Arayn's vision swayed, the world around him melting into a haze of shifting light and shadow. His body screamed for rest, but he forced himself to stand.

  He lifted his gaze to the sky, his blurred sight struggling to focus. Was it truly over? He blinked, forcing clarity, searching for any trace of Valen. There was none. The Third Heavenly Demon was gone. His mission was complete.

  With a slow breath, Arayn willed his demon form to fade. The blackened aura receded, his body returning to its human state. His muscles trembled, his strength waning, but he refused to fall. He drove his sword into the earth, gripping the hilt to steady himself.

  His limbs felt like lead. His chest tightened with exhaustion. He could collapse at any moment, yet he knew—he couldn't afford to.

  His lifespan had been burned to its limit. Hours. That was all he had left.

  A shiver crawled up his spine, not from fear but urgency. He needed to hunt. Needed to devour souls. If he failed, his victory would mean nothing.

  Arayn’s breath was shallow, his grip on his sword faltering. His body refused to hold itself up any longer. Then, footsteps—soft, yet urgent—approached him. He turned his head slightly, his blurred vision sharpening just enough to recognize Alice.

  His strength finally gave out. He lurched forward. Before he could hit the ground, Alice caught him.

  "Are you okay?" she asked.

  Arayn clenched his jaw, forcing himself upright. He couldn’t show weakness. Not now. He straightened himself and met her gaze.

  "G-go away," he murmured. "You're the successor of the Crimson Sun now, and I am the criminal who has slain your fiance. You can't be seen with me."

  Alice exhaled sharply. "Don't worry about that right now," she said. "You only have three hours left."

  Her fingers brushed over the ring on her hand, and in response, a portal shimmered into existence beside her. Without hesitation, she reached inside and pulled out a small vial filled with a swirling yellow liquid.

  "This is a stamina potion," she said, pressing it into his hand. "It’ll recover your stamina instantly."

  Arayn wasted no time. He uncorked the vial and downed the thick, bitter liquid in one gulp. Warmth spread through his veins, pushing back the creeping touch of death.

  He exhaled, meeting her gaze once more. "I will treat this as my payment. From now on, we have nothing to do with each other."

  "You’re always like this," she said, her words chasing after his retreating back. "Acting cold… acting harsh… like nothing matters to you."

  Arayn paused—but only for a heartbeat. His expression remained indifferent.

  "Was everything we went through meaningless to you?" Her voice cracked, anger and hurt tangled together. "Did it mean nothing?"

  He didn’t answer. His silence spoke louder than any words. Without looking back, Arayn turned and began to walk away, like a man severing the last thread that tied him to this world.

  "Arayn!" Alice called after him, desperation clawing at her voice. "Say something! Brother!"

  He didn’t stop. He didn’t look back.

  He had fulfilled his mission. He had kept his promise.

  There was no place left for a man like him in the mortal world. He had slain his sister's fiance. The Crimson Sun Cult would hunt him from now on. He truly had no place to go back.

  As Arayn walked away, memories clawed their way back from the darkest corners of his mind.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  He saw himself, smaller, thinner, a red-eyed child scraping through the ruins of his burnt village. His hands were blackened with soot, dirt caked under his nails as he gnawed on whatever he could find — bark, scraps of cloth, insects… even the cold, rotting flesh of a dead snake.

  That day... he heard footsteps.

  A girl in a clean cloak stood before him — bright hair that matched his own, eyes that mirrored his crimson ones.

  "You..." Alice called. "Your hair… your eyes… They look just like mine."

  Behind her, a gruff voice called out, Darius, her uncle. "It’s just a coincidence, Alice. We’re done here. Let’s go."

  She didn’t move. Instead, she crouched down in front of the filthy boy gnawing on a snake’s carcass.

  "Why don’t you look sad?" she asked softly. "Your village… it’s gone."

  Arayn had stared at her—not with anger, not with grief—just the cold clarity of someone who had stared at death too long.

  "I survived," he had answered. "So I have to live on… and I’ll pursue it with everything I have."

  That was who he was.

  That was who he still was.

  No tears. No regret. Just survival.

  Alice was the one who opened the path for him.

  In a world that had abandoned him—in the ruins where even rats fled from his stench—she had been the first light that pierced through the endless night.

  He still didn’t understand the warmth people called family, the fragile thing called affection. Those words were hollow to him, like distant stars in a sky he could never reach.

  There was one thing Arayn understood.

  A debt.

  A hand that reached down when he was drowning in filth, that was worth more than all the crowns of the world.

  He had repaid that debt today, and he would do it again without hesitation, without demand for gratitude.

  He didn’t need her to smile at him. He didn’t need her to call him brother.

  As much as she needed his strength, no matter the distance, no matter how many realms or dimensions stood in his way, he would walk through them all.

  That was who he was.

  A blade without a sheath.

  A shadow without a home.

  But a man who would never leave a debt unpaid.

  Alice’s hand shot out, slender fingers closing around Arayn’s wrist.

  His steps halted.

  He turned, and for the first time, his eyes widened.

  Tears.

  Tears clung to Alice's sharp, composed eyes. For him, she was flawless — a woman sculpted by nobility and duty, untouchable in her grace. This was the first crack he had ever seen in her demeanor.

  “You really are stupid,” Alice whispered, her voice trembling. “You’re the only person who’s ever made me cry twice.”

  Arayn stood frozen, unsure. “…What’s wrong with you? We shouldn’t even be seen together. You know that.”

  Alice gritted her teeth. “Do you really not understand? After all this time?”

  Her grip tightened.

  “I care for you, Arayn. You’re not just a debt I repaid. You’re my precious family… The only one I chose with my own will.” Her voice broke slightly. “This will probably be the last time I see you. And you… you really have nothing to say to me?”

  Silence hung between them. Then, unexpectedly, Arayn laughed.

  “This won’t be the last time you see me,” he said, shaking his head with a faint smirk.

  Alice wiped her tears roughly. “Then tell me, where are you going?”

  Arayn turned his gaze to the horizon, where twilight bled into darkness. “The Netherworld,” he answered simply. “I’m a half-demon now. That’s where I belong.”

  Alice’s eyes hardened. “Then… give me your coordinates. I want to form a contract. I’ll summon you from time to time.”

  Arayn glanced over his shoulder. His voice lowered. “That won’t work. I have no altar there. Not yet.”

  Alice’s lips quivered before she clenched her fists.

  “…Then this really is the last time, isn’t it?”

  She bit her lip.

  “Stupid.”

  A faint hum resonated beneath Arayn's feet.

  A magic circle bloomed beneath him, its runes glowing faint crimson, pulsing like a heartbeat. His body began to shimmer, edges fraying into particles of light as the Netherworld called him back.

  This was the price.

  He had carved the contract upon his own soul, using his forsaken mortal shell as the anchor to step into this world. The condition was simple: slay the Heavenly Demon. Now that Valen had fallen… his time here had ended.

  Arayn turned to Alice.

  Gently, unlike the warrior who cleaved demons, he placed a firm hand on her shoulder and pushed her back a step.

  “I don’t know when the next time we’ll meet will be,” he said. “But I’ll do my best to come back.”

  His sharp eyes softened.

  “You… you’re the successor of the Crimson Sun now. Thrive. Survive. Don’t let my efforts go to waste. And —” his lips twitched into a faint smile, “take care of Soren for me, alright?”

  Alice wiped her damp eyes, nodding with trembling lips. “You idiot… dense as stone when it comes to feelings, but you have your own way of caring.”

  She forced a small smile. “Just like Soren, don’t stop lending a hand to others. Even if you don’t understand affection now… maybe one day, someone will change that for you.”

  Arayn's thoughts drifted to Soren, his first disciple. A boy so clumsy yet honest. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps raising someone, guiding them, was the first step to truly understanding.

  His form shimmered further, almost gone.

  He looked at Alice one last time, and once more, the vision of their first meeting flashed in his mind: A lonely, starving boy in a ruined village. A curious girl who asked why he wasn’t crying.

  "You opened the path for me," Arayn said, his voice quieter now, but warmer than ever. “I’ll do my best to do the same. Thank you, Sister.”

  For the first time, he smiled warmly and genuinely. Finally, with the soft glow of vanishing light, Arayn was gone.