His nerves numbed by fear, Allen’s legs trembled slightly as he instinctively scrambled backward on the floor, pushing himself away with shaking hands.
*Thud…* A dull thump jolted Allen—it was over. He’d slammed into something hard. Maybe it was the shadow he’d imagined that made him shove back with all his strength. The impact left him dizzy, a sharp pain drilling into his skull. For a moment, the sting was so fierce he heard a buzzing in his ears.
The pain cut through his fear. The demon he’d conjured in his mind? Gone.
*Ah… ha…* So tired… so tired… Why not just end it? I can’t hold on anymore…
Head bowed, Allen slumped against the wooden wall behind him, drifting into aimless thoughts…
Gloria—who was she? Why am I fighting this ridiculous war for my brother? With my skills and my father’s status, I could’ve lived comfortably, even as an outcast… Maybe it’s fate. Just like my brothers said—I really am a jinx…
Ridiculous… utterly ridiculous…
*Hahahaha… hahaha… ha…*
He laughed aloud, mocking his own weakness, his futile efforts? No—this laughter was Allen scorning his inability to escape fate. Once, he’d fought hard for his life. But fate kept toying with him, dangling hope only to snatch it away. Again and again. Until hope bled into despair. In his twenty fleeting years, he’d tried so damn hard.
He remembered a philosopher’s words in a book back in his room: "He who masters his fate is a god." That became his driving force… leaving his bedroom, joining Gryffindor… He’d worked so hard…
*Ha… cough… cough…* A dry cough choked his laughter. He couldn’t breathe, hacking violently.
Useless…
Head still drooping, his mind wandered…
A throbbing pain pulsed in his head. Something cool brushed his cheek, like a drop of water…
An illusion… must be an illusion… Ignore it…
Allen thought, too exhausted to care about the strange sensation. He just wanted to numb himself…
*Drip… drip… drip…* The sound of water hitting the floor—so real…
Probably blood from the back of his head. It wouldn’t stop…
The vast night… he dared not step beyond this warmed wooden wall…
A cold wind swept in from nowhere, making him shiver. He pulled his knees to his chest, curling into a ball—the best way to stay warm. His thin nightgown offered no defense against the deep chill of early spring…
*Sob… sob…* Helpless tears…
Damn these tears… Back in Gryffindor days, he’d never have cried… He’d sworn never to weep over his weakness again. Now it felt like a slap to the face…
Sleep… think of nothing… Damn this night… damn Demon Castle… damn this world…
…
Damn myself…
Drowsiness crept over Allen…
…………………
*Thump…*
Losing his support, he stumbled and crashed hard to the floor. The pain jolted him fully awake.
"Are you an idiot?" The same cold, calm voice cut through…
The scene blurred between real and unreal… The room blazed with light from the Magic Crystal Lamp, shadows clinging to corners but everything clear.
He lay sprawled in the doorway. Yes—Lilith’s room. The place he cleaned every day.
Through hazy vision, a tangle of black hair loomed above him. Arms crossed, she looked down like she owned the world…
Wearing the same style nightgown, but a rare, gloomy black.
What now… this person…
Still half-asleep, Allen almost complained—but fear clamped his mouth shut.
His drowsy eyes snapped wide with terror. This person… could kill him anytime. So dangerous…
"Get up."
Allen didn’t dare move.
"Get up…"
Lilith’s cold gaze flickered with annoyance.
"Get up… or get out." She looked at him like trash.
Slowly, Allen rose.
His leg tendons screamed as if tearing apart. Fear still made him tremble slightly…
Just as expected, his numb legs gave way the moment he stood, collapsing him back down…
Tears threatened to spill. He tilted his head up, fighting them back.
Lilith didn’t smile, but her eyes crinkled—like she was barely holding in laughter…
She’s laughing…
Stubbornly, Allen wiped his tears with his sleeve and stood again. This time, steadier…
The Dark Lord was so tall—to Allen, at least…
Whenever he met her eyes, he had to look up slightly. It always made him feel small…
"I saw everything~" The long-absent Dark Lord flashed a teasing smile.
"Pitiful as you are, I’ll let you sleep here tonight. Out of sympathy, of course…"
…
"I…"
Allen was stunned, almost wanting to refuse.
"Not willing? Then leave." Lilith saw right through him, her threat sharp.
Don’t go… don’t… it’s too dark…
"Thank you… Master."
"Good. Sit on that armchair now." Her command brooked no argument. Allen obeyed, blood still wet on his face, threatening to drip…
Standing before him, Lilith closed her eyes briefly, muttering under her breath. A dark sigil formed behind her…
Allen knew this mark well. Too well. It haunted his nightmares…
This sigil… had slaughtered hundreds of crusaders. From it, blades shot out—razor-sharp, gutting bodies… mountains of corpses… rivers of blood… rotting flesh…
*Ugh… gag… ugh…* His stomach revolted. He’d be shredded next… Nausea overwhelmed him. He retched violently, spewing his half-digested dinner across the floor…
Lilith flinched back, narrowly avoiding the mess…
Agony ripped through him. His stomach felt inverted, heaving until nothing remained but scraps on the floor…
*Sob… sob…* Allen stopped fighting. He’d die tonight. No point struggling. He let the tears flow…
Lilith didn’t stop her spell. Allen braced for blades…
But no blades came. Instead, a wooden box appeared…
Lilith caught it, pulling out ointment and bandages. She approached Allen slowly…
Allen froze…
Lilith conjured a cleansing water orb. She pressed it firmly to his face—rough but soothing through the water.
After cleaning him, she carefully applied medicine and bandaged his wound. Every move was gentle… Allen was stunned by the sudden kindness. By the time he snapped out of it, she’d finished—even cleaning his mouth.
Only his tear-streaked eyes remained; blood and grime were gone…
Without pause, Lilith summoned a large water orb. She slammed it to the floor. The orb sucked up every trace of vomit like a living thing. She levitated it, flung open the window with a gust of wind, and shot the orb out like a cannonball. Then she quietly closed the window, climbed into her own bed, pulled the covers up, and picked up her half-read book…
Allen sat frozen in the armchair… stunned…
Silence stretched… Minutes passed. Lilith snapped her book shut and tapped the Magic Crystal Lamp. Darkness swallowed the room…
Pitch black again…
Allen jolted awake—he realized she was turning in for the night…
The dark felt more terrifying now. Panic surged. He remembered the hallway…
Almost without thinking, Allen scrambled onto Lilith’s bed. After hesitating… he couldn’t face the unknown dark. He slipped under the covers…
Pulling the blanket over his head, its warmth gave him a trace of safety…
A faint lavender scent filled the air. Slowly… Allen fell asleep…
