The cold was absolute. Leo sat in the gravel, his chest still tingling from the discharge of Lilithia's mana, his eyes locked on the tiny girl standing before him.
Lilithia reached into the air. She didn't pull from a pocket or a bag; her hand simply vanished into a tear in reality, a jagged rift of violet static that hissed like a snake. When she pulled her hand back, she was holding a small, crystalline vial.
Inside, a liquid shifted. It didn't flow like water; it pulsed. It was the color of a sunset captured in amber, swirling with flecks of gold that looked like dying stars. Even from several feet away, Leo could feel the sheer, overwhelming pressure of the mana within it. It felt like life itself—concentrated, raw, and ancient.
Leo's breath hitched. He felt his heart hammer against his ribs, a frantic, uneven rhythm.
"H-how..." he stammered, his voice cracking. "How did you get that? That's... that's the Harist."
Lilithia tilted her head, dangling the vial between two fingers as if it were a cheap trinket. "This? Oh, I just took it."
Leo stared. "You took it?"
"Ugh, don't remind me!" Lilithia puffed out her cheeks, her face twisting into a look of pure, childish annoyance. "Do you have any idea how big my Dad 'Infinite Library' is? It's huge! And so dusty! I had to crawl through three different dimensional wards and kick a very mean Cerberus just to find the right shelf. And then? The labels were all in Old Abyssal! It took me hours to find this specific bottle. I had to sneak into my father's Infinite Library Room. My dress got covered in dust, and a bunch of stupid shadow-ghouls kept trying to talk to me. It was the worst!"
She stomped her foot, the shadows around her flared in sympathy with her tantrum.
"I even broke a nail! Do you know how long it takes for a Sovereign's nails to grow back? Forever! My Dad is going to be so mad when he notices his private collection is missing a drop, but honestly, he has so many bottles, he probably won't even notice for a century or two."
Leo didn't hear half of her complaining. His mind was spinning, a chaotic vortex of calculation and disbelief. In the game, the Phoenix Divine Harist was a legend mentioned in the margins of forbidden texts. It was the kind of item that emperors would sacrifice entire bloodlines just to see from a distance. It was the ultimate "Undo" button for the laws of the world.
And here it was. In the hands of a bratty demon child who was complaining about dust.
What kind of offer am I supposed to give for this? Leo thought, a cold sweat breaking out on his neck. There isn't a kingdom on this map valuable enough to trade for that. If she wants my soul, it's not enough. If she wants my life, it's a bargain.
He looked at her, his expression tight with worry. He didn't care about his pride anymore.
"What do you actually want, Lilithia?" Leo asked, his voice low and heavy. "Like, really. What is the price?"
Lilithia stopped her twirling. She looked at Leo, her glowing violet eyes widening as if she were surprised he had even asked. Then, her face crumpled. Her lip began to tremble, and her eyes welled up with big, shimmering tears.
"What I want is simple" she wailed, sounding exactly like a child who had been told she couldn't have dessert. "I'm just... I'm so worried! You're going to go to that silly Whispering Wood place, and you're so weak!, You're just a little, fragile human! You're going to get stepped on by a rabbit or trip over a root and die before you even do what I want!"
Leo blinked, his jaw dropping slightly. "Are you... mocking me?"
"I'm REALLY, REALLY worried!" she sobbed dramatically, though no tears actually fell. She pointed a finger at him, her voice turning sharp and mocking. "Since you never actually complete your missions! You lost the potion in the fire. You let the Hero blow up, You're like a professional at failing, aren't you?"
The words hit Leo like a physical blow. The memory of the clinic burning, the vial of the Soul Exception shattering in the heat, the feeling of his own uselessness—it all came rushing back. He felt his throat tighten. She was right. He had failed every time it mattered.
"Hey," Leo said, his voice urgent. He scrambled to his knees, his head bowing low until it almost touched the gravel. "Just give me a chance. I'm not the same person I was back then. I promise. I'll succeed this time. I will do whatever you ask, just... don't take that away. Please."
Lilithia looked down at the top of his head. The mocking, crying act vanished instantly. Her face went blank, her eyes turning into cold, emotionless slits of light. The silence stretched between them, long and suffocating.
"Hmmm," she hummed, tapping the vial against her chin. "I'll consider it."
The relief that washed over Leo was so intense it felt like he had been pulled out of a freezing lake. He didn't think. He didn't calculate. He acted on pure, raw instinct. He lunged forward again, his arms wrapping around the tiny girl in another crushing hug.
"Thank you," he whispered, his eyes squeezed shut. "Thank you, Lili."
"AHH~!"
CRACK-BOOM!
The black-blue lightning didn't just push him this time; it launched him. Leo was a blur of motion as he sailed through the air, slamming into the exact same patch of dirt he had occupied minutes ago. His hair was standing on end, and smoke was curling off his sleeves.
"YOU!" Lilithia shrieked, her face a violent shade of purple-blue. She was vibrating so hard she looked like she was about to explode. "You did it again! You filthy, touchy, bossy human! I am going to peel the skin off your toes! I am going to turn your lungs into a flute and play a very annoying song on them!"
She stomped around him, her shadows lashing out like whips, cracking against the stones. She looked like a cornered animal, her pride shattered by a simple hug.
Leo groaned, rolling onto his side. He spat a bit of dirt out of his mouth and looked at her. "How do I believe you?"
Lilithia froze. "Huh?"
"You still haven't told me what you want," Leo said, pushing himself up to a sitting position. He ignored the stinging burns on his arms. "You're yapping about how weak I am and how much you want to kill me, but you're still here. You're holding the cure for the girl I'd die for. Why? It makes me curious. What do you really want?"
Lilithia stared at him. The rage in her eyes dimmed, replaced by a dark, predatory smirk. She stopped stomping and stood perfectly still, her small frame casting a shadow that seemed to stretch for miles.
"What I want is simple, the one that you and that old man Elian abandon your plans for your young lady."
Leo's heart went cold. "What?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Lilithia stepped closer, her voice a silky whisper. "I want you to go to the Whispering Woods. I want you to kill that Hollow Behemoth and bring me the Soul Exception potion. You get me that, and I give you the Harist. A trade. One miracle for another."
Leo frowned, his mind trying to find the logic. "Why do you need the Soul Exception if you already have the Phoenix Divine Harist? They do the same thing, don't they? They heal."
"Heal?" Lilithia laughed, a sharp, melodic sound that lacked any warmth. "Oh, Leo. You really are a dummy. They aren't the same at all. Think of it like a sword from the Middle Era."
She gestured with her free hand, a shadow forming into the jagged shape of a blade.
"The Phoenix Divine Harist is like a sword forged from the core of a star. It is the raw, absolute material. It can cut through the concept of death because it is 'Life' in its purest form. And there's the Soul Exception. That is the sharpening stone. It is a catalyst of the Spirit world."
She waved the shadow away, her eyes narrowing as the playful light in them dimmed.
"The Harist can bring a body back, but the Sun-blade erases the soul's connection to the world. If I just pour this into your lady, her body will live, but her mind will be a blank slate—a beautiful doll with no heart. The Soul Exception stabilizes the soul's blueprint. It makes the miracle permanent. It makes it real."
Leo felt a cold shiver crawl down his spine. His hand tightened into a fist until his knuckles turned white.
"A blank slate?" Leo's voice was barely a whisper, thick with rising dread. "You're saying that if I use the Harist alone, she won't remember anything? Not the village, not the North... not me?"
He looked toward the manor, the silhouette of the window where Alisa lay dying. The thought of her waking up but looking at him like a total stranger—eyes empty of the affection that had been his only anchor—made his stomach churn.
"If she has no heart and no memory, then what's the point?" Leo snapped, his gaze returning to the demon with a desperate intensity. "I'm not trying to save a walking corpse or a puppet. I want *her* back. All of her."
Lilithia sighed, an exaggerated, dramatic sound of boredom. She began to idly play with a strand of her hair, watching Leo struggle with the logic of his own despair.
"So dramatic! Humans always get so hung up on the 'now,'" she teased, though her smirk held a hint of a secret. "Listen, dummy. The memories aren't *gone-gone*. They're just... scattered. Like ink dropped into an ocean. The Soul Exception is the only thing that can pull that ink back together into a story."
Leo took a step forward, his breath hitched. "So she can remember? You're saying she can regain everything?"
Lilithia stopped her fidgeting and looked him dead in the eye. For a split second, the childish mask slipped, revealing a glimpse of the terrifyingly ancient intelligence that governed her soul.
"Maybe. But the 'how' is a very long, very complicated story. And I'm a very busy Sovereign, I don't give away my best secrets for free."
She dangled the vial of Harist in front of his face, the golden liquid pulsing like a heartbeat.
"Bring me the Soul Exception from the spirit. Give me what I want, and I'll tell you exactly how to weave her heart back together. I'll give you the missing piece of the puzzle. But until then..." she winked, "you'll just have to trust your favorite demon, won't you?"
Leo nodded slowly. It made sense. The Harist provided the power, but the Soul Exception provided the structure. One was the engine; the other was the fuel. And Lilithia held the map.
"Then give me your power," Leo said, his voice straining with a sudden, desperate hope. He looked up at the tiny sovereign, ignoring the way her presence made the very air feel heavy. "If you want me to succeed, give me a drop of your mana. If I have the power of a Sovereign, I can tear that beast apart."
Lilithia's smirk widened, her eyes flashing with a sharp, predatory amusement. "No."
"Why not? You're the one who wants the Soul Exception!"
"Because you're a bigger dummy than I thought," she chirped, though her voice lacked its earlier warmth. "That Behemoth isn't just some monster, Leo. It's a walking tomb. It swallowed an entire village of angel-like spirits—thousands of innocent, pure souls that are still screaming inside its belly. They aren't dead; they're trapped."
She leaned in, her face inches from his, radiating a cold, abyssal chill.
"My power is forged from the literal dregs of the Abyss—hatred, violence, and the kind of darkness that makes stars go cold. If you walk into those woods with even a speck of my mana, those spirits won't see a savior. They'll see another predator coming to finish what the Behemoth started. The 'Wish' only manifests for a soul that carries the weight of pure intent. If I touch you, the Soul Exception won't just fail to drop—it will curdle into poison."
Leo looked down at his hands. They were trembling, the skin marred by the faint, spiderwebbing veins of Entropic Mana.
The Grief-Factor, he thought grimly. The game's hidden pity system. I have to go in there with absolutely nothing left to lose. I have to be so desperate that the 'mercy' of the spirits is the only thing left in the universe.
"...I understand," he whispered.
the weight of the Grief-Factor settling in his gut. With nothing but a sword and my own despair.
Lilithia's expression softened, just for a flickering second, her aura receding like a tide. She looked at the vial of Phoenix blood in her hand, then back at Leo's hollow face.
"I'm not a total monster, you know, maybe I am but a good one!" she said, her voice returning to that light, bell-like chime. "I'll give you a taste. A little deposit for the contract."
Leo's head snapped up. "What?"
"A single drop," she cautioned, wagging a finger. "It won't heal her. The Sun-Blade's 'sin' is too heavy for a drop to wash away. But it will act as a conceptual anchor. It will put her soul into a state of Stasis—waking her up for maybe two days. Forty-eight hours of borrowed time, Enough for her to remember your face again."
She held the vial out toward the Manor, the golden liquid within pulsing like a heartbeat.
"You bring me the Soul Exception, and you get the rest of the bottle. Then your lady gets her heart scrubbed clean and her life back. If you fail, she dissolves, and I keep the Harist. Deal?"
Leo stood up. The exhaustion was still there, but beneath it, a cold, jagged resolve was hardening. He thought of the 0.01% drop rate. He thought of the 'Wish' that only manifested for the truly desperate. If the spirits wanted despair, he had more than enough to give.
"Just give her the drop," Leo said, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous growl. "And let do it quickly..."
Lilithia smiled, a beautiful and terrifying expression that promised nothing but chaos.
"Understood."