Elliot lay in the field after training, his body drenched in sweat, breath heavy, yet a wide smile stretched across his face. Ecstasy coursed through him.
"Lilith, how much time until we leave again?" Elliot asked.
"We have exactly three weeks. At the rate you're moving, you'll be ready in two," Lilith praised.
"Guess it'll be smooth sailing until Tarth," Elliot said, gazing up at the sky.
Seven hundred meters away, hidden among the trees, Lenen watched.
It's now or never, he thought, pressing his hands together as veins bulged across his forehead.
"Absolute Mind Intrusion," Lenen whispered, collapsing to the ground. At that moment, Elliot lost consciousness.
Elliot awoke in the familiar white void. Before him stood Lilith, calm yet intrigued.
"That's odd. Someone's trapped us inside your mind," she said evenly.
"Trapped? As in neither of us can leave?" Elliot asked.
"Yes. It's a strong power… but," Lilith's eyes scanned the void. She pointed, smiling.
"You're inexperienced," she said, firing a blast of magic. It struck an invisible wall, sending Lenen flying.
"Is that him?" Elliot asked eagerly.
"Yes. Talented, but inexperienced. He invaded using his own mind, which puts him at risk. He's searching your memories now. I'll slow him down. You, Elliot—beat the hell out of him."
"That I understand," Elliot grinned, clenching his fists. Lenen rose, staring him down.
Just hold out until you find the information. You've got this, Lenen told himself, charging forward.
"I think I'm going to enjoy this!" Elliot shouted, rushing to meet him.
As they closed the distance, Elliot wound back a right hook. At the last moment, his fist struck an unseen barrier, deflecting his punch. Lenen countered with three quick jabs to Elliot's face. Blood streamed from Elliot's nose as he stumbled back.
"Well, fuck," Elliot muttered, wiping the blood away.
"Let's make this fun." His right hand morphed into a serrated metal rod. He swung wildly, forcing Lenen to dodge and block with barriers. Lenen found an opening and threw a punch at Elliot's stomach—only for a grotesque mouth to sprout from Elliot's abdomen, biting off Lenen's forearm.
Shit! Lenen thought, leaping back. Elliot smiled, his other hand transforming into a whip-like blade.
"Come on, let's keep going," Elliot grinned. Lenen's face twisted in fury, his incisors lengthening, nails sharpening. He dropped to all fours and charged.
Elliot lashed his whip, but Lenen vaulted over it, bringing down an axe kick. Elliot countered, slicing Lenen's leg off at the knee. Lenen landed on one arm, regenerated his hand, and pressed it to Elliot's chest, repelling him with a shockwave.
Elliot flew back. Lilith watched, amused.
"You are impressive, demon," she said.
"Such an honor, praised by the former Demon Queen," Lenen replied.
"Former?" Lilith raised a brow.
"Yes. Absolute power now lies with the Seven Princes. Once they learn your next move—thanks to my information—they'll stop you dead."
Elliot charged, but Lilith's voice cut through. "Stop." He obeyed instantly.
"What is your name, demon?" she asked.
"I am Lenen. No clan, no second name," he said firmly.
"Lenen… the half-demon traitor who died saving humans," Lilith retorted.
"Traitor to you. Hero to others," Lenen answered. Lilith laughed.
"In three weeks, tell those bastards to be in Tarth. I'll be there with my vessel to kill them for their transgressions. Now leave, demon." She turned away.
Lenen released the spell and awoke. Shit. I've got to get out of here, he thought, fleeing.
Elliot jolted awake, scanning frantically for the demon. He locked onto Lenen's magic signature, but Lilith stopped him.
"Leave him be, Elliot."
"Why? Aren't we going to Tarth?" Elliot asked, confused.
"We are. And in Tarth, we will bury my past," Lilith replied.
Panting heavily, Raymond stumbled into town with Jeremiah slung over his shoulder. Both boys' clothes were soaked in blood. The townsfolk froze, horrified.
"Too much blood… he's lost—" Raymond muttered before collapsing. Men rushed forward to help.
Hours later, Raymond opened his eyes in the infirmary.
Damn it. My head feels like it's splitting. My ribs are wrecked. I can barely move, he thought, struggling to lift his head.
"Don't," a soft voice said. He turned to see Jane, beautiful yet cold.
"You're lucky to be breathing. I just spent an hour repairing the damage your ribs caused to your lungs. Jeremiah will live—the finest medics are treating him now. I stabilized him when you arrived," she said sharply.
Her voice hardened. "I hate you. While treating you, I wanted to slit your throat. Revive you, then watch you suffocate on your own blood. You high lords and priests treat low-borns like me and Jeremiah as expendable. That's why I had to mend his broken hands, wrists, ribs—everything I could."
Her voice broke, tears spilling. "So how dare you bring him back with a hole in his stomach, his insides in the hands of men who carried him here. How dare you."
Raymond's face twisted with guilt. Jane slid down the wall, sobbing. Her cries carried a grief that felt incurable.
"I'm sorry. Please don't cry. I'll make it right," Raymond whispered, barely able to speak.
"How could you?" Jane asked, looking up. Her eyes widened in shock—Raymond had sat up, leaning toward her, hand extended.
"Please… allow me to make this right," Raymond said, his resolve firm.