The Snake God with SSS Rank Evolution System

Chapter 362: What Power Couldn’t Give

Isolde’s fingers stilled, the bird on her hand chirping softly as if sensing the shift in her mood. Her voice was quiet, but carried an edge of something older than irritation."Is that what you think? That I’m cold?"

Adam’s lips curved into a faint, teasing smile. "I mean, yeah. You’re always frowning. You never smile. It makes people not want to approach you."

Isolde’s gaze dropped to the bird on her finger, her voice quieter now. "You’re one to talk about coldness... when you’re the one who put poison in my veins."

Adam shrugged, his tone light. "You started it. And I’m not that bad to you, am I?"

Isolde’s pale eyes lifted to meet his, a flicker of something sharp beneath the surface. "You poisoned me. That is not exactly a gesture of kindness."

Adam’s expression softened, his voice quieter now. "I offered to remove it. You said no."

Isolde’s gaze dropped to her lap, her fingers curling into the fabric of her cloak. "...That’s because..." Her voice cracked slightly, and she paused, swallowing hard before continuing.

The bird on her finger chirped again, tilting its head as if waiting for her to continue. Adam waited, his crimson eyes steady on her face, waiting patiently.

Isolde’s voice came out quieter than before, barely above a whisper. "Because I didn’t want to be separated from you."

The words hung in the air between them, fragile and unexpected. The bird on her finger ruffled its feathers, as if it too was waiting for her response.

Adam didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then, softly, "Isolde..."

Isolde’s voice came out quiet, but firm, as if she was forcing the words past a wall of pride. "Don’t. I don’t want your pity."

"It’s not pity." Adam’s voice was gentle. "I just... didn’t know that’s how you felt."

Isolde was silent for a long moment, her gaze fixed on the bird on her finger. Then, slowly, she spoke, her voice carrying the weight of centuries.

"The truth is, Adam... I’ve never known what it feels like to be wanted for who I am. I grew up in a world where power was the only currency that mattered. My father taught me that trust was a weakness. That kindness was a tool to be used and discarded. I believed him. I had to believe him, because the alternative was admitting that the only person I was supposed to rely on saw me as nothing more than a vessel for his ambitions."

She paused, her fingers trembling slightly. "When I left, I thought I could escape that world. I thought I could find a place where I could be... something else. Something that wasn’t defined by bloodlines and power."

She let out a slow, bitter breath. "But I was wrong. The world outside was just as cruel. Just as cold. Just as willing to use people and discard them when they were no longer useful."

The bird on her finger chirped softly, and Isolde’s gaze dropped to it, her voice softening. "And then I met you. And you were... different."

Adam’s voice was quiet. "Different how?"

Isolde’s lips pressed into a thin line. "You didn’t treat me like a tool. You didn’t try to use me. You just... let me exist. Even when you had every reason not to."

She paused, her voice dropping lower. "And when you offered to remove the poison, I realized I didn’t want to leave. Because for the first time in my life, I had found somewhere I didn’t want to escape from."

The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words. Adam’s voice came out quiet, careful.

"Isolde...you..."

Isolde’s hand moved, cutting him off gently. "Don’t. I already said what I needed to say. I don’t need you to say anything back."

The bird on her finger chirped again, and she let out a soft, almost imperceptible breath. "Let’s just leave it at that. Please."

Adam’s gaze lingered on Isolde’s small, trembling form. She looked even smaller than usual, her shoulders hunched, her fingers still curled into the fabric of her cloak. The birds had flown away at some point during her confession, leaving her alone with the weight of her words.

Adam’s internal voice was quiet, thoughtful.

’Isolde really is this small... I never noticed before. She always carries herself with such pride, such sharpness. But right now... she looks fragile.’

His hand moved before he could stop it. He reached out, his arm wrapping around her shoulders, pulling her gently but firmly against his side.

Isolde’s breath caught. Her body went rigid, her pale eyes wide with shock. She didn’t move for a long moment—then she pushed against his chest, her voice sharp and flustered.

"W-What are you doing?! Let go of me!"

Adam didn’t release her. His arms tightened slightly, his voice quiet but steady.

"No."

Isolde’s struggles intensified, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson. Her voice rose, cracking with embarrassment.

"I said let me go! This is—this is not appropriate! I’m not some child that needs comforting!"

Adam’s lips curved into a faint, almost teasing smile. "You’re shaking, Isolde. And you look like you’re about to cry. So no. I’m not letting go."

Isolde’s struggles faltered. Her voice came out smaller, weaker.

"I’m not going to cry..."

Adam’s voice softened. "It’s okay if you do. I won’t tell anyone."

Isolde’s hands, still pressed against his chest, trembled. Her head dropped forward, her forehead resting against his shoulder. Her voice came out barely a whisper.

"...You’re so stubborn."

Adam’s smile widened slightly. "I know."

Isolde’s shoulders began to shake. A soft, choked sound escaped her throat—half laugh, half sob. She pressed her face into his shoulder, her fists curling into his shirt.

"Stop being nice to me... It’s confusing..."

Adam’s hand moved to her hair, his fingers gently combing through the silver-white strands.

"Isolde. You don’t have to keep pretending. Not with me."

Isolde’s body went still. Then, slowly, she relaxed—her grip on his shirt loosening, her head settling more heavily against his shoulder.

"...I don’t understand you," she whispered. "No one has ever... been like this with me."

Adam’s voice was gentle. "Then maybe you should start getting used to it."