CHAPTER 154: THE PROMISE HE COULDN’T MAKE

[Leif’s POV—Thorenvald Estate—Moments Later]

Baron Sigurd’s words hung in the air like ice.

A dead female.

My breath hitched. The divine glow around Luminael flickered, dimming as if he too sensed the shift in the room. Alvar’s grip on my shoulder tightened—not painfully, but firmly, grounding me.

"Where?" Alvar’s voice was low and sharp. Too sharp. He only sounded like this when he was seconds away from drawing blood.

Sigurd swallowed hard.

"N-Near the northern forest’s border, my lord. She... she appeared recently. The knights are securing the area—but..."

But he couldn’t finish.

Alvar’s jaw clenched.

I pushed to my feet, Luminael still in my hand. A faint tremor buzzed through the hilt—Luminael was trembling.

"Master..." the sword whispered, voice suddenly small. "Something is wrong. Very wrong... the light—it’s been..." He hesitated. "Taken."

A cold dread snaked through my spine.

Taken?

What does that—

Alvar turned to me, eyes dark with worry. "Leif. You stay behind me."

"I’m not fragile—"

"Leif."

Just my name. But said with that voice—heavy, protective, terrified—it made my heartbeat uneven.

I nodded slowly.

Sigurd shifted awkwardly. "My lord... you both should come see it."

"Let’s go..." I said.

***

[Outside—Path to the Northern Forest]

The air felt wrong.

Heavy. Thick.

Like something unseen was rotting the world from the inside.

Zephyy perched tensely on my shoulder, fur bristling, tail puffed like a terrified cat. Alvar walked beside me, silent but alert, hand hovering near the sword at his hip. Father followed close behind, his expression carved in grim stone.

And as we reached the clearing, we saw them. Haldor and Roland stood frozen, pale, and rigid as statues.

"Cover her face," Haldor said hoarsely.

Two guards stepped forward and gently pulled a cloth over the dead woman’s features—as if even the sight of her might shatter something inside us.

When they noticed us approach, Haldor and Roland quickly bowed.

"My lord," they said in unison, voices tight.

I glanced at the trembling cloth covering the body.

"Is she... really dead?" My voice felt too quiet.

Roland swallowed. "Yes, my lord."

No hesitation. No comfort. Just cold truth.

I nodded slowly. "But... who is she? Where did she come from? How did she end up here?"

Zephyy leaned forward on my shoulder, nose twitching anxiously.

"Master..." he murmured, voice unusually soft. "I can smell something familiar."

I stiffened.

"...Familiar?"

He nodded, fur trembling. I turned sharply to Haldor and Roland. "Do we... know this woman?"

They exchanged a glance. A fearful, heavy, loaded glance. Then Haldor stepped forward, bowed, and said, "She is the princess, my lord."

Silence cracked through the clearing.

Father froze. Alvar blinked once—slowly—jaw clenching. And my heart dropped straight into my stomach.

"W—What do you mean... princess?" Father demanded, voice sharp.

Haldor lowered his head deeply. "She is... Princess Sirella, my lord."

Our eyes snapped open in unison—shock, fear, and disbelief all slamming into us like icy water.

"...Si—Sirella?" My voice cracked on her name.

No. No, it couldn’t be—She couldn’t—

My feet moved before my thoughts did.

I stepped forward, trembling, and reached down. My fingers shook violently as I lifted the cloth and gasped.

It was her.

Princess Sirella.

But not alive. Not the proud, sharp woman she once was.

Her face was pale—drained of all warmth. Her eyelids were bruised. Her lips are blue. Her body was limp as a broken doll.

And her chest—where her divine light should have been—was hollow.

As if something had reached into her soul and ripped it out.

"How..." My breath hitched. "... How did she..."

A soft hum vibrated from Luminael in my hand.

"It was the Devil, Master," the sword whispered, voice trembling. "This is what corruption looks like. He... stole her light."

Zephyy’s ears flattened.

"Yes... I can see it too. Her soul is empty. Drained. She must have been running. Trying to escape. Trying to warn you."

I swallowed hard, my throat tightening painfully.

Warn me?

Warn us?

But she never made it. Because the Devil—the Devil wearing her brother’s face—caught her.

Killed her.

Stole her life and her light and a piece of something far bigger.

My fists clenched around Luminael’s hilt.

The forest was silent. Too silent. As if the world itself was holding its breath. And for the first time since awakening my power, I felt fear coil cold and sharp in my chest.

Because this wasn’t random. This wasn’t accidental.

This was a message.

A warning.

A declaration of war.

***

[Later—Thorenvald estate]

I stood by the window.

The early dusk washed the courtyard in muted blue, and below... Caelum stood beside Sirella’s covered body.

He hadn’t moved. Not once. Not a breath too loud, not a step too close. He just stood there, wings lowered, eyes empty, shoulders trembling in that awful, silent way of someone who refuses to cry.

Watching her.

Holding vigil for the last piece of his family.

My throat tightened.

"Do you think..." My voice wavered. "...he’ll recover?"

Alvar, who had been quietly leaning against the wall behind me, lifted his gaze.

He exhaled slowly.

"He will," he said. "But Leif—her death... was already written the moment she agreed to kill you under the Devil’s command."

Silence wrapped around us.

Cold.Heavy.Suffocating.

I looked out again.

"She was forced," I whispered.

Alvar pushed off the wall and walked toward me, expression darkening.

"She should have come here," he said sharply. "She had the chance. We offered her safety. She chose to stay with the Devil."

His eyes hardened.

"So stop pitying her death. If the Devil hadn’t killed her..." He paused, jaw tightening. "...I would have."

A shiver ran down my spine. Not out of fear—but from the bitter truth in his words.

Alvar wasn’t cruel.He was simply honest.

And he would have done anything to protect me. He went quiet for a moment, gaze drifting out the window, face shadowed in thought.

"But the problem isn’t her death," he murmured. "If the Devil killed her, then that means..."

I finished for him.

"...the Emperor is gone too."

Alvar stiffened. The weight of the truth settled heavily in the room.

"The entire royal family has been wiped out," I whispered. "All except Caelum."

Alvar turned to me, eyes sharp and searching. "What are you going to do now? "

I stared at him—at the man who had held me through death, danger, and destiny—and felt my heart twist.

"...I think the time has come," I said softly, "to end the Devil before he corrupts all of Aurelius."

His eyes widened—slowly—fear creeping into the edges of his expression.

"Leif..." he breathed. "You know what you’re saying, right? If you end the Devil—"

"I will be going back." I cut him off gently. "I know."

Silence crashed between us.

The kind that suffocates. The kind that hurts more than any wound. The kind that feels like goodbye.

Alvar’s jaw clenched.

"I don’t want you to go." His voice cracked—barely, but enough for me to hear it. "I don’t want to lose you."

"I know."

I wrapped my arms around myself. "But Alvar... for you to live... for everyone to live... I can’t stand by. I can’t let people die because I was afraid to act."

His eyes flickered—agony, frustration, and love all tangled together.

"That’s exactly why that damn goddess chose you," he muttered bitterly. "Because you’re too good. Too selfless. And I hate that."

I didn’t argue.

Because deep inside...I knew he was right.

I wasn’t a warrior.I wasn’t a chosen hero.I was just someone who couldn’t ignore suffering.

Even if it hurt me. Especially because it hurt me.

I looked back out the window.

At Caelum.At Sirella’s still form.At the growing shadows creeping across the estate.

"The war with the Devil..." My voice trembled. "...is close. Very close."

Alvar didn’t speak.

He just stood beside me—silent, breathing unsteadily, torn between wanting to hold me and wanting to drag me away from fate itself.

"We have to end him," I whispered. "As soon as possible."

My fingers tightened around the window edge.

"Or else..." My voice cracked. "...someone else close to me will be targeted next."

Alvar closed his eyes and stepped closer, resting his forehead gently against mine.

As if trying to memorize me.

As if afraid this moment might be the last.

His voice trembled when he spoke. "Leif... Can you promise you’ll come back?"

My heart squeezed so hard it hurt.

A promise. Such a simple thing. And yet...I couldn’t give it.

I opened my mouth—but no words came out.

Because lying to him would be cruel. And telling the truth would break him.

So instead— "We should meet the spirit goddess," I said quietly, pulling back. "We need to find out what’s happening in the Imperial Palace."

His breath hitched—just barely.But I felt it.

I walked past him, toward the door—and as it closed behind me with a soft THUD—I froze.

My legs locked.My chest tightened.

Because leaving Alvar...was the scariest thing I had ever done.

But there was no choice. Not anymore.

"Are you ready?"

I turned.

The spirit goddess stood a few steps away, her expression uncharacteristically grave.No teasing.No scolding.Only tension was etched across her face like cracks in stone.

"I... want to know what happened there," I whispered.

She nodded slowly.

"You will." Her gaze darkened. "But you must prepare yourself, Leif. Because the Devil has grown stronger..."

A pause.A heavy one.

"...and half of Aurelius is already corrupted."

My breath caught.

Half?

That fast?

Her eyes softened with something that almost felt like pity.

"Follow me," she said. "There isn’t much time left."

I swallowed hard—and nodded.

Then I walked.

One step. Then another. Down the hall. Past the flickering lamps. Toward whatever horror was waiting for us.

Toward the truth.

Toward the beginning of the end.