The Person Who Doesn't Belong to This Time and Space

Situ Xuan leaned forward, his right hand slipping under Vassago's armpit while his left supported his waist, catching him steadily in his arms. Vassago was more than half a head shorter than him and much lighter, lying in his embrace like a dead branch snapped by the wind, so light he seemed to have no weight at all. His long orange-red hair spilled over Situ Xuan's arm, the ends nearly dragging on the ground as they drifted gently in the air.

Situ Xuan lowered his head and glanced at the person in his arms. Vassago's face rested against his chest, his pale skin covered in dust and dried blood, a trace of black blood still hanging at the corner of his mouth. His eyes were half-open, half-closed, orange-red irises reflecting Situ Xuan's chin and collarbone. There was little light in his pupils, yet that faint smile still lingered at his lips.

"What are you smiling for?" Situ Xuan's voice was cold enough to sound like a curse.

Vassago did not speak. He merely leaned his face a little closer against Situ Xuan's chest.

Situ Xuan's brows creased, but he did not push him away. He pushed off the ground with both feet, his body rising into the air as he flew toward the palace with the huge hole blasted through it.

The hole Situ Xuan had punched through the palace wall was still there. Broken bricks were scattered all over the floor, and dust still drifted through the air. Situ Xuan flew in through the opening and landed on the floor of the bedchamber. His footsteps were very light, almost soundless, but the gravel underfoot still crunched beneath him.

He walked to the bedside and threw Vassago onto it.

Vassago's body bounced once on the bed. His long orange-red hair