The darkness of the Cynophelia Forest stretched like a living shroud, smothering the moonlight between its twisted branches. An unnatural silence ruled the air, broken only by the crunch of leaves beneath the steps of Bragoz and Dimitri as they moved through the damp, tangled undergrowth.

  Bragoz walked with steady strides, his imposing figure radiating an almost palpable pressure. His gaze burned with restrained fury and frustration, while Dimitri followed a few paces behind, measuring every movement, aware that a single misplaced word could cost him his life.

  Suddenly, Bragoz stopped. He turned sharply, his crimson eyes reflecting the fury of the abyss.

  "Dimitri, you are useless," he growled, his voice echoing like thunder through the trees. "You can't even gather ten thousand souls to summon one of my brothers."

  The vampire swallowed, the air turning heavy in his lungs. The demon's mere presence was enough to make his body tremble, yet he forced himself to speak.

  "My lord, you know my loyalty to the demons is absolute," he replied, his voice shaking. "But I cannot execute this plan alone. That is why I ask for your assistance—to ensure everything is prepared when the mana surge begins."

  Bragoz's eyes flared with barely contained rage. He stepped forward, his shadow swallowing the vampire whole.

  "Twenty-five days at your side, and each has been a torment," he spat with contempt. "If you believe your incompetence can be redeemed with words, you are gravely mistaken. Speak. Explain how you intend to correct your failures… before I lose my patience."

  Dimitri lowered his head and drew a slow breath. One mistake would seal his fate.

  "I have gathered all members of the cult within the kingdom," he said, his voice steadier now. "I have prepared an ambush for the academy students. Once we force them out of hiding, we will use them as sacrifices. But I need your power, my lord. You can lure the most dangerous monsters of the forest. With them, the ritual will be unstoppable."

  Bragoz regarded him with disdain, his fangs visible beneath a cruel smile.

  "So you intend to use me as bait for your clumsy scheming?" he asked coldly. "Very well, vampire. If your plan fails, I will tear out your soul and offer it to my brothers."

  "Understood, my lord," Dimitri replied with a servile bow, though his thoughts burned in silence.

  (One day… I will free myself from you. And when that day comes, hell will learn who I truly was.)

  The shadows seemed to whisper his thoughts as they advanced. Among the trees, fifty cult members moved like specters, carrying torches of green fire that illuminated faces twisted by devotion and madness.

  The air grew heavier as they ventured deeper into the Cynophelia Forest, where mist concealed roots as large as walls and creatures whose eyes gleamed in the gloom. Their objective was clear: to draw out the forest's most powerful monsters—even the dreaded Forest King, a magical Omega-rank beast so ancient and devastating that its awakening was considered a natural calamity.

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  Corrupt mages, branded warriors, and summoned beasts formed that accursed army.The ritual was about to begin.And with it, a new darkness loomed over the kingdom of Carpatia.

  Meanwhile, Lusian traveled toward the city of Acropolis, accompanied by his personal escort. The end of the month was approaching quickly, and with it, the promise he had made to Elizabeth: a date.

  The sound of hooves striking cobblestone echoed around him as his thoughts wandered. He knew he had to prepare himself mentally—the princess was a storm wrapped in silk, and resisting her would not be easy.

  In his previous life, Elizabeth—who had become the Demon Queen—had been the wallpaper on his computer, a symbol of power and desire. Now, sharing a date with her in the flesh felt surreal. The thought made him smile… and tremble.

  Their meeting would take place in a theater, one of the most refined in the kingdom. Lusian wondered what kind of "activity" the princess had planned. Would they watch a play? A concert? Or something far more elaborate, befitting her unpredictable nature?

  At dusk, he entered the theater. The building contained seven halls, each adorned with crystal chandeliers and red curtains that absorbed the dim light. Elizabeth had told him she would be waiting in Hall Four.

  When Lusian stepped inside, he found her sitting alone at the center of the grand room, illuminated by a golden spotlight that fell upon her figure. Her posture was elegant, but her gaze was defiant.

  "Are you going to perform for me, dear princess?" Lusian asked with a mischievous smile.

  "Yes," Elizabeth replied, raising an eyebrow. "And you will perform for me as well."

  "You mean you reserved an entire theater just so we could play at acting?"

  Elizabeth lifted a book, her expression dangerously charming.

  "This is one of my favorite novels. I want to perform it with you. I will be Lilith, the maiden, and you will be the wicked duke who tries to corrupt her and destroy the kingdom."

  Lusian arched a brow."Don't give me such grotesque ideas, Princess."

  "Oh, don't worry," Elizabeth replied with a wink as she headed toward the dressing room. "Just follow the script… and don't improvise too much."

  Lusian sighed and picked up the script. The story was surprisingly intense: a duke obsessed with a servant who embodied purity, both trapped in a dangerous game of seduction and power.

  When Elizabeth returned dressed as a maid, Lusian's heart skipped. The contrast between her humble attire and her regal bearing made her even more captivating.

  "Do you approve, my dear duke?" she asked playfully, dipping into a teasing curtsy.

  Lusian felt his self-control falter."You're pushing me to my limit, Princess."

  "It's only a small performance. Shall we begin?" she said with a dangerous smile.

  The performance began. Their voices filled the empty hall, echoing through the theater. As the story progressed, the characters seemed to consume those portraying them. Elizabeth moved with a blend of feigned innocence and calculated charm, while Lusian embodied the tempting duke with unsettling ease.

  Then came the pivotal scene: the kiss.

  Elizabeth waited nervously, expecting Lusian's usual hesitation. But he did not waver. He pulled her by the waist and kissed her firmly, without doubt.

  For a moment, time stood still.

  (If I die in this world someday, at least I will carry this memory with me.) Lusian thought.

  He pulled away slowly and smiled."What's wrong, Princess? You seem to have forgotten your lines."

  "Idiot," Elizabeth whispered, her heart still racing.

  "That's not the next line. I believe we should repeat the scene," Lusian said challengingly.

  "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" she asked, torn between amusement and confusion.

  "I'm merely fulfilling the princess's wishes. Or do you regret it?"

  "Do you think I would back down from something like this?" she retorted, lifting her chin.

  "Prove it, Princess," he said, stepping closer once more.

  They repeated the scene three times.

  But in the end, Elizabeth no longer knew whether they were still acting—or falling into something far more dangerous.

  For years, she had enjoyed provoking him, playing with his shyness and watching him blush. But now, Lusian was different. Defiant. Confident. Able to meet her gaze without looking away.

  And that disarmed her.

  As the stage lights slowly dimmed, Elizabeth realized this game was no longer a simple jest. She had crossed an invisible line…

  And for the first time, she was no longer certain who held control.