Just as she was sinking into that unknown reward, her body suddenly jolted—then the pain in her chest surged up again.
She lowered her head and saw a blade that had run straight through her torso, her eyes filling with disbelief.
When had someone appeared at her side?
The next second, the sword was yanked free. Still carrying that question, the demon priestess toppled stiffly onto the ground.
She didn't even know who had killed her.
"Love playing the snake in the grass? Then taste what it feels like to get ambushed."
Luke flicked the blood from his blade, frowning as he looked over.
Right now, Vayne hadn't even noticed Luke's arrival.
It was like she'd been dragged into another world—noisy voices hammered at her ears, pressing down on the pain, grief, and regret in her heart.
Little by little… she almost couldn't feel sad anymore.
She didn't want that.
But soon, she was about to lose even the ability to not want it.
Her heart was growing colder by the second.
Until—
A clear, crystalline tear landed on Vayne's cheek.
The warmth carried in that single drop instantly woke something deep inside her.
Emotions she'd suppressed for far too long—emotions she'd locked away in the deepest part of her heart, never intending to face again.
In that moment, they surged out like a tidal wave.
They slammed into the clamor in her head—and with crushing force, they swept it aside.
The sorrow and remorse she'd been holding back could no longer be contained.
"No!!!"
Vayne screamed, raw and unwilling, tears spilling from the corners of her eyes.
She snapped back into her world—and the first thing she saw was Frey, barely hanging on.
Vayne's tears burst out like a flood.
Then she saw Luke.
Hope flared in her eyes like she'd spotted the last lifeline in the world. With a weak, shaking hand, she grabbed his pant leg and sobbed out, voice breaking, "Save her… please…"
In that instant, her heart wasn't cold anymore.
She finally saw herself clearly.
In front of Frey, she let go of hatred. Right now, there was only one thought in her mind:
Let Frey live.
She wanted to go back to the way things used to be.
She had never hated Frey—not even after learning Frey had once been the dark mage she despised most.
She was terrified—terrified she'd lose Frey the same way she'd lost her family two years ago.
She just… didn't know how to face it.
It felt like someone was slicing her open with a small knife. Vayne cried until her face was soaked, forcing out what she truly felt, sentence by sentence.
She didn't want to become someone cold and unfeeling.
She cared about Frey—she cared more than anything.
And as she finally spoke the truth, it was like Vayne found herself again. In that moment, she looked far more like a girl her age.
Frey's consciousness was already drifting, but she still heard Vayne's words. A faint smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.
In her eyes—already close to going unfocused—there was relief.
To hear this child's heart… even dying felt worth it.
So Vayne hadn't hated her.
Two tears slid down from Frey's eyes as she closed them.
"You're way too easy to satisfy if you're ready to die over that."
Luke looked at Frey—eyes shut as if she had no regrets—then simply yanked her straight off the earthen spike. "You haven't even smacked this rebellious brat once. Doesn't it feel like a rip-off to die now?"
A fresh jolt of pain snapped Frey's eyes open.
She watched Luke pull out a pile of medicine and tools. Exhausted, she gave him a helpless, grateful look and rasped, "On the road… thank you, Your Highness, for looking after me and Vayne."
She was deeply grateful to Luke—grateful he'd been willing to follow them all the way here.
But she also knew her wounds… probably couldn't be saved.
Her body had been reinforced by dark magic. If not for that, she would've died long ago.
"Mentor… don't…"
Vayne was beside Frey, crying so hard she was a mess, tears falling like rain.
Seeing her this devastated, even Frey—who'd already made peace with it—couldn't bear to leave.
But she knew how severe her injuries were. Still, she did her best to lift a hand and touch Vayne's face.
Warmth rose in her eyes as she wiped away Vayne's tears. "After this… when I'm not by your side anymore… you'll have to… ngh—!"
Her face twisted as she sucked in a sharp breath.
She looked down—
Luke's hands were moving at a ridiculous speed. Needle in one hand, he was stitching the gaping hole in her abdomen so fast it left afterimages.
The technique looked like he was repairing clothing.
"Could you two not do the whole tragic farewell thing while I'm saving someone?" Luke frowned at the pair. "And you—you're in the way. Move to the side, will you?"
What was this?
He hadn't said she couldn't be saved. Why were they acting like this was some grand drama?
Vayne's eyes lit up with hope. She hurriedly looked at Luke. "Can she still be saved?"
"Do you want her alive or do you want her dead?" Luke shot her a look, then didn't bother indulging her further.
Vayne immediately became much more obedient. She silently retreated, sat down, hugged her knees, and stared without saying a word.
She was badly injured too—everything hurt—but she didn't want to interfere with Luke.
"Your High—mm…"
Frey tried to speak, weakly, but the moment she opened her mouth, Luke shoved something in.
"Don't talk. Hold it in your mouth. Keep it there until it melts."
What Luke fed her was an entire slice of a legendary medicine: thousand-year snow lotus.
He still had two more of the same tier in his pack, shoved into a corner and practically collecting dust.
Now it finally had a use.
A naturally formed treasure like this was precious beyond measure—and it didn't need any extra refining.
Frey tasted a clean sweetness, like biting into cool snow. She kept it in her mouth.
Very quickly, she felt something unbelievable—strength returning to her drained body.
Then her whole body started to heat up, and even the pain around her wounds began to fade.
Whenever the medicine in her mouth was almost gone, Luke would feed her another slice.
Feeling it work firsthand, Frey understood: this wasn't merely "valuable." It was on an entirely different level.
Looking at Luke, she didn't know how she could ever repay him.
Half an hour passed like that.
In the meantime, Quinn and Yurna arrived as well.
The bloody wound in Frey's abdomen—pierced straight through by the earthen spike—had actually been stitched shut under Luke's absurd technique.
As she continued to absorb the snow lotus' potency, her complexion turned healthy and warm—she didn't look like someone who'd been on the brink of death at all.
Her abdomen still hurt, but it wasn't nearly as sharp.
Strength returned to the rest of her body too.
Even Frey herself hadn't expected to survive. She stared at Luke, so shocked she couldn't speak.
"If you want to thank me, do it properly—write it up. One thousand words. Hand it in when we get back."
Luke had Yurna wipe the sweat from him and muttered with a sigh, "But yeah—your body's tough. A normal person would've been dead before I even stepped in."
A weak smile appeared on Frey's face.
Vayne came back over too, having finally stopped crying. She watched Frey intently.
Only when Frey was truly about to leave her did Vayne realize how deep her regret went.
She knew it now: this was the real her.
She didn't want to be alone from here on out. She wanted Frey by her side. She wanted them to go back to how it used to be.
With that realization, Vayne finally understood.
So what if Frey had once been a dark mage?
She was still her mentor.
That was enough.
"Mentor… I shouldn't have said those things back then. I'm sorry."
Vayne lowered her head. Her eyes weren't filled with that stubborn steel anymore—she looked fragile, like a little girl.
Seeing the tear tracks on her face, Frey raised a hand and gently wiped them away, smiling softly. "I never blamed you. You didn't hate me… that's all I ever wanted."
"I—mmph!"
Vayne had just started to speak when, like Frey earlier, something got stuffed into her mouth.
A fierce bitterness flooded her mouth at once, and she instantly remembered the "nightmare moment" after leaving Wraith Cave.
She tried to spit it out—but Luke, clearly expecting that, clamped a hand over her mouth.
In the end, she could only whimper and swallow it down, shooting him an embarrassed, furious glare.
Every single time the mood got this important, this guy wrecked it!!!
"This medicine is priceless—and you're just gonna spit it out?" Luke stared at her, then finally let go.
"Cough—cough…"
Vayne coughed repeatedly, her brow pinched tight from how bitter it was.
But as the pill settled in her stomach, she felt the pain across her body begin to ease, little by little.
Frey glanced at Vayne, then at Luke, and after a moment of thought, she said, "Your Highness… would you be willing to take us in? From this day forward, I'm willing to serve you."
She didn't know how else to repay Luke.
Thinking it over and over, the only thing that felt even remotely adequate was to pledge herself to him from now on.
And this prince… was clearly someone worth serving.
Otherwise, she truly had no way to repay him.
Luke hadn't expected her to bring it up first. He smiled. "Of course. I'm short on people right now."
He wasn't some heartless machine, either.
When the mentor and student had argued and split up, Luke's first thought had been that going their separate ways might not be a bad thing.
And anyway, it was their business—they should sort it out themselves.
But afterward, he did a quick tarot pull for each of them, and neither result looked good.
So he couldn't relax.
For the next three days, he did the same. The first two days were bad, but not disastrous.
On the third day, the reading took a sharp turn for the worse.
And Luke wasn't the kind of person who could just watch from the sidelines while something happened to them.
So he used his last Godspeed Tracking Decree to lock onto Vayne's location—and chased her down all the way here.
Catching up in time was, at least, a good outcome.
Both of them had serious potential. Frey was a seasoned demon hunter with plenty of dark magic techniques.
And Vayne's potential… didn't even need to be said.
From the very start, Luke had planned to bring them into his personal guard.
"Vayne, what about you?" Frey asked, looking at her.
Vayne was silent for a moment, then nodded. "I'm willing too."
Revenge was still carved into her heart—but tonight, something changed.
She'd realized how weak she was. Her mentor had been right.
With their current strength, they were nothing in front of that demon.
If she wanted revenge, she had to become stronger. Otherwise, it was all empty talk.
She didn't know whether the Heart-Eater Demon Seed had influenced her before, but right now, her obsession with revenge didn't feel quite as heavy.
Instead… she cared more about the people beside her.
Just as she thought that—
A sharp pain suddenly erupted inside her, and Vayne's expression changed. A strange sensation spread through her whole body.
So much grief. So much heartbreak—like something was wailing inside her.
The noisy voices returned again.
Everyone immediately noticed the change.
Frey's eyes filled with worry. "Vayne—don't let the Heart-Eater Demon Seed affect you."
She knew the demon seed inside Vayne hadn't been removed. It was influencing her every moment.
Vayne clenched her teeth. Her face went pale, and she looked miserable.
Luke watched and realized it resembled withdrawal.
On Vayne's neck, several black lines visibly crawled upward, spreading.
If nothing else, the same thing was probably happening across her chest too.
Her eyes were shut, her expression tense—like she was struggling against something.
Vayne understood now: she had used the demon seed's power before, and its influence had seeped into every corner of her body.
Now the temptation was back, and it felt like a voice in her mind was whispering—
Stop resisting. I'll keep giving you the strength to take revenge.
And if she refused, then the power she had now would all fade away.
"If that's the price, then I don't need this power at all! I'll kill you with my own hands—don't you dare try to torment me again!"
Vayne's soul roared.
With that roar, the stalemate broke—her will crushed down in a one-sided suppression.
The black lines began to retreat, dissolving into wisps of dark smoke that slowly dispersed.
In their place came a terrifying weakness—like all strength had been drained away.
A moment later, Vayne slumped toward Luke and passed out.
Luke caught her, steadying her. He looked at her face and said, "Looks like she won."
At the same time…
Somewhere in a far corner of Runeterra.
A dim street, empty of people. Only after a while did two guards appear, patrolling.
Brick and stone buildings were packed tightly together—an unmistakably distinct little country.
Inside a larger manor, in a living room lit by a faint, trembling flame, two figures were present.
One of them sat casually atop a table, legs crossed, wearing very little, her figure breathtakingly alluring—so captivating it was hard to look away.
Her black hair fell naturally around a face so beautiful it defied description, as if it sat at the very edge of human imagination.
A glance, a small movement—either one could invite endless thoughts.
Opposite her, a brown-haired woman knelt on the floor, bruised and bleeding in places, yet staring up with a dazed, worshipful obsession.
To the woman on the table, it was like savoring a rare delicacy. In this backward little country, "fine things" were hard to come by.
That kneeling woman was a general—revered by countless people outside, powerful, admired.
And yet here, she could only crawl at this woman's feet.
The "delicacy" would have lasted a while, meant to be enjoyed slowly.
But then—
A sudden ripple of unease pulsed through the woman's heart, and her beautiful brows knit slightly.
She lifted her gaze to the east—toward the nation called Demacia.
"Who's messing with someone else's toy?"
Her sultry voice was laced with displeasure.
She remembered leaving behind a little "candy" there—something to ripen slowly over the long years, until it was ready to be savored at leisure.
But it hadn't been long at all.
Someone had clearly gotten impatient… and touched her candy early.
Annoyed, a soft, eerie pink tail-like whip unfurled behind her.
It curled around the kneeling woman's throat.
Then it tightened.
The kneeling woman's breathing turned ragged. She clawed at the coil, trembling, her expression twisted between agony and a terrible, helpless fixation.
Her face gradually went blue as her struggles weakened.
"How long can you last, sweetheart?"
The woman smiled, eyes gentle as she watched the other suffer.
The tail tightened further. The kneeling woman's breath broke into choking, uneven gasps, her eyes rolling as her body jerked uncontrollably.
"Come on," the woman murmured, sounding almost pleased. "You can hold on a little longer… can't you?"
But that small pleasure couldn't wash away her foul mood—her candy had been tampered with.
At last, the kneeling woman's resistance faded into feeble twitching.
Disappointment flickered in the woman's eyes.
Then—
Crack.
The tail snapped the woman's neck.
It released, and the body collapsed onto the floor.
The dead woman's neck was ringed with dark bruising, her eyes wide, staring blankly up at the one who'd killed her.
"Sleep well," the woman said softly, stepping down. "Tomorrow will be another lovely day, my dear."
Her tail reached out and gently closed the dead woman's eyes.
The pleasure drained from her face, replaced by irritation. Ending things early meant cutting short the "meal."
She pressed a hand to her stomach, pouting.
"I'm hungry."
Her figure began to shift, returning to her original form.
Her features still resembled the woman she'd been, but her eyes turned a pale, unsettling pink-white, her skin impossibly white, and black mist coiled around her body.
A demon.
She lifted her head toward Demacia, interest gleaming in her eyes.
"Sounds like something fun is happening over there… should I go take a look?"
After a moment, she decided to fill her stomach first.
So she left.
Outside, she moved like she was melting into the night itself, searching with quiet intent.
This entire little country…
Tonight, it was her hunting ground.
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