The Shepherds Are Dense

Chapter 147. Yulia Reborn

With Lily’s matter settled, Aiwass didn’t join her at school.Having taken the day off, he decided to stay home and keep Yulia company as she rested.

In the past, when Aiwass was home, Yulia would often clutch her stuffed toy and slip into his room to sleep beside him. Her body was always feverishly warm, radiating heat like a furnace even without touching him. In winter, it was tolerable, but in summer, it left Aiwass parched and cracked-lipped. Yet he never turned her away.

He understood deeply that his discomfort paled compared to Yulia’s suffering. Since their orphanage days, they had supported each other, forging a profound bond. From age six or seven, Yulia endured constant fevers, her body perpetually frail.

For anyone else, such pain might wilt the soul like a dying flower. Depression, anxiety, or rage would be mild reactions; lashing out, breaking things, or even contemplating suicide wouldn’t be surprising.

But Yulia was different.

The greater her pain and melancholy, the brighter her soul shone. She channeled all her suffering into an insatiable thirst for knowledge—mathematics, physics, architecture, geology, history, alchemy. She craved subjects that let her mind roam, letting her experience the world’s depth without leaving her room.

When Aiwass visited her bedroom, he often found her dismantling expensive appliances their foster father had bought. In Avalon, electrical devices were rare; few households had electric lights or telephones. Yet, at eleven or twelve, Yulia had successfully disassembled and reassembled fans, radios, telephones, irons, phonographs, and cameras.

Before regaining his past-life memories, Aiwass would sit beside her, marveling as she transformed scattered parts into working wholes—a feat like magic. Yulia would smile faintly, her delicate face glowing with satisfaction, her eyes sparkling like gems.

Compared to her visible brilliance, Aiwass felt his own talents lacking. In her moments of pain, he could only watch and offer soft words of comfort. Later, he realized she didn’t need consoling—she was strong enough to recover alone. What she needed was his presence.

Whenever Yulia was in agony, Aiwass stayed with her through the night. When headaches woke her, he’d gently hold her hand or stroke her hair, whispering, “I’m here, don’t be afraid.”

And so it was today.

Aiwass sat quietly on the bed beside Yulia, reading. Propped against a pillow, one leg bent, he balanced a book on his knee, its spine held by his left hand. The cover, adorned with golden iris script, read .

The room was silent save for the occasional rustle of pages and Aiwass’s faint breathing. Afternoon winter sunlight spilled across the bedside table and warmed his hair, casting a golden halo around his platinum locks.

When Yulia awoke, this was the scene she saw.

Her eyes widened in a daze.

Her head no longer ached.

Nor did her skin or bones. Her hands could grip firmly, her breaths no longer seared her throat, her heart no longer thudded dully, and the phantom whispers in her mind were gone.

For the first time, she felt hunger—a ravenous appetite she’d rarely known. Her frail, anorexic body had never craved food like this.

Tears streamed from her eyes.

Hearing her soft sobs, Aiwass snapped the book shut, set it aside, and asked with concern, “What’s wrong, Yuli? Are you still unwell?”

Yulia shook her head vigorously and threw herself into his arms.

Her quiet sobs grew louder, muffled against his chest, as if releasing years of pent-up grievances.

Lily, reading silently on the sofa, looked up with tender pity. Only in this moment did the Moriarty household truly see that Yulia, the prodigy who seemed to know and master everything, was still just a fifteen-year-old girl.

Feeling her outpouring emotions, Aiwass exhaled in relief. He held her tightly, resting his chin on her head, eyes closed, gently patting her back as he had when lulling her to sleep.

After a long while, she calmed. Silently, she pulled back, wiping her face carefully with a handkerchief.

“I’m so happy, brother…” Her voice was soft but no longer weak and wispy. Her past fragility came from anorexia and exhaustion, not her natural tone. “Not just because you healed me, but because I can stay with you. I won’t… suddenly leave you someday.

“Really, I felt it coming… that day wasn’t far off…”

Despite the grim topic—her looming death—her eyes gleamed with light. “But now, I can keep living… It’s wonderful.”

For the first time, she was free from death’s shadow.

Like a butterfly breaking from its chrysalis, Yulia had struggled free, spreading her wings to soar. Her face glowed with radiant hope, making her breathtakingly beautiful.

“A fifteen-year-old girl, in the bloom of youth, should naturally live happily, full of hope,” Aiwass said, stroking her hair. “This world owed you that. I took it back for you.”

Yulia didn’t reply, simply nuzzling his hand like a puppy, eyes half-closed in contentment.

Finally, Aiwass hugged her again, exhaling deeply, gazing upward.

“I was terrified, too,” he admitted. “I wasn’t sure I could seal the phantom in you or if you’d be safe.

“I sensed you were at your limit. That foreboding drove me to act, to use my first attempt on you without testing on others.

“Thank the Candlekeeper, the Serpent Father… and maybe a little thanks to the Fallen Celestial. I succeeded.”

These were words he couldn’t have spoken before the ritual, lest they shake Yulia’s confidence or his own resolve. He’d tested extracting phantom power for cards but not sealing a Great Sin Beast. With the Fallen Celestial still active, failure was possible.

Yet, driven by unwavering determination, he overcame his fear and succeeded. Now, he could reflect candidly.

“What scares me in hindsight,” he said, “is that you were truly at your limit. If you’d lost control, safe sealing would’ve been impossible. The Butterfly would’ve consumed your life. After sealing, Illumination showed me how ravaged your body was—like a chrysalis hollowed out, its nutrients drained.”

Yet, in that state, Yulia’s soul had blazed with brilliance. Aiwass felt genuine admiration for his sister.

Freed from the deadly shackles of her fate, her soul—gifted in Balance, Wisdom, Devotion, and Transcendence—would shine. She could become an alchemist or mage, her body still holding traces of the Butterfly’s flame, making her fire innately fiercer than others’.

Once the Butterfly matured beyond its juvenile stage, Aiwass could use Nurturing (Essence) to reinfuse its power into her. The skill didn’t permanently weaken him, but with limited slots, he had to choose carefully.

Lily suited the shadow demon’s power; Yulia was the perfect match for the Butterfly.

“By the way… where’s Dodd, brother?” Yulia asked, suddenly missing her odd bear plush.

Dodd was a character from Avalon’s popular children’s comic, . A white, bear-like creature with long, drooping rabbit ears, its face bore a stitched “X” scar and smaller “x” eyes, looking half-dead. In the comic, it was a bumbling villain, an immortal monster like Jason, chasing the protagonist—a bear named Chief Brown, an inspector—with a butcher knife but dying comically each encounter.

For some reason, Yulia adored it. Aiwass had asked why before, but she always dodged the question. Now, he asked again, and she finally answered.

“…No special reason, maybe superstition,” she said, shyly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I just thought… we’re similar. Both pale, red-eyed, bodies all broken.”

Her voice softened. “I hoped I could be like it—vital, unkillable.”

It was a simple, raw desire to live, one she’d never shown Aiwass or their family—a fierce will to survive.

(Chapter End)