The Reaper's Vengeance A Sister's Wrath Unleashed

A rush of absurd, desperate hope flooded through me, and I let half the tension drain from my lungs.

Could it be……that I'd spent too long in the Netherworld, missed him so badly it made me sick, and misidentified that tattered soul fragment?

The Sylvester standing right in front of me was fine. He was here, alive, at Nellie's side, the two of them warm and affectionate. He held the honored position of the Morton family's son-in-law, living in comfort and prestige.

How could he possibly be that pitiful wreck abandoned in the wilderness, with only half a soul left, too broken to even cry properly?

The moment he saw me, my brother's eyes lit up.

He tossed aside his hand wraps and came striding toward me, that smile on his face the same one I knew best in the world.

“Rose! Finally! I've missed you so much!”

He grabbed my arms and looked me over head to toe, his eyes brimming with joy.

“Nellie was just scolding me about it, saying I'm a terrible brother for not making you stay a few more days.”

He took his shirt from a servant and pulled it on while he talked.

My gaze drifted instinctively to the base of his spine, to the tailbone. The slight protrusion was clearly visible through the fabric, identical to the shape I remembered from the time I'd mended his bones years ago.

The dread I'd carried the entire way here finally settled.

All I felt was guilt and self-mockery, convinced I'd been overthinking for days, scaring myself over nothing.

I pushed the last traces of unease from my eyes and drew out a small, crudely stitched rag doll from inside my coat.

“I saw this little doll at a market. Think of it as an early gift for your future kid.”

He took the doll, and the tips of his ears went red. He scratched the back of his head, grinning sheepishly.

“What are you on about……”

That shy look. Exactly the way I remembered it.

Nellie immediately sidled over with a laugh and turned to tease me.

“Someone's eager. Already looking forward to being an auntie?”

The teasing turned his face even redder. He snatched the doll back from Nellie and tossed it to a nearby servant.

“Put that away carefully. It's a gift from my sister. Don't let anything happen to it.”

He turned back to me, still smiling.

But I couldn't smile anymore.

That rag doll wasn't something I'd picked up at a street stall. I had sewn it with my own hands after I gave fifty years of my lifespan to save his life. I had told him, again and again, to keep it on him at all times.

How could he not recognize it?

My nails dug into my palms as I stared straight at him.

“Look at it again. Carefully. Do you really think it's pretty?”

A flicker of impatience crossed his face, gone almost before it arrived, replaced by that easy warmth.

“Of course it's pretty. My kid sister picked it out. Everything she picks is pretty.”

That single sentence dropped me into ice water.

I circled behind him, pretending to straighten his collar.

My fingers slipped beneath the fabric, and the scar running through his throat came into view.

Right position. Right length. Right shape.

But no matter how perfect the copy, a forgery is still a forgery.

The smile on my face went cold by degrees. I tilted my head toward Nellie.

“Miss Morton. My brother saved your life, and this is how you repay him.”

Nellie's expression darkened instantly.

“What exactly is that supposed to mean, Rose?”

The man grabbed Nellie's hand and turned on me, reproach sharpening his voice.

“Rose. Watch your mouth.”

“You've been running wild out there too long, so I'll let it slide. But this is the Morton household. You don't get to be disrespectful here.”

The tears I'd been fighting finally broke free, sliding down from the corners of my eyes.

My real brother would have shielded me before anything else. He never would have scolded me like that, and he never, ever would have taken someone else's side and told me to apologize.

I wiped the tears from the corner of my eye. When I opened them again, nothing remained but ice-cold hatred：

“Drop the act. Where is my brother Sylvester Delgado? Where is he really?”

Nellie laughed, the sound sharp with fury. She smoothed the ends of her hair, her tone dripping with mockery：

“Rose, I think the long ride scrambled your brain. Your brother's standing right in front of you, isn't he?”

I didn't bother answering. A flick of my fingertip, and the temperature around us plummeted. Cold wind tore through the entire courtyard in an instant.

In the darkness, countless pairs of green eyes flickered to life.

Spectral soldiers fell into formation. Ten thousand ghosts stood silent.

I stood at the front, the hem of my White Reaper's robe snapping in the wind, five hundred years of fury churning behind my eyes like nothing I had ever known.

“Nellie. My brother gave you everything. He put his life on the line for you.”

“If he really was murdered, if his soul was shattered far from home……”

I raised my fingertip, and behind me the ranks of spectral soldiers advanced a single step in unison.

“I will make you taste every last floor of the eighteen hells.”