Luise froze at the knight’s words.

“I shouldn’t be saying this to a heretic… so I’ll say it only here, while it’s just us.”

Hedrick scratched his cheek awkwardly, while Carlisle remained silent.

“Thanks to you, we lived.”

As Hedrick bowed his head, Carlisle quietly did the same beside him. The proud heads of the knights bent toward her in silence.

At that moment, a tear slipped onto the back of Luise’s hand.

“Ah… I…”

Hurriedly, she pressed her sleeve to her eyes, but the tears would not stop. No matter how hard she tried to hold them back, they spilled over, relentless.

She had always doubted.

She had fought so desperately to live, only to feel herself endlessly dragged backward. When every effort crumbled into ruin. When her very existence was denied. When an unwanted fate tore her life apart.

In those moments, she had longed to ask someone: Am I doing well? Do my efforts mean anything? Has my life been worth anything at all?

“Th-thank you… both of you.”

Luise swallowed back her tears and spoke to Hedrick and Carlisle.

In response, Carlisle held out a handkerchief.

“…For everything until now, I’m sorry.”

Through tear-stained eyes, she looked at his face—then let out a small laugh.

He was still clumsy, his face still blunt and sullen. Honestly, she had resented him. But now, it didn’t seem to matter anymore.

It was almost unbelievable.

🌺⟡───⟡🌺 🌺⟡───⟡🌺

He wiped the blood spattering his face with the back of his hand and raised his weary head.

The stench of iron thickened the pitch-black night.

The Valley of the Crouching Wind, in the northeast of Faradel.

Cold winds tore along the cliffs, while strange cries echoed through the gorge.

She had been travelling north along the valley’s precipices for days.

The area had long been infamous as a den of beasts. As a slave, he had been dragged there repeatedly to hunt monsters.

He remembered the stories his brothers used to whisper in terror when they were children.

“Brother, why do we have to clear this place out? The valley beasts almost never invade the villages!”

“Our lord likes this valley. The beasts are dangerous, so…”

“Then aren’t we in danger? Can’t we just take care of the ones that come out of the valley?”

His brothers had always feared this gorge. Shed had felt the same.

A narrow path carved deep into the earth, sheer cliffs rising on either side, with nowhere to escape. Even now, he knew it was the worst terrain imaginable.

To fight beasts that scaled the walls with ease, while they themselves were trapped in a sunken killing ground with no high ground to fall back on—what kind of strategy was that?

As a child, he hadn’t understood. But now he did. The House of Ideana had thrown Lupus slaves into this valley for one reason alone: sport, or perhaps an experiment. Nothing else could explain such a reckless, suicidal tactic.

At least now, he was no longer so weak as to need strategies like theirs.

He dragged a hand across his face, smearing blood faintly over his skin.

Stepping across the piled corpses of beasts strewn along the ravine, he pressed northward. The wet stickiness of blood clung to his boots.

There was only one reason he had come here: to find the lost Desidera Scripture.

“Brother, why does the master always come to this valley?”

He had wondered that for as long as he could remember. Why Felix Ideana would return to this beast-swarmed gorge again and again. Why they were forced to risk their lives every time, carving a path of blood for him.

Back then, Pamen would answer.

“They say there’s a hidden prayer chamber in the valley. The master goes there to pray for the young lady.”

“But why, when there’s a temple?”

“Who knows… the thoughts of those above us are beyond me.”

Shed had given his entire youth to the House of Ideana. That was why his long-honed instincts rang so clear.

For as long as he could remember, Felix Ideana had been greedy—but also a man ruled by fear.

‘Why did Felix drive Dietrich out of Ideana, even though he was useful to the research?’

Upon learning that Dietrich was Lucifer, Shed began to question Felix’s decision. If he truly cared about furthering the experiments, he should have made Dietrich a sworn cleric of Ideana and kept him close.

But he hadn’t.

‘Felix drove him out of Ideana for the first time.’

Dietrich had been reassigned to another territory far too quickly. He had believed it was the temple’s doing—but Shed’s instincts told him otherwise.

The more influence Dietrich gained in the field of black magic research, the more Felix must have felt threatened.

Immortality could have fallen into Dietrich’s grasp first.

They had been partners in study, yet at the same time rivals locked in a race for results. As they delved deeper into black magic, unease must have gnawed at them both.

Whoever reached the secret of immortality first might turn on the other, claiming the power as his own. That fear only grew sharper with time.

And so Felix became increasingly unwilling to share the Desidera Scripture with Dietrich.

—”Felix Ideana is becoming increasingly arrogant. Does he really have the audacity to claim that the scripture is safe and that I must ask permission to see it? Has he forgotten who has carried out the research so far? He is a fool — he doesn’t realize that I have etched every word into my mind.”

What had begun from their shared greed had begun to splinter, piece by piece.

Shed remembered. It was around the time their uneasy alliance started to crack that Felix had insisted on visiting this valley more and more.

And so his instincts—sharp as conviction—had led him here.

The missing latter half of the Desidera Scripture was hidden somewhere within these cliffs.

The only problem was that he had yet to find the prayer chamber Pamen had once spoken of.

Shed tilted his head back, staring upward. Between the jagged walls of the gorge, the stars looked as though they were spilling down from the heavens. The moon that had once hung high had already sunk beyond the cliffs.

Three days had passed.

And now, once again, fierce gleaming eyes appeared above the cliff’s edge, vast shadows spilling down with them.

His body, battered and worn from endless battles against the beasts, felt unbearably heavy. But still—he lifted his sword once more.

‘Luise…’

Two days. That was all the time left to him.

🌺⟡───⟡🌺 🌺⟡───⟡🌺

A great carriage halted before the estate in Faradel.

Its banner, bearing the golden scales clutched in an eagle’s talons, snapped in the dawn light.

Luise swallowed hard, anxiety drying her throat.

Before the coachman could even climb down, the door burst open and a man descended.

He was not dressed with the flamboyance of a young count, nor did he affect the rough simplicity of Egon.

“Lea!”

He called her by that other name and hurried toward her, his steps precious, urgent.

His light brown hair was disheveled, losing its usual neatness.

“My lord…”

Luise had only just begun to curtsy when Eclace pulled her into a fierce embrace.

Her eyes widened; she froze in shock.

“Do you have any idea… how much I feared for you?”

His voice broke with emotion.

Luise bit her lip, pushed him away, and took a step back to create distance between them. She could not meet his gaze.

Giselle had reasoned that, since Eclace was ‘the father’, it would be best to entrust Eve to him.

But Luise — she could not be certain.

After all, he was not Eve’s real father, and the term of the oath he had signed years ago was coming to an end. He no longer had any obligation to care for her. She was not his daughter, but the child of another man. Moreover, she was a child tainted with black magic. Who would willingly take her in?

“My lord, I…”

“You don’t need to explain. I already know everything.”

Eclace’s smile was tinged with bitterness. He had his birds—ears sharp as any spy—and Giselle’s letter as well. They had told him everything more precisely, more objectively, than Luise ever could.

Luise clenched her fists at his calm response.

“Aren’t you angry? Don’t you find me detestable…?”

The cold, early-morning air pressed tightly against her chest as she breathed. In truth, she had committed grave fraud against him. When she signed that contract, she concealed the most damning secret of all. A seasoned merchant like him could easily have demanded restitution, citing fraud and lost investment.

Yet he approached her without hesitation.

“Why should I be angry? Why should I hate you?”

He asked instead, and the question struck her like reproach. Was she truly that unworthy of trust? He had thought he’d done his best.

The faint trace of hurt in his voice made her eyes waver.

“I came here to stop you.”

“Stop me…?”

“Don’t follow Giselle. Give it up.”

Eclace held her fast with a gaze of stubborn resolve.

The kindness in his eyes burned hot against her chest.

‘So… there are still people who care for me. Even if I’m gone, Eve will not be left alone.’

Luise let a hazy smile touch her lips as the pale light of dawn washed over them.

“Thank you.”

Truly.

Her calm, steady voice only deepened the furrow in Eclace’s brow.

“…Have you really made your decision?”

Inside her words of gratitude lay a farewell, plain as day.

Luise smiled brightly as she nodded, as if to say, Don’t shake me anymore. I don’t want to talk of this again.

That smile was so clear—and so cold—that it froze the words in his mouth.

“And Eve… please look after her, even if I’m not here.”

“…How selfish of you.”

Luise remained silent in response to his reprimand.

She had nothing more to say. Although she was sorry, she was willing to be shameless for Eve’s sake as she stood on the brink of farewell. Her pride and dignity meant nothing compared to her child.

If Eclace were to explain why Luise’s name had become synonymous with the word ‘demon’, it would be because of her mercilessness.

Out of habit, he slipped his hand into his pocket and closed it around a gold coin. The lukewarm metal surface of the coin turned slowly under his fingers.

“In the end, I can’t force you to choose otherwise, can I.”

He spoke in a resigned tone, accepting her decision. A gentle smile spread across Luise’s face. One by one, things were falling into place.

But an unsettling ease began to spread in the crimson eyes fixed on her.

“Very well. Do as you wish, Lea.”

His lips curved into a faint, sly smile. Luise had never seen a smile that unsettled her so deeply.

“My lord…”

“But I suppose I’ll have to be a little selfish, too.”

The clear morning air carried the brightness of his smiling eyes.

“As you know, I’m not the sort of man who can stand to lose.”

Luise could not for the life of her guess what he was thinking.