CHAPTER 52: CH 52: THE DAMNED DEMON - PART 1

Louise had known fear for as long as he could remember.

Fear of hunger. Fear of men stronger than him. Fear of dying nameless in the ruins of a broken world.

But ever since Lady Lilith had taken him in, that fear became something constant, something sharp that never dulled.

Because Lady Lilith was not human.

And neither was he anymore.

The moment she had chosen him as her servant, he had been reborn in her shadow. He had received strength beyond his imagination, a body that could endure, and a purpose that gave him direction.

Yet with every gift she gave, she demanded loyalty. With every ounce of power, she planted chains deep into his soul.

He was hers. Entirely.

At first, he had been grateful. But the longer he stayed by her side, the more he realized what kind of being she truly was.

Her smile could melt stone, yet her wrath could tear through flesh like paper. She could whisper kindness into his ear and, in the same breath, demand blood as proof of loyalty.

Even then, Louise had endured.

Because the alternative was far worse.

Every time Lilith spoke of her own lord—the one who had saved her life nearly a century ago, the one who had given her a new existence—Louise felt it.

That suffocating terror.

The weight of something vast, ancient, and merciless.

Whenever she praised her lord, her eyes glowed with reverence, but Louise’s heart would twist violently, warning him:

’Never meet that man... never stand before him.’

But now...

As he stood on the snowy battlefield, as the child before him locked eyes with him, Louise felt that same dread clawing at his soul.

It was the same suffocating pressure.

The same inevitability.

The same whisper that told him—this boy was not someone he should oppose.

"L-Lady Lilith...Should we... should we retreat? We can come back later, when things are... clearer."

Louise whispered, his throat tight.

The snow swirled wildly between them, the storm howling like a chorus of ghosts. Lilith’s cloak whipped violently in the wind, yet she stood firm, eyes narrowing. Her face twisted—not with fear, but with frustration.

Retreat?

That word had never belonged in her vocabulary.

Her pride as Lady Lilith would never allow her to run from a child.

Yet even Louise could see it. The agitation in her expression, the way her grip on her sword tightened, the way her breath came faster. She was restless. Unsettled.

She didn’t want to leave.

But she knew. Somewhere deep inside, even she knew this was not a fight she could win.

Lilith exhaled sharply, her voice low but firm.

"...Fine. We leave."

Louise blinked. Relief flooded him like a wave.

"Yes, my lady. A wise decision—"

"We’ll inform my master of this anomaly. If a power like this exists here, he must know. He will decide how to deal with it."

She added, her voice dark.

"Yes, of course!"

Louise almost cried with joy. His body loosened, his knees nearly buckling with how tense he had been. For a moment, he thought they would survive. That they would walk away.

But fate was not so kind.

The storm split.

A glint of silver pierced the snow.

Before Louise could even scream a warning, something sharp stabbed through Lilith’s chest.

"—!"

Blood burst out violently, spraying across the white snow in a gruesome crimson arc.

Her body jerked, her eyes widening in disbelief.

Then she collapsed forward.

"My lady!"

Louise’s scream cracked through the storm. His heart plummeted, his legs giving out as he stumbled toward her fallen form.

The proud, untouchable Lady Lilith... struck down in a single blow.

Her blood stained the snow, steam rising from the heat of her body against the ice.

Lucian froze. His eyes widened, his chest thundering as if a drum had been placed inside him. He hadn’t expected this. Not this sudden, not this brutal.

He wanted to breathe but his lungs refused.

His gaze locked onto Lilith’s fallen body. The blood pooling beneath her, the life fading from her eyes.

Something inside him boiled. Panic. Rage. A suffocating storm of emotions he couldn’t put into words.

From within the blizzard, another figure emerged.

A boy.

He was young—perhaps only a few years older than Lucian himself. His steps were slow but steady, his blade dripping with fresh blood that trailed steaming lines across the snow.

His expression was calm. Too calm.

Louise’s breath trembled as he raised his arms defensively. His voice cracked, desperate.

"S-Stay back! Please... spare me!"

The boy ignored him completely.

His gaze was locked only on Louise, his words like ice.

"I can’t let you live. You’ll run back, bring more trouble. Just like her..."

He tilted his blade slightly, the blood sliding off into the snow.

"You end here too."

Louise’s knees trembled violently. His throat went dry. The air felt too heavy to breathe.

He looked down at Lilith, her cooling body lying still on the snow. Blood still seeped from her wound, staining his hands red as he touched her shoulder.

His chest ached, his eyes burned, but he couldn’t stop himself from whispering:

"My lady... please... just once more... let me hear your voice..."

He wanted to touch her face. To cling to her warmth before it disappeared forever.

But before he could, something unseen coiled around his body.

A force—cold, heavy, and merciless—dragged him back, locking him in place.

He struggled, but it was useless. His limbs refused to move. His breath quickened in terror.

"No... no, no!"

Louise screamed, thrashing against the invisible grip. His heart pounded so loudly it hurt.

The boy walked closer, his eyes calm but merciless.

Each step echoed in Louise’s ears like a death knell.

Lucian’s fists clenched. His mind was chaos, torn between relief and confusion.

Whoever this boy was, he had just removed one of Lucian’s greatest threats—yet the way he carried himself, the cold certainty in his words, screamed danger.

The system in Lucian’s head flickered.

[Warning: Unknown entity detected.]

Lucian’s chest tightened.

If Lilith was terrifying, then this boy was something worse.

Because unlike her, his presence felt familiar, almost the same as his lady’s but stronger and purer.

The boy finally stopped in front of Louise. He raised his blade, the edge gleaming even under the storm’s chaos.

"Rest."

He whispered coldly.

The blade lifted.

Louise’s scream tore through the storm—

And the world fell silent.