The child’s game should end. Decide what you want, then test your true heart. Don’t fear a road like a broken mountain trail. You dared betray the world—what can stop you?

She slumped on my shoulder; chill tears slid down my back like rain on stone.

Her fingers dug into me, as if crushing her own sin, as if clinging to the last lifeline in a storm.

I faced myself. But unlike you, I don’t deserve to call myself pure. I’m ugly—desires tangled like briars, jealous of Stini, hating Augustus. None of them did wrong, yet I loathe them for nothing, refuse to explain. I… I was never clean from the start. Can someone like that live with any grace?

Nivifar, even ugly, you must claim your heart, because it’s yours. We expect a Hero to answer perfectly in a crisis, then paste that “correctness” over ourselves. But a Hero’s “correct,” even most people’s “justice,” can’t replace your soul. Free will is the cruelest thing in the world, and the Creator’s most precious gift to mortals.

“Correct” isn’t everything. If it’s the wish you’d burn everything for, then stepping into “wrong”—why not?

I helped Nivifar up and met her gaze head-on. I thumbed away the tears at her lashes and smudged off a strip of ink-black sigil.

No one walks the world unsullied. Our souls are fickle and romantic, more elusive than a moon that hides behind clouds. Ugliness is only the old skin we shed. Come back. This is for you alone; you’re underage, you still have the right to be willful.

…Can I still turn back?

I kissed her fine collarbone. Then up—her neck, her cheek, her eyes, her brow, like steps toward dawn.

The sigils’ flow turned dry, like jammed gears. The marks flaked from her face in sheets, revealing the beauty beneath.

Of course you can.

I smiled at her. And yes—a sweet, ardent, lingering kiss.

Uh, Stini—this was necessary, per your request. Don’t hold a grudge.

Biyag planned to let Nivifar act on her own will, then break her in a tragic end, admit the darkness, and turn her into a thrall.

As for why the devil sold me Biyag’s plan and flipped sides—because I paid more. So the devil’s the real winner, eating from all three tables.

Next up, the crowd-pleaser: stealing the girl. Biyag even lent out his own demonic artifact, which means Nivifar’s tier isn’t low. If not high-tier thrall, mid-tier’s fine.

No one complains when you rob a villain’s harvest. You get to fleece him, and it feels great.

Breaking Biyag’s control over Nivifar… a bit hard. A contract is absolute. But with breach clauses, you can pay the price and void it.

Biyag fortified Nivifar’s mind. The contract states she acts “by Nivifar’s own will.” Sadly, my dear brother watched too many Great Heroes and Sages, and forgot how changeable a teenage girl’s heart is.

Mortals betray even themselves. The second rider clause is fine.

The problem is the first contract. By the terms, Biyag gets Nivifar’s soul…

The world won’t tolerate me—how do I turn back?

Nivifar cried to me.

I’ve killed so many. No one can save me.

If the world won’t hold you, then I will. Come to my side. I’ll help you.

A Hero, then?

Hey, hey—someone’s willing to help. Don’t hug some useless guilt and scrub yourself with moral bleach.

I sighed. Little girls are hard to coax.

Not your sister. Join me, Andor. Since you and I already… I have reason to protect my own woman. I said it steady.

I lied to you.

I’ll solve your trouble. Just listen to me. It’ll all go smooth. The world is fragile, darkness is countless, and humanity won’t spare a Hero who guards the world. I said it with a tease.

I lied to you.

Come with me. Maybe… I can’t make you catch up to Stini, but I can give you a fair stage to compete beside her. I stroked her cheek and spoke soft.

Of course I’m lying. Those lines are for Stini’s ears.

I can really join you?

Look. Really look. Am I worth joining? I opened my arms and drew her in.

Stini thought I was just holding Nivifar close. From where she couldn’t see, the thrall conversion ritual had begun.

I let Nivifar’s face rest on my chest, and I showed her what lies below the fabric of me—the Shadow beneath—my true form at the floor of the Ocean of Darkness, endless Shadow without shore.

This is all my truth. No more lies to you.

Darkness. Hypocrisy. Lies. Plans. All the falsehood I speak, laid bare.

And persistence. Strength. Conviction. Thought. All the truth I swear, spoken in turn.

I promise you an endless life, second only to mine.

I promise I act for the world’s continuance.

I promise I strive for Ferrel, high in the sky.

I promise I don’t love you, but I truly like you.

I promise I am no saint, but I will never betray you.

Endless Demon King Andreas hereby swears.

Now you decide—do you join me?

I waited for Nivifar’s answer. My right arm around her slid to the nape of her neck. A thin edge of death pricked from my fingertips like frost.

My left hand pretended to brace against the ground for balance. In truth it pressed my shadow, reached into the Shadow authority domain, and tapped out a pulse code Dulan and I agreed long ago.

The pulse code meant—

Do it now!