She hid her demon lineage when she stayed in the Human Realm…
Zerath watched Vivia, tears that slowly slid down her eyes as the realization settled. His own heart raced with the weight of this truth.
Even before Vivia had been reincarnated into Clairette's body, even before their first meeting in the Realm of Harmony - they were always connected through that one person in this world they respected and admired above everyone else.
No wonder Vivia's dance had felt so familiar back then. It was Master's teaching, after all.
'If I win the royal battle tournament, can I finally see your right eye?' Zerath had eagerly asked once. 'You promised that you'll fulfill my wish if I win!'
Nara grimaced. 'Out of everything you could ask for, you want to see my other half of the face? What is with this obsession with you two?'
'Two?' he blinked.
She paused for a moment, then shrugged. 'I'm just saying how about you ask something more exciting? Oh, oh, I know~' her elbow nudged him in an unsettling manner. 'How about I help set you up with a beautiful demoness? You're of that age now~'
Zerath had given her the driest look possible.
'What is that disrespect I see in your dead eyes? You want a taste of my fist?' Her knuckles cracked.
'I'm not looking for a relationship, Master. I only wish to see your face.'
She smiled. 'I don't think you're ready to handle my beauty yet.'
Zerath threw her the same dry look once again.
'You're really asking for it now, aren't you?'
Zerath said, chest puffed, finger pointing at her. 'Whatever. A deal is a deal. I get to see your face if I win. You cannot run away from this one.'
But she had. That was the last Zerath had seen of her, and the only correspondence left behind was just one letter and one sentence - that she would be wandering around the realm in solitude from now on, and that she was proud of him for winning the tournament.
Vivia whispered. "It's impossible."
Zerath's gaze had never left off the statue. "I know it sounds impossible. It's impossible for a person to be born five hundred years ago and still…be alive to be our master."
"Umm…"
They turned to Arzan, who had been listening quietly this entire time and had finally gathered the courage to speak.
"M-My lord is saying that…before you got adopted into the royal family, our revered Varkhail was your master? This sculpture is of the Varkhail's?"
Zerath stared. "I believe, yes, though I know how improbable it sounds to you."
"It does sound improbable, but if my lord is sure about his master and the Varkhail being the same person, then there's a high chance that she was a part of one of the forbidden rituals. That explains the long life she lived - one that she's still living."
—
Silas had questions.
How had Judith reached them so quickly when she was already in a weakened state because of the poison?
The answer appeared soon enough when Finnian came into view. The dagger in his hand suggested he had used teleportation magic.
"So tell me, how'd you like to die?" Judith's fingers were already itching to release another arrow.
Silas was silently impressed by how they had managed to forge a bow and arrow using barks of trees and scraps of whatever the shore had offered. But using all that magic had expended much of his energy - and now he lay breathless, leaning against a tree.
The hooded figure hadn't yet answered. His attention kept drifting towards Silas more than Judith. He began to edge back, retreating into the shadows.
"Keep moving if you want to die. Right now, I'm in a very bad mood."
A sudden chill permeated in the air, and the bright blue sky above turned a menacing grey. Judith visibly stiffened, her body pricked with a harsh cold. It was as though the grey clouds had consumed the sun, casting another net of darkness within the forest.
Damn it! He's trying to escape!
Silas's spear was already in the air, but it had missed its mark. The now pitch-black forest looked like night had dawned upon it. He sprinted to where that intruder had been standing, but found nobody. By the time Judith had gotten adjusted to the sudden cold, the intruder had already vanished.
She climbed down from the ridge and Finnian said, slightly breathless, "He couldn't have disappeared. He's still here somewhere."
"It's too dark and cold. And it's getting colder," Silas's teeth clattered, up to the point that the chill was stiffening his muscles, restricting his free movements.
"He doesn't want us to move," A puff of cold mist escaped her lips. "How is he doing this though…? He knows how to use magic?"
"Not just any magic," Finnian sang with delight, savoring every bit of the frost circulating pure pain through his veins. "It's elemental magic - and I didn't see him use any magical tool. He did it innately."
Judith's gaze alternated between him and Silas "...Him being a demon is impossible."
"As much as I'd like to agree with you, that's the only conclusion I could reach as well," Silas clicked his tongue.
"Because apparently, he isn't just any demon. There's another demon I know who uses ice magic I'm very familiar with, and our culprit…seems to have some connection to Eurus."
—
The door opened and Drak stepped out, his expression deliberate with satisfaction.
"What took you so long?" One of the guards glared.
"I mean, you brought me here too…you know? I wanted the experience to last longer. It felt exotic doing it with a human for the first time."
The other guard peeked in the room and found the woman trembling beneath the sheets, shaking and crying in silence.
The first guard narrowed his eyes. "Do you have any questions to ask?"
"Plenty actually, but I don't want to die. As long as you don't kill me, I'm ready to do whatever you want. You can even make me your slave - just please don't kill me."
"That's right. Just keep your head down and do as you're told."
Drak nodded earnestly. "Yes, yes! I don't want to get on anyone's bad side."
Then he clasped his hands, slightly hesitant and inquisitive. "Will I be able to…you know…"
The guards exchanged a glance.
"Meet her again?"
He cleared his throat. "I-I mean the experience was truly different…Perhaps she was a human, so it felt more exciting."
His eyes widened for a moment before bursting into laughter. "Hahaha. That's the spirit. We don't care what happens to humans! There were some pathetic demons who actually felt guilty about it. Absolutely unacceptable!"
The second guard said, "You'll meet her again."
"Let me go! Let me go!"
A sudden scream from one of the rooms at the far end alerted them. The guards took off without a thought.
Drak was taken aback.
They didn't leave one behind to guard me?
Which means…someone more important is in that room.
He ducked quickly back into the room.
He couldn't speak to the woman, so he gestured instead - both hands out.
'It's okay, the crisis is over for now.'
The woman seemed to understand, and tension gradually left her shoulders as she sank back against the bed.
'I want to take a look at what's happening over there, so just stay here, okay?'
She didn't understand - but nodded anyway.
Drak reached the room where the two guards were occupied to restrain a human woman from going berserk. She kept screaming and shouting - all which went to deaf ears. She wailed with such sorrow that stabbed through Drak's heart. Something terrible had happened to her, making her desperate and violent.
The guards were too consumed to notice Drak standing at the entrance. He spotted a strange, narrow opening in the chamber's wall. He took a quick glance, the guards still occupied. Taking this chance, he slipped through the inner entrance that led him down to a stairwell.
Where do these stairs take…?
Soon, voices floated up from below. Then came a cry.
Is that a baby crying…?
As he reached the bottom of the stairwell, he swiftly ducked between two large stone slabs and peeked. What unfolded before him was a complete mystery.
Few men in masked robes stood before what he guessed appeared to be an altar. A baby has been placed in between two stony walls holding mysterious inscriptions. Before he could make sense of what was happening, his gaze caught onto a woman in the distance. Her hands were chained against the rocky wall, her face ashen and deathly pale.
And yet through her pale pallor, Drak felt mesmerized by her beauty. As though something about her didn't even belong to the mortal world.
Who is she…?