[Leif's POV — Thorenvald Estate, Frojnholm—Continuation]
After that night in the white realm—when the old woman handed me this strange marble and whispered about "chaining the devil"—I'd tried to uncover everything I could about the real Leif.
I hired information guilds, mercenaries, and even a few questionable fortune-tellers. But every lead led to the same picture—The original Leif trailing after Elowen like a lovesick puppy. Loyal, foolish, and utterly ordinary.
No divine records. No secret bloodline. No hint of power. Nothing that could explain why I, of all people, ended up here—wearing his face, wielding his name.
And yet, my sealed divine powers… The truth behind them… It all circled back to him.
The dead Leif.
I leaned back against the railing, staring at the faintly glowing marble in my palm. "Should I tell Alvar?" I muttered under my breath.
