Five Hours Earlier
"What the hell…?"
Lady Aria paced the room, her breath uneven.
The assassins had failed.
Again.
Not a single noble was dead. Not even a servant.
How?
Her nails dug into her arms as she scratched at her skin, again and again, as though something crawled beneath it.
Why did they come back?
Why couldn't they kill anyone?
Why did I kneel?
The memory burned hotter than fire.
Her knees on the cold floor.
Her head bowed.
Her voice trembling as she begged for forgiveness—for daring to raise her hand against the wrong one.
Shame coiled around her heart, tightening until it hurt to breathe.
"I can't take this anymore," she whispered. "This disgrace… this pain…"
Her scratching turned frantic.
"I have to do it. I have to."
A knock echoed through the chamber.
Lady Aria froze.
Another knock.
She staggered to the door, her cloak barely hiding her trembling hands. When she opened it, a tall man stood there—wrapped in a pure black cloak, a staff resting casually in his grip.
"I heard the call," the Dark Sorcerer said calmly. "And I see it clearly now."
His eyes lingered on her.
"The itching. The sleeplessness. The hatred eating you alive."
A faint smile curved his lips. "These are the signs. When pride is shattered… something always answers."
"Enough," Lady Aria snapped. "Come in."
He entered without hesitation.
"Tell me," he said softly. "What do you desire?"
She turned, eyes bloodshot.
"I want them dead," she said. "Every noble who was present at that ceremony. Every single one."
The sorcerer nodded, unsurprised.
"There are many ways," he said. "Assassins. Poison. Time."
"No," she hissed. "I want them erased."
His smile widened.
"Then there is another way. Faster. But… toxic."
"I don't care."
"There are demons already watching you," he said, stepping closer. "Drawn by the hatred rotting inside your heart. You are not the first noble to become this… ripe."
"Demons?" she recoiled. "They're dangerous—even to someone like me."
"You said you would do anything."
He paused.
"And yesterday—when you bent your head and apologized before Duke Will—word will spread. Nobles. Commoners. All of them."
Her hands clenched.
"The Honorable Lady Aria," he continued smoothly, "humiliated."
Her breathing turned ragged.
"…If I form a path with a demon," she said slowly, "will they die?"
"Yes," the sorcerer replied. "All of them. Hunted. Killed. Eaten."
"And the consequences?"
He hesitated.
"Those come after the pact is sealed."
She stared at him.
"You should also know," he added, "I already walk such a path. Half this body is mine. The other half belongs to a demon."
Silence swallowed the room.
"…Fine," Lady Aria said. "Do it."
The sorcerer knelt and carved a circle into the stone floor. Symbols burned into existence as he chanted, purple light flaring from his staff.
"Cut your thumb," he said. "Let your blood fall at the center."
Lady Aria stopped scratching.
She took the knife.
And sliced.
Blood struck the circle.
The markings ignited crimson.
A crushing pressure flooded the chamber, forcing her to her knees as the air screamed.
Something emerged.
A towering figure stepped from the circle—black armor, a single horn rising from its helm. The room bent around its presence.
Valzaha.
Lady Aria lifted her head and smiled.
"So you're the one," she said. "Beautiful. Now go. Kill them."
Valzaha laughed.
"Insolent human."
His hand closed around her throat, lifting her effortlessly from the ground.
"L–let go—!" she choked. "You're not supposed to—!"
The sorcerer stepped forward, unfazed.
"As warned," he said calmly. "The one who forms the path forfeits their life. The command, however, will be fulfilled."
Lady Aria's eyes widened in terror.
"No—!"
Valzaha crushed her throat.
Seven lesser demons spilled from the circle, swarming her lifeless body, tearing into flesh with ravenous hunger.
Valzaha turned to the sorcerer.
The sorcerer bowed deeply.
"Go," Valzaha commanded coldly. "Hunt the nobles. Kill them all."
The lesser demons bowed in unison.
"Yes."
A vortex swallowed them.
They vanished.
The room fell silent.