Samael did not think much in that moment.
It was the first time he had ever seen that woman in his life.If he truly were the slave… perhaps he would have hesitated.
But he wasn't.
From a young age, he had been trained for the Dream Realm.There, hesitation meant death.There, killing was a necessity—not a choice.
The screams from the stands echoed throughout the arena, too loud, too chaotic.
Irritating.
Samael tightened his grip around the sword and advanced.
When the woman saw him approaching, her eyes widened.
And then—
She dropped her sword.
The metal hit the ground with a dull clang.
Samael found it strange.
But he didn't stop.
He advanced without slowing and drove the blade into her body.
There was no resistance.
None at all.
That surprised him for an instant—and it was then that he felt something around him.
Arms.
The woman's arms wrapped around him.
Samael tensed, ready to resist. He thought she would try to take him down with her.
But there was no strength.
Only a weak embrace.
Desperate.
Confused, he raised his head.
Tears streamed down her face. Her lips trembled as she murmured something so softly it almost vanished beneath the roar of the arena.
Samael tilted his head.
Leaned closer.
— It's alright, my baby… everything will be alright…
The voice was hoarse.Tired.And… impossibly gentle.
In that instant, something Samael had locked away shattered.
He had always believed himself empty.Cold.Incapable of feeling.
But that wasn't true.
He had merely hidden it.
And now, everything surfaced at once.
Memories flooded him.
Coming home and looking for his mother.Silence.Absence.
The letter.
A farewell written by someone exhausted of living.
At the time, he had only stared at the paper without expression.Stayed like that for days.
Until the Spell dragged him into that hell.
Now, however, the affection of that unknown woman pierced him like an invisible blade.
It was the same affection.
The same warmth.
The same quiet care his mother had given him—even when tired, even when broken.
When she took her own life, she did it far away.So he wouldn't see the body.
Her final act of love.
She didn't want him to suffer.
The pain of that loss had been so suffocating that Samael had stopped feeling it.
Until now.
Everything exploded.
Like a dam bursting.
— Kill her! someone screamed from the stands.
— Be quiet… Samael whispered.
The world began to spin.
The smell of blood flooded his nostrils.
— Blood! Blood! a woman screamed.
— Be quiet… he repeated, his voice trembling.
The warmth of the body in his arms began to fade.
His breathing quickened.His heartbeat went out of rhythm.Cold sweat drenched his skin.
— Kill her! Blood! Blood! children screamed, laughing.
— Be quiet… Samael murmured.
The woman's body grew cold far too quickly.
The world seemed to shrink around him, crushing him from all sides.
The screams of the crowd no longer came from outside.
They echoed inside his skull.
Memories of affection blended together.Faces overlapped.
The woman in his arms.His mother.
The same warmth.
Until it vanished.
A profound cold emerged.
A cold that came from the soul.
It resonated with the chill of the body he was holding.
And it grew.
The memory cut to the moment he had found the letter.
The same emptiness.The same absolute cold.
Everything merged.
His mind darkened.
The last image he saw was his own mother—pierced by the sword in his hands—while an infernal chorus roared from the stands.
Then, as abruptly as it had begun…
The memory ended.
Samael slowly opened his eyes.
It was still night.
The recovered memory was still fresh—far too heavy.
He tried to move his left arm.
Nothing.
The void confirmed the obvious.
It was gone for good.
He rose with effort and looked around. He was still on the same hill. The colossal body of the serpent lay nearby, motionless. Close to it, two glowing spheres rested upon the snow.
His left shoulder was wrapped in unfamiliar fabric.
Elizabeth.
— Awake? her voice came from behind him.
When Samael turned, he noticed the tears in her clothes. Fresh wounds marked her body—signs that she had been attacked while he was unconscious.
— If the serpent hadn't had affinity with ice, you would be dead, Elizabeth said. — The cold in its mouth cauterized the wound. That's the only reason you're still alive.
She had gone through hell.
— …Thank you, Samael replied.
Silence followed.
— But you're still not safe, she added. — If you don't get proper treatment soon, you'll die in a few days.
— Understood.
Elizabeth watched him for a few seconds.
— You're acting strange.
He was.Quieter.Hollower.
— I recovered some memories, he replied, not elaborating.
After a pause, he added:
— I got an Echo from that serpent.
Elizabeth's eyes widened.
— Really? Then you were extremely lucky.
Samael remained silent for a while before asking:
— What are these soul fragments?
— Your share of the serpent, she answered. — I already took mine. I don't want to increase my debt.
— Makes sense.
Elizabeth pointed at the creature's corpse.
— Can you make armor?
— Never tried… but I think I can.
He didn't overthink it.His survival instinct suppressed everything trying to surface—doubts, identity, purpose, the hollow left by the memory.
— Then make it from that, she ordered.
— I will.
Samael began absorbing the Fallen-rank soul fragments.
[Soul Core: 66]
The fragments flowed into him.
Then he approached the serpent's body and tried to pry loose some scales—a difficult task with only one arm.
Elizabeth extended her hand.
— The sword.
Samael handed it over.
She began cutting away the scales in silence.
Meanwhile, Samael turned his attention to the newly obtained Echo.
[Echo Name: Albino Serpent of the Far North][Rank: Ascended][Class: Devil]
Attributes:[Tenacious][Ambient Cold][Cold Resistance][Endurance][Predator]
Description:Born from the remains of a fallen world.