Still submerged in the warm water, Lilith released a long sigh that dissolved into a quiet, irritated groan. In her mind, resentment churned: If Malus weren't sealed inside me—if I weren't shackled to this curse—my life would be peaceful. I wouldn't be here, a worn-out fugitive.
The voice that erupted inside her didn't reach her through her ears but from the very center of her skull, slicing through the soothing heat like a blade of ice.
"I'm not the one to blame for your parents' foolish decisions and heroic theatrics. They're the ones who sealed me inside a helpless little child like you," the voice hissed.
Lilith shuddered—not from the temperature, but from the sudden shift. Malus now spoke with a distinctly feminine voice: melodic, but edged with cruelty.
"If anyone's responsible for you being a walking target, it's them," Malus concluded, sounding superior… and mildly bored.
Lilith huffed, sending bubbles rippling to the surface. The demon was, undeniably, right.
"Tell me about them," Lilith demanded, her mental voice sharp with urgency. "My parents—what they were, and why they sealed you."
Malus's response was a short, brittle laugh that echoed like shattering crystal.
"I won't. That's your task, girl. Figure it out yourself. Don't spoil the fun."
Then she fell silent, leaving Lilith alone once more with the drifting steam and the persistent awareness that even in her most vulnerable moments, she was never truly unwatched.
Lilith's exhaustion finally swallowed her whole. The hot water loosened her aching muscles, and the inn's bed—an undeserved luxury—welcomed her like a cocoon. She collapsed onto the mattress, and darkness claimed her the instant her head touched the pillow.
---
"All signs indicate she has left the Ether Continent's protection."
The voice was deep and rasping, belonging to a creature standing two meters tall with shoulders like fortress gates. Thick horns curved backward against his skull, and his skin—an opaque shade of carmine—marked him as a member of a high combat caste.
"Then the time has come! Should we strike immediately, my King?"
This second being was more humanoid, but his eyes were narrow, restless red slits, and the long black claws he drummed against the air betrayed a nature far more impulsive and volatile.
Their cold, calculated exchange filled a massive chamber where the temperature seemed to drop with every spoken word. The place wasn't chaotic—it was crafted with meticulous demonic architecture. The hall was vast, built of obsidian and iron. Skulls and horns weren't scattered decor but expertly woven into the elaborate wall patterns, giving the room a terrible beauty and the weight of infernal authority.
"No. First, we must locate her and trace her movements."
The voice that followed was disturbingly soft, yet carried a suffocating chill. The King was the smallest among them—barely 1.60 meters tall—but his presence was overwhelming, making the very air tremble. Shadows clung to him, moving as though alive.
"A reckless attack would only breed disorder. And there is still the possibility of crossing paths with the Luminars… who are likely hunting her as well