unfortunately, despite loudly claiming he would surpass Irene, he remained second place, while Irene effortlessly stayed at the top.
This only made Edmund resent her more.

“Damn it! I can’t stand those Venomaines.”

He hated Pearson, the legitimate wife’s son, and he hated Irene, the half-blood.
Pearson constantly caused trouble and picked fights, and Irene—
Irene didn’t even acknowledge Edmund, didn’t treat him as a rival, and barely seemed to care.

And that’s what made it worse.

Unfortunately, Edmund happened to make that exact complaint—
alone, in a corridor, near where Pearson and his Venomaine gang were gathered.

Pearson was notorious, to the point where even professors openly called him a delinquent.
If someone angered him, he would retaliate without thinking.
That day, already in a foul mood, Pearson overheard Edmund cursing and, without hesitation, had his gang drag Edmund into an underground storage room.

Since Edmund preferred to go around without attendants, no one was there to stop them.
Had he awakened his powers, it might’ve been different. But at the time, Edmund had yet to awaken the power of the Wolfgang bloodline.
So he could only grit his teeth, forced to kneel before ten upperclassmen.

“You bastard… lower than an animal…”

That was the trigger. Furious that Edmund wouldn’t submit, Pearson did something that should never be done.
He forced a poisonous liquid—made from toxic herbs the Venomaines consumed to cultivate stronger venom—down Edmund’s throat.

For Pearson and Irene, who were already used to the poison, the liquid posed no threat.
But for Edmund, with no resistance to toxins, it caused severe pain.
It wouldn’t kill him, but for a child of his age, it was unbearable agony.

‘I’ll kill them. All of them.’

Edmund vowed that if he survived, he would kill not just Pearson, but his half-sister Irene too.
Even as he endured the burning pain in his throat and stomach lining.

“Look at this worm. Just as I thought—Wolfgangs are nothing without their powers.”

Pearson sneered as he watched Edmund writhe in agony.
And just as Edmund was wishing he could kill him right then and there,
the heavy underground door creaked open with an eerie groan.

“What the—? I locked that!”

Pearson shouted irritably, thinking a professor or supervisor had arrived—
but instead, a small glass vial rolled into the room, releasing a faint white smoke.

“Wh-what is this?!”

The smoke spread instantly.
Edmund, lying on the ground, watched as those who had been laughing at him collapsed one by one.

‘Sleeping gas?’

At such a strange time?
He couldn’t move—his body was heavy, and his eyelids drooped like lead.

Then, through the haze of smoke, he saw a small, steady silhouette.

‘Irene Venomaine…?’

Edmund thought he was really going to die.
Defenseless, poisoned, and now—another Venomaine was here.

‘You really can’t trust them.’

As he saw Irene walk toward him, her face cold and unreadable, Edmund ground his teeth.
He wanted to slap his past self for ever having been fluttered by her presence.

She held two vials in her hands, eyes wide and oddly sorrowful despite her blank expression.
When she reached him, Edmund glared and spat out a curse:

“Mon…ster… Attacking… when I’m… weak… Cow…ard…”

But the poison had damaged his throat and palate—his voice barely came out.

Eventually, sleep began to take hold.
Irene said nothing. She simply opened the vial in her left hand, gently raised Edmund’s chin, and poured the contents into his mouth.

‘Blood…!’

The dark crimson liquid had a distinct metallic scent—Edmund thrashed violently.

He was already poisoned, and now she was feeding him Venomaine blood? That would surely kill him!

“It’s not poison. You have to drink it, Edmund. If you don’t, you’re in danger…”

Her voice was trembling.
In her amethyst eyes, a fierce emotion briefly flickered—something that left Edmund deeply confused.

In that moment, some instinct told him—
Irene wasn’t here to hurt him. She was here to save him.

“Sorry. Just bear with it for a little…”

Irene poured the entire vial into his mouth.
Her arm, which held the bottle, was wrapped in bandages tinged with blood.

‘Her own blood…?’

The scent from the bandages and the blood in his mouth were identical.

Venomaine powers don’t activate until adulthood. Meaning, her blood shouldn’t be poisonous.

‘Then why…?’

Whatever her reason, Irene now opened a second vial—this time filled with a clear liquid.

“I’m really sorry… but no one can know about this. You’d figure it out right away with that sharp nose of yours.”

“Sorry”?

Edmund couldn’t understand anything anymore.
Why was she making that bitter expression?
Why were her eyes—those eyes he’d always found irritating—suddenly… not?

Why was she apologizing to him?

‘Because of my nose…? That I’d recognize her blood right away?’

While that question filled his head, Irene poured the second liquid into his mouth.

And the moment he tasted it, Edmund knew—
It was a short-term memory eraser.

“I’m sorry, Edmund. I’d really appreciate it if you could forget all of this.”

He wanted to reach out and stop her, but his arms wouldn’t move.

‘Forget?’

That voice that tried to soothe him so gently.
That lonely-looking back.
Those sorrowful eyes.
That bittersweet scent of her blood.

How could he possibly forget?

‘Like hell I will.’

With what little strength he had, Edmund spat the liquid onto the ground.

As his eyelids finally closed, he repeated over and over in his mind—

‘I must not forget. I must not forget today.

I must not forget my mistake.’

When Edmund opened his eyes, he was lying in the academy infirmary.

“Ugh… what…?”

He winced and held his forehead, barely managing to sit up.

‘No one’s here?’

It seemed the infirmary’s professor was absent.

“Ugh, I have to get to class…”

Eventually, he left the bed and called out.

“Professor Kestan? Are you there?”

But no one replied.

“Professor Kestan, I’m from House Wolfgang—”

And then—

Edmund stopped in his tracks.

“Huh…?”

What he saw next left him speechless.