"No... It seems I can't change it."

It didn't take long for the black shadow to nervously speak after taking the twisted wand from Merka's hands.

"Oedipus's authority is now higher than mine, just relying on this little physical body... I can't change her curse."

A blue light emerged from the staff of Warlord, surpassing the limitations of the eyes and directly projected into Merka's mind, forming a clear line of text.

"Casting results in the death of the staff bearer...?"

Merka read out the line of text.

"That's right, that's the specific content of the curse..."

"Or you could call it a program. But regardless of what you call it, the basic idea is that this is a kind of magic specifically for angels."

"If you don't understand, let me explain it to you appropriately."

"You can understand it as a trap."

"The condition here is casting, the target is the staff bearer, and the output result is death."

In other words, if you use magic with the twisted wand, you will trigger the trap and die instantly."

"As for how this death command is specifically carried out... I don't know."

"Warlord's angel may suddenly come out and dismember you completely."

Pointing to the line of blue small text in the air, the black shadow explained patiently to Merka in a gentle tone.

"In this case, Oedipus did intentionally instruct Mammon to give you this thing... She wants you dead."

"..."

Helplessly looking at the twisted wand in the black shadow's hand, Merka awkwardly pursed his lips.

Merka thought that by obtaining such a powerful relic, it would finally be his turn to protect Turing.

But he never expected the cost to be so great.

"Can't it be changed at all?"

Merka asked unwillingly to the black shadow.

"Um... Let me see."

Looking closely at the twisted wand in his hand, the black shadow continuously adjusted the blue text in the air, revealing a more fundamental logic structure.

"I seem to be able to change one word in this sentence."

After hesitating for a while, the black shadow said to Merka cautiously.

"What do you mean, what does it mean to change one word?"

"Can I directly change the original sentence to (When casting, the staff bearer does not die)?"

Merka frowned and immediately raised a question.

"That won't work, it changes the original meaning too much."

"It requires too many permissions."

"And, you can't change the curse to something that angels can't do anyway."

"For example, you can write a curse to let an angel kill you, which isn't difficult."

"But if you want to change the curse to: once you release magic, you won't die. Well, that's almost impossible."

"Otherwise, wouldn't you be immortal?"

Merka nodded, understanding the black shadow's meaning.

After thinking for a moment, he spoke to the black shadow again.

"I understand, then help me change it like this."

"(When casting, the staff bearer dies slowly)."

"Is this change acceptable?"

The black shadow's body rippled like a black vortex, as if showing his mood of doubt.

"Even so, while you may wield magic, you still cannot escape death."

"How so, do you want to make the same end as Oedipus?"

Merka shook her head and let out a soft sigh.

"I didn't say that, did I?"

"But now, we have no other choice."

"Help me alter it, as a contingency plan for me."

The shadow fell silent, nodding in accordance with Merka's request, and proceeded to modify the curse on the twisted staff.

"Now, can we head to the central city?"

The shadow seemed anxious, eager to meet backdrop in the distant central city, even though Merka's information about backdrop might not be entirely accurate.

"Well... rest assured, we will go."

"But Maria, the bishop, has already sealed the city."

"If we want to venture outside, we must seek her permission."

Merka wearily sank into the nearby sofa, feeling the pressure from the constant influx of new information making it hard for him to catch his breath.

"Let's go early tomorrow morning," Merka said.

"Alright... then, see you early tomorrow morning," the shadow said, disappearing into the night.