The vast practice room lay in dim, almost ominous lighting, shadowed corners only half-revealing the intricate carvings on the stone walls, depicting ancient tales of conquest and wrath.

The air was dense, saturated with Yoongi's intense, seething aura. His breaths were labored, heavy, but controlled-a telltale sign of the storm raging within him.

Bare-chested and glistening with sweat, Yoongi gripped his sword-Regalia of Searing Wrath, a blade forged in fires that could not be quenched, the epitome of power and destruction.

Each time the blade cut through the air, it left a faint trail of shimmering, deadly magic, like blue embers suspended in time. The room pulsated with his anger, and flickers of lightning trailed his every movement as he swung and spun in a relentless flurry, his strikes too swift, too deadly for mortal eyes.

The blade seemed to sing with him, mirroring his fury. Each slice, every pivot, was precise, practiced, and ferocious.

Yoongi's eyes glowed with a dangerous fire, a smoldering gaze that, combined with his honed movements, made him appear as if he were a god of war, untouched by weakness or remorse. And perhaps, he was something even deadlier than that.

Memories from the dining hall flashed through his mind, and with each one, he could feel the heat within him rise. The look of terror on his mortal sister's face lingered painfully, but not for her sake-for his pride.

Eun-hee, he thought bitterly, her name spiking his anger. The arrogance she displayed, daring to speak of his wife, his only love, whom he kept locked away in the deepest part of his heart.

No one could ever replace her, and that his mortal sister had witnessed this twisted scene made it even more unbearable.

His sword lashed out, slicing through an invisible foe with such force that sparks ignited, illuminating his face in brief, blazing flashes. As the light fell on his features, they looked even more fearsome, twisted with pride and resentment.

He spun once more, the blade arcing through the air, leaving trails of pure energy behind, lighting up the dark corners of the hall in flickers of deadly magic.

It was a display of power unmatched, unrivaled. Regalia of Searing Wrath was not just a sword; it was an extension of Yoongi himself-a symbol of his pride, his wrath, his deadly resolve.

Suddenly, his movement halted, and his sword pointed straight ahead, the tip pressed dangerously close to the throat of the Demon King, Hwan Min-sung.

Yoongi's father stood there, unmoved, his gaze cold, unwavering. Despite the lethal weapon at his neck, he regarded Yoongi with an air of calm authority.

Yoongi's glowing eyes narrowed, his grip on the sword tightening. "You dare stand before me, knowing full well what I am capable of?" His voice was low, a deadly whisper that could unnerve even the most seasoned warrior.

The Demon King met his gaze, unflinching. "I am not here to lecture you, Yoongi," he replied, his voice as icy as ever. "I know no one can scold the God of Pride-my most dangerous son." His words were laced with unspoken tension, though his tone remained collected. "But I am here for Y/N. She may not be a demon, but she bears our blood. She is still one of us. And as your sister-mortal or not-her wellbeing is under your care."

Yoongi's jaw clenched, his eyes blazing brighter, the light of his prideful magic flaring up around him. His stance didn't waver; if anything, he only became more defiant.

"A mere human has no place in our world. She is weak, undeserving of the honor of our lineage. If she cannot survive here, then send her back to where she came from." His voice held an iron edge, a command wrapped in disdain.

The Demon King's eyes flashed, a subtle warning in his otherwise composed expression. "You are powerful, Yoongi, but you are not the King....Whether Y/N remains here or not is my decision, not yours."

The subtle reminder of authority struck Yoongi's pride like a blade. He clenched his jaw, fighting the surge of magic that threatened to explode from him. His pride was not something that could be questioned-not even by a king.

"You will regret this choice," Yoongi threatened, his voice filled with dangerous intent, a promise of vengeance. "I will make you regret bringing her here by tearing her down until there is nothing left of her hope, her spirit." His words were spoken with a fierce conviction, a heartless certainty that sent a chill through even the shadowed hall.

The Demon King paused at the threshold, and though he didn't turn, his words lingered in the room like a haunting omen. "Time will reveal who truly lives in regret, Yoongi," he said, and the word "again" slipped from his lips, soft yet significant-a reminder of a past scar, one Yoongi could not erase.

The silence that followed was suffocating, yet Yoongi stood, his eyes narrowed with rage. He knew exactly what his father implied, and it cut into his pride like salt in a fresh wound.

The past he tried so desperately to bury threatened to rise again, and the reminder only fueled his anger further.

The Demon King's footsteps faded, leaving Yoongi alone once more. With a vicious swing, he lashed out at the air, the blade gleaming as it cut through the shadows. His magic flared brighter, filling the room with a deadly, blinding light.

"Pride is my strength, my essence," he muttered to himself, his voice as cold as steel. "And anyone who dares to challenge that will be crushed-whether it's a human, a king, or a god."

Each word echoed through the vast chamber, a declaration, a promise of what was to come. He resumed his practice, the relentless clashing of his sword resonating in the room, a sound that carried with it the fury of a god scorned.

Yoongi's final whisper drifted through the darkness: "Pride is all I have, and I will guard it at any cost. If I must be merciless, then so be it. None shall question the God of Pride and live to tell of it."

______________

Y/N sat alone in her chamber, her heart heavy with the weight of what she'd witnessed today. The horrific image of her brother Yoongi, so calm yet merciless as he sliced Eun-hee's neck, replayed in her mind.

She'd seen fear, and she'd seen anger-but never had she seen her own brother like that. It shook her to her core, and for the first time, she questioned if she could ever truly understand, let alone handle, her brothers.

As the room filled with silence, a soft sigh broke her dark thoughts. Milly, a small yet wise fairy who had been with Y/N , fluttered beside her, her delicate wings casting faint glimmers of light across the room.

"Y/N," Milly began gently, "it's unlike you to dwell in fear."

Y/N looked up, her face a mixture of dread and confusion. "Milly... is Yoongi always like this? I thought he was calm, someone who had this... unbreakable peace about him."

Milly's gaze was enigmatic, almost unreadable, as she replied, "One spark is enough to set a quiet forest ablaze."

Y/N's brows furrowed in thought, trying to decipher Milly's words. After a long moment, she murmured, "Yoongi's... wife. She must be the spark, isn't she?"

A faint, amused smile tugged at Milly's lips, and she nodded, her silence both an affirmation and a mystery.

"But... where is she?" Y/N pressed on, her curiosity growing. "Why don't I know anything about her?"

Milly's gaze grew distant, lost in memories she wouldn't fully share. "I know little, Y/N. Yoongi keeps his past well hidden. But his wife... she was more than just a spark. Her presence... it shaped the Sins, wove them together. Without her, the balance of your brothers-and even Yoongi himself-has never been the same."

Y/N sat back, her mind racing. "If she was the fire in his life, who could possibly bring him peace?"

Milly tilted her head, her expression softening with a knowing glint in her eye. "Perhaps, my dear, the answer lies closer than you think. Look within yourself, and maybe... just maybe, you will find it."

Y/N's confusion only deepened, though she knew better than to ask for more clarity from Milly. The fairy's riddles held truths, but she would never reveal them plainly. Y/N gave a soft sigh and climbed into her bed, hoping sleep would quiet her thoughts.

Tomorrow, she would return to school, to the comfort of something familiar-yet the questions would linger, a quiet whisper in the back of her mind.

Unbeknownst to her, in the shadowed corridor outside her chamber, someone watched her intently. A figure cloaked in darkness, a presence as fierce as it was unsettling.

It was Kim Taehyung, the God of Wrath.

His eyes burned with a fire far colder than Yoongi's-a wrath fueled not by pride, but by pure, unbridled protectiveness.

"She doesn't belong among us," he muttered to himself, his tone low and deadly. "She's too... human, too fragile. If she stirs what should remain buried, there will be consequences none of them can control."

Taehyung's jaw tightened, and he leaned against the wall, his voice barely a whisper. "Curiosity may drive her, but curiosity is a dangerous companion in our world. If she seeks answers, I will make sure she only finds the ones I allow."

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