I went to see Zale the next night. The deadline was drawing closer, and the pressure to leave for Sestia weighed heavily on my mind. There wasn’t much ti left, but this eting couldn’t be avoided.
The soft glow of moonlight stread through the open doors of his window. Zale stood inside, an air of casual confidence about him as if he had all the ti in the world. His lips curled into a sly smile when he saw .
"Welco," he greeted, his voice smooth. "You’ve arrived just in ti. I—"
"I still don’t trust you," I cut him off sharply, my tone cold and firm.
Zale blinked, montarily taken aback, but the smirk quickly returned. He gestured lazily toward a table, pouring wine into a crystal glass with practiced ease.
"Didn’t I undo the curse on the Pope?" he asked, raising the glass to his lips as though my distrust amused him.
I t his gaze unflinchingly. "He’s useless to you now. What you need is . So even if he dies, you have nothing to lose."
Zale laughed at that—a low, mocking chuckle that resonated through the quiet room. He swirled the wine in his glass, leaning casually against the table.
"You’re right," he admitted, his tone laced with amusent. "He was worth sothing until he brought that Lesser Dragon into the Temple."
His words sparked a mory, and I seized the opportunity. "That reminds ," I said, watching as he took another slow sip of wine.
"Hmm?" He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued.
"What was that recipe you gave him?" I asked, my tone casual, though my eyes remained sharp.
Zale’s smile widened, his expression almost proud. He nodded, setting the glass down with a deliberate motion. "Ah, that one. It was simply a vitality drug. I told him that if he added Dragon’s blood to the potion, after a couple of months, he’d beco immortal."
"And what would it really do?" I pressed, narrowing my eyes.
He chuckled, his laughter dark and ominous. "Oh, nothing quite so miraculous. It’s impossible for a human to beco immortal unless they are..."
He trailed off, his red eyes glowing faintly as he looked over, his gaze lingering in a way that made my skin crawl.
"I’m not immortal," I said firmly, my voice steady and cold.
"Only for the ti being," he replied smoothly, his smirk widening.
I narrowed my eyes, suppressing the urge to lash out as he downed the rest of his wine in a single gulp. Then, with deliberate slowness, he fixed with a calculating smile.
"So," he began, his tone light and almost mocking, "what else do you want to do to have you? Surely, you don’t expect to undo the curse on that Lesser Dragon first, do you?"
"I want to see you undo the curse on the child with my own eyes before you take over my body," I said, my voice unwavering.
His smirk faltered for a fraction of a second before returning, sharper than before. "You think I’ll agree to your terms?"
"You’ll have to," I replied, my tone leaving no room for argunt.
"And if I don’t?" His voice dipped lower, the challenge clear in his tone.
"Or what?" he added, his eyes narrowing as he stepped closer, the faintest hint of malice emanating from him.
I tilted my head slightly, activating my Dragon’s Presence at full scale. The air in the room thickened instantly, an oppressive force pressing down on everything. Zale dropped to his knees with a strangled gasp, his hands clutching at his chest as he wheezed. His crimson eyes turned watery from the strain, glaring up at with a mixture of fury and helplessness.
"You think I couldn’t do anything about you?" I asked, my voice calm but laced with steel. "You only know I’m a Dragon, but you don’t know everything."
He gritted his teeth, his jaw tightening as black mist began to seep from his body, swirling around him like a protective shroud.
"The Master..." he gasped, his voice strained. "Of a town... secret society... Information and assassination guilds..."
"Only that much?" I asked dryly, my tone dripping with disdain.
He scowled, the tendons in his neck straining as he fought against the weight of my presence. I could see it—his current host’s body wasn’t strong enough to withstand this level of pressure for long. It was starting to falter. Satisfied, I withdrew my Presence, letting the oppressive atmosphere lift.
The mont the weight disappeared, he inhaled deeply, his chest heaving as he struggled to regain his composure. Sweat glistened on his brow as he looked up at , his expression a mix of frustration and newfound caution.
"Don’t bla ," I said lightly, folding my arms across my chest. "I’m not used to being looked down on—especially not by a demon."
"You’ll regret this," he sneered, his voice low and venomous.
"Try ," I shot back, my tone sharp. "I’m agreeing to your terms, so you will have to agree to mine as well."
I felt a subtle tug at my chest, faint but unmistakable. His spell was at work, the dark tendrils of it snaking outward, seeking their target. I didn’t flinch. I knew exactly what he was attempting—to harm the child. But our connection was solid; as long as it held, the child would remain safe.
Zale’s sharp eyes studied as he stood slowly, his earlier smirk replaced with a cold, serious expression. His deanor shifted, as if he realized I wasn’t soone he could toy with so easily.
"Tomorrow night, co to this place," I said, handing him a piece of parchnt. Then I tossed a few more sheets onto the table in front of him. "And read these. They’re the terms and conditions for handing over my body."
He raised an eyebrow, picking up the papers with a faint look of amusent. His lips twitched as he scanned them briefly. "A magic contract?" he asked, his tone incredulous.
"I told you," I said simply, "I don’t trust you. Sign these after you’ve read them thoroughly, and bring them with you tomorrow."
I turned toward the window, preparing to leave, but his voice stopped .
"And what if I disagree with it?" he asked, a subtle challenge in his tone.
I glanced back over my shoulder, my gaze locking with his. His eyes narrowed slightly, searching mine for weakness.
"Then," I said, my voice dropping to an icy calm, "I’d be forced to do sothing that won’t end well—for you. And you won’t be here to see it."
The weight of my words hung heavy in the air, enough to freeze even the fires of hell. His jaw tightened, but he didn’t reply. I turned back to the window and stepped out into the night, leaving him to stew in silence.
I returned to the inn, my steps heavy with the weight of the night’s events. The faint glow of an oil lamp filtered through the gap under the door to the child’s room. Pushing it open, I found him seated cross-legged on the bed, a book in his hands, its worn pages illuminated by the lamp’s flickering fla.
He perked up as soon as I entered, setting the book aside with careful precision before turning his full attention to . His bright, curious eyes searched mine, and for a mont, I hesitated, the enormity of what I was about to promise weighing on my chest.
I crossed the room and knelt by his bedside, my gaze steady as I studied him. The faint shadows under his eyes betrayed his weariness, but his spirit—remarkably—remained unbroken. Placing a firm but gentle hand on his small shoulder, I asked, "How are you feeling?"
He tilted his head slightly, confusion flickering across his face before he blinked and responded, "Ah... A while ago, I felt so pain in my chest." His small hand moved instinctively to his heart, fingers brushing over the fabric of his shirt. He looked up at , concern knitting his brows. "Did sothing happen?"
"I’ve arranged for your curse to be removed," I said, my voice steady but soft.
His eyes widened, disbelief and cautious hope blooming in their depths. "What?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.
"Tomorrow night," I assured him, squeezing his shoulder lightly, "you’ll be free of your curse."
He stared at , his expression a mixture of shock and tentative optimism. It was as if he wanted to believe but was too afraid to fully let himself hope.
"I an it," I said, my tone firm. "Whatever happens, I will make sure you’re freed from this."
The child’s lips parted as if to speak, but he closed them again, lowering his gaze to his lap. His small fingers fidgeted with the edge of the blanket, and after a mont, he looked back at . The disbelief in his expression remained, but there was sothing else now—a flicker of trust.
I pulled out the mana stone that I found from the dried Holy Lake.
"Here, keep this with you."
He stared at the stone in my palm before he looked at quizzically.
"What is this?" He asked softly.
"Hold it, you’ll know."
He took the stone and his eyes widened by fractions before he looked at .
"Keep it with you," I said and he nodded before staring at the greenish blue stone.
I had infused it with mana as well to keep its effect to the strongest in tis of ergencies.
I stood and glanced toward the lamp, its soft light casting long shadows across the room. Tomorrow would be the final step. I had a plan to execute, one that wouldn’t just free him but also bring closer to completing the quest that had brought to this cursed place. Failure wasn’t an option, not for him and not for .
"Get so rest," I said, my voice gentler now. "You’ll need your strength for tomorrow."
He nodded silently, his small fra relaxing just a fraction as he lay back against the pillows. I turned toward the door with the plan already in formation in my head about tomorrow.
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