The force struck like a blow. Leesa staggered backwards, gasping, clutching her head. Her knights rushed forward, steadying her before she could fall.
Greg pressed his palm to the stone, his magic flaring to shield her, but the moment he did, his eyes widened. "This mana… this isn't normal magic," he breathed. "It's enchantment magic... and a corrupted one at that, too. Someone tampered with the natural laws of binding."
Leesa, pale but recovering, drew herself up. "Enchantment," she murmured, voice steady despite the lingering tremor, "...a sorcery meant for the domination of one's will?"
"Yes, Commander," replied Greig, bowing his head. "Yet what lies within that stone is no mere charm to be broken once the caster falters. The power here has been anchored, stored within the very heart of the crystal. It is vast, and worse still, tainted. Corrupted enchantments such as these stray far beyond sanctioned art. Expected enchantment binds only the minds of the living, and even then, only when they are weakened and vulnerable. But this…" He paused, his jaw tightening. "Whoever created this wasn't a simple mage. They've mixed alchemy, blood runes, and forbidden charm magic. A distortion of all three."
Leesa lifted a hand over her temple, her complexion pale as moonlight. "And how long will it take to destroy the stone?"
Greig's expression grew grave. "That I cannot say, Commander. I must haste to the Tower and lay this before the tower master. Whoever forged such a thing was no common sorcerer. And because I was forced to draw deeply upon my power to sever its hold upon your mind, you will not recover your strength swiftly."
They began their slow march back through the shadowed woods, their boots sinking into the moss and fallen leaves. Fatigue weighed heavily upon the air. After a quiet span, Leesa spoke again, her voice low from exhaustion. "Can you trace where it came from?"
Greig hesitated, uncertainty flickering across his features. "In time... perhaps. Yet doing so shall demand great strength… and no small measure of caution."
Leesa's fingers tightened around the hilt at her side, her knuckles white. "Then pursue it. Whatever this enchantment seeks, it is no simple bondage of flesh.
Greig studied her for a moment, puzzled. "If not enslavement, then for what purpose could such wickedness serve?"
She did not answer at once. Her gaze drifted back toward the distant clearing, where the stone's faint violet glow still haunted the memory of the night. The purple veins pulsed once, as if mocking her.
"I shall not speak before I am certain," she whispered, the words edged with dread and steel alike.
The forest fell silent again, but now every rustle of wind sounded like the whisper of a threat.
In the high stone tower, once Jeremy heard what had transpired within the forest, he hastened down the corridor with scarcely a breath, vanishing into his study in search of whatever records might shed light upon the matter. Thus, Greig and Leesa were left waiting in the guest chamber, its hearth burning low, the quiet finally granting Leesa the moment she needed to confront him about his peculiar ambitions.
"Tell me," Leesa began, folding her hands upon her lap with careful composure, "have you at last abandoned that absurd yearning of yours to rise as a Demon Lord? Or have you simply resigned yourself to a quieter life?"
Greig nearly choked on his tea. "Abandoned? Resigned? You speak nonsense, Commander. I have fashioned a masterful design, one so cunning that no soul in Hell nor Heaven shall foresee it. Just wait. Soon enough, my record of sins shall eclipse even yours, and God will have no choice but to grant me the title."
Leesa raised a brow. "And how do you intend to… accumulate these sins of yours?"
He leaned forward with a wicked glimmer in his eyes. "Ah, so now you are showing interest. Very well, allow me to enlighten you. Tell me, what do you suppose is the gravest crime one may commit?"
"To take a life," Leesa answered without hesitation.
Greig clicked his tongue in exasperation. "Wrong, as expected. To think they named someone like you as heir to Hell's throne… though it matters little, for soon the position shall pass from your hands to mine. Listen closely, the gravest sin is not death, but fear. To kill a man is simple. But to keep him alive while lodging terror so deep that he dreads each sunrise... that is a crime worthy of legends."
He leaned back smugly. "But that is all you shall hear. I am not simple enough to divulge every detail of my grand design to my greatest rival."
Leesa nodded slowly. "Ah… I see. Then I wish you all the best with this scheme of yours."
"Naturally. Now, if you will excuse me, unlike some people, I am a man burdened with important duties."
"Indeed… quite busy, I'm sure," Leesa replied with a smile far too sweet to be sincere.
Greig, recognising the mockery, let out a frustrated huff and shoved the door shut behind him with an unnecessary thud. The silence that followed was broken moments later as the door opened again, this time revealing Rosa Dreyer, the tower master's assistant.
Rosa stepped inside with her characteristic grace. Known throughout the tower for her healing talents and her uncanny ability to untangle any dilemma, she carried an air of calm that eased even the most restless spirits. Her soft chocolate-brown hair framed her face like silk, and her pale grey eyes, cool, thoughtful, and steady, held a quiet depth that many found themselves lost in. Even the Tower Master, stern as he was, could not help but show a gentler demeanour in her presence.
"Commander Leesa," Rosa began softly, bowing with gentle propriety, "your strength should have returned by now. Pray, tell me, do you feel any discomfort remaining?"
Leesa smiled. "None at all, thanks to your care, Lady Rosa."