Primarchs were once regarded as the closest beings to perfection the world had ever produced.
Time barely touched them. Disease could not weaken them. Their bodies adapted endlessly against poison, corruption, and injury. They stood above dragons, demons, and mortals alike as creatures shaped by ancient instincts older than recorded civilization itself.
Because of this, the Primarchs possessed very few weaknesses.
Only one was ever truly acknowledged.
Love.
When a Primarch accepted another as their chosen mate, the bond formed between them was not simple affection, desire, or companionship. It was something far deeper and far more dangerous. The soul itself reorganized around the chosen individual until instinct began prioritizing that person above survival, logic, pride, and even reason itself.
The bond was absolute.
To ordinary beings, such devotion would have sounded romantic.
To the Primarchs,
it was terrifying.
The ancient Primarch clans originally allowed mating bonds only among their own kind. Only another Primarch possessed the emotional endurance, lifespan, instincts, and power necessary to survive such overwhelming attachment without destroying both individuals involved.
Yet eventually, some Primarchs chose differently.
They fell in love with mortals.
With demons.
With dragons.
With beings whose lives burned far shorter and far more fragile than theirs.
And that decision slowly led the race toward extinction.
Some Primarchs abandoned entire kingdoms after losing their chosen mates. Others willingly followed dying lovers into death despite possessing immortal lifespans themselves. Some descended into madness long before grief could fully consume them.
The race did not perish through war.
It perished through attachment.
Over time, the Primarchs discovered one final method capable of severing a completed mating bond before grief destroyed the survivor completely.
The bonded mate had to die by the Primarch's own hands.
Only then would the soul connection collapse entirely.
It was considered cruel.
Necessary.
Merciful.
And almost impossible to accomplish.
Very few Primarchs successfully severed a bond this way because their instincts resisted violently against harming the person they loved. Their bodies hesitated. Their souls recoiled. Some abandoned the attempt midway. Others chose to kill themselves instead.
In the end, the Primarchs discovered a truth more humiliating than death itself:
A perfect being could survive almost anything,
except the person they loved.
That was what made Isaac's actions unforgivable.
Isaac corrupted that sacred bond.
He altered it, carving additional demonic pathways into the mating mark itself until separation from him became unbearable to her instincts. The altered bond did not control her mind. That was what made it far crueler. Cyrinne remained completely aware of her humiliation while her body, emotions, and instincts betrayed her relentlessly.
Distance heightened longing into physical pain.
Absence transformed desire into desperation.
Emotional separation became suffering.
What he created was no longer a sacred Primarch bond.
It was possession wearing the face of devotion.
And perhaps the most tragic part of all,
was that the feelings themselves remained real.
Isaac had not created Cyrinne's love artificially.
He had merely weaponized it.
The forest trembled.
Not from monsters.
Not from magic.
From grief.
Cyrinne knelt against Isaac's leg while her entire body shook violently beneath the moonlight. Her silver hair clung messily across her tear-streaked face as she desperately held onto him like someone drowning.
The villagers stood frozen.
Nobody moved.
Nobody spoke.
Even the monsters hidden within the trees had gone silent.
Jemina stared at her friend in horror.
Because this was wrong.
Terribly wrong.
Cyrinne was a Primarch.
A creature older than kingdoms.
A being powerful enough to shatter mountains.
Yet now,
she looked helpless.
Isaac gently stroked her hair while gazing down at her with unbearable tenderness.
"There now," he murmured softly. "You suffered enough."
Jemina felt something ugly twist inside her chest.
Not jealousy.
Not anger.
Something worse.
The realization that Cyrinne was suffering while fully aware of it.
That was the cruelest part.
The bond did not erase her thoughts.
It did not control her mind.
Cyrinne knew exactly what was happening to her,
and still could not stop it.
"You…" Jemina's voice trembled violently. "You are disgusting."
Isaac finally looked toward her.
His expression remained calm.
"I warned her long ago what separation would do."
"Don't you dare justify your actions. I don't have any idea what exactly was going on with the two of you, but I am not blind. I can see that you did something you shouldn't have!"
The Demon King smiled faintly.
"This is simply how our love is. Chains on our necks that will only tighten the more we try to get away from each other. I have not done it all on my own. It is only possible because Cyrinne truly loves me."
Jemina's fists clenched.
Cyrinne still loves him.
That was the tragedy.
Not false feelings.
Not manipulation alone.
Real love twisted into something unbearable.
Around them, the villagers shifted uneasily.
Rosaline looked horrified.
Ayine quietly held the younger lamias behind her.
Lucas slowly reached for his weapon.
And the moment Isaac noticed,
Cyrinne reacted instantly.
A low growl escaped her throat.
Not toward Isaac.
Toward Lucas.
The mercenary froze immediately.
Cyrinne herself looked horrified afterward.
As though she had only just realized what she had done.
"I…" Her voice broke weakly. "I did not…"
Isaac's hand settled gently atop her head.
"Your instincts are merely protecting your mate."
Jemina saw it then.
The panic.
The shame.
The fear in Cyrinne's eyes.
She hated this.
Hated herself for it.
But her body still moved for him.
Jemina suddenly stepped backward.
Then pointed furiously toward the sky.
"WHERE IS THE GODDESS WHEN YOU ACTUALLY NEED HER?!"
Silence.
Nothing answered.
Jemina threw both arms upward dramatically.
"OH, SO NOW YOU'RE QUIET?! Wonderful! Excellent timing!"
Still nothing.
"USELESS DIVINE MANAGEMENT!"
Lucas stared.
"…Are you arguing with the heavens?"
"YES!"
"Does it really have to be now?"
Jemina pointed accusingly upward again.
"You sent me into this forest with emotional problems and monsters! The least you could do is give helpful guidance occasionally!"
The night wind blew gently.
That was all.
Jemina lowered her arm slowly.
"…Unbelievable."
Then,
her expression changed.
Slightly.
Thoughtful.
Because suddenly,
she remembered.
Back then, when she first met Cyrinne,
her instincts warned her not to force anything.
Not to tame her.
Not to control her.
Only to approach gently.
To gain trust first.
And now,
those same instincts stirred again.
Not toward domination.
Toward connection.
Toward reaching her.
Jemina slowly looked at Cyrinne.
The trembling Primarch was desperately clinging to the man hurting her.
And realized something important.
Cyrinne was still fighting.
Even now.
Somewhere inside all that pain,
she was resisting.
Jemina inhaled sharply.
Then turned immediately.
"Raisa."
"Petrify?
"Yes, with the other lamias."
The lamias froze in shock.
Isaac's eyes sharpened instantly.
Raisa focused her eyes on Cyrinne.
"Against a Primarch… it may only last a few seconds."
"That's enough."
Isaac's expression darkened.
The Primarch immediately tightened her hold around him instinctively.
Jemina saw the movement.
Saw the panic flooding through Cyrinne again.
And it hurt.
It genuinely hurt.
Because Cyrinne looked less like a monster
and more like someone drowning while begging not to be abandoned.
"Do it," Jemina ordered quietly.
Everything exploded into motion.
The lamias attacked first.
Their eyes glowed simultaneously as petrification spread toward Cyrinne like silver mist.
Cyrinne reacted instantly.
A deafening howl tore through the forest.
Her body partially transformed as primordial instincts surged violently against the threat.
But the hesitation,
that single moment of hesitation,
was enough.
Stone spread briefly across her arms.
Her legs.
Her torso.
Not complete petrification.
Only partial.
But enough to interrupt her movements.
And instantly,
the elder mudwolf erupted from underground.
Massive jaws clamped around Isaac before dragging him violently backward.
The Demon King slammed his sword into the earth to stop himself.
The ground shattered.
"You dare—"
Fear crossed his face.
Real fear.
Not for himself.
For Cyrinne.
Because instinct screamed at him now.
Something was wrong.
Something was interfering.
Isaac truly panicked.
He tore free from the mudwolf with monstrous strength.
Only for Lucas to appear directly in his path.
The young mercenary trembled visibly.
He knew perfectly well he could die.
Still,
he raised his weapon anyway.
"You are not going near her."
Isaac stared at him coldly.
"You are very brave for someone so weak."
"Yeah," Lucas muttered nervously. "People keep telling me that."
Then Isaac moved.
Fast.
Too fast.
Lucas barely blocked the first strike before being thrown backward across the dirt.
The impact cracked the ground beneath him.
Meanwhile,
Jemina knelt before Cyrinne.
The Primarch trembled violently while half-frozen tears streamed down her face.
Her instincts were fighting everything.
The petrification.
The separation.
The altered bond.
And underneath it all,
Jemina could feel something else.
Threads.
Countless invisible emotional threads trembling chaotically around Cyrinne's soul.
Most rejected her immediately.
Violently.
The rejection slammed painfully against Jemina's chest.
But she continued reaching.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Until finally,
one thread answered.
Tiny.
Fragile.
But willing.
Jemina gasped softly.
There you are.
The connection formed instantly.
Weak.
Incomplete.
But real.
And through it,
Jemina felt Cyrinne's agony.
The longing.
The panic.
The desperate instinct screaming to return to Isaac.
It nearly overwhelmed her.
Still,
Jemina held on.
Then gently
carefully,
she gave a single command.
Suppress it.
Not destroy.
Not sever.
Only suppress.
For one moment,
choose yourself first.
The thread pulsed.
Cyrinne suddenly froze.
Her breathing became ragged.
Then slowly,
very slowly,
clarity returned to her silver eyes.
The change was small.
Tiny.
But enough.
Isaac felt it immediately.
His expression darkened with genuine fury.
"What did you do?"
The entire forest answered him.
Monsters emerged from every direction.
Mudwolves.
Serpents.
Winged creatures.
Massive beasts moving through the trees in endless numbers.
All of them bear a flower mark on their bodies.
A parade.
An absurdly enormous parade.
Every familiar Jemina had gathered throughout the forest now surrounded the Demon King completely.
Jemina stood protectively before Cyrinne.
Exhaustion trembled through her body.
But her eyes remained sharp.
"You need to leave."
Isaac looked past her toward Cyrinne.
For one terrible moment,
the Primarch looked conflicted.
Not consumed.
Not broken.
Conflicted.
And that alone terrified him more than anything.
"You think this changes something?" he asked quietly.
"No," Jemina admitted honestly. "But now she can breathe."
The monsters closed in.
One step at a time.
Isaac stared at Cyrinne for several long seconds.
Then finally,
he smiled faintly.
Not pleasantly.
Not kindly.
But knowingly.
"You cannot protect her forever."
Jemina crossed her arms.
"Maybe not."
Then she grinned brightly.
"But next time you visit, I'll prepare an even bigger parade."