Ten minutes earlier...
"Don't move."
A gun was cocked against the back of her skull.
"You've gone far enough, witch."
Erica clenched her teeth. The waning moon reflected the glistening light of fireflies that now appeared, a few hovering just around Erica as she stood in utter disbelief.
Yes, she hadn't been able to use her sigils to create traps or echo chambers due to Marker's Sickness. But she still didn't slack—perhaps it was the thought that she couldn't rest unless she was prepared. Even exhausted, she'd kept working. The area around her was littered with hidden pitfalls, plants that bloomed poison when stepped on, and wind-carried scents to sniff out intruders—a perk of her demonic heritage.
Yet despite all this preparation, someone had sneaked up on her. Whoever this was wouldn't be easy to deal with.
Erica:"...I'm guessing by the fact I'm still alive, you don't intend to kill me."
The gunner seemed to pause—at least, Erica thought so. She still hadn't faced her captor. She glanced at the water's reflection and saw a figure roughly her size. It wasn't quite right to call them a man—though they had the physique of a fully developed human male, their enlarged pupils and sly grin suggested something... immature. Their attire, distorted by ripples, showed an oversized violet cloak held by armored plates at the shoulders, a chest hidden beneath a motley coat of bright emeralds, and fingerless gloves adorned with jingling bells.
Gunner:"Not at all, witch. In fact, I'm here with an offer."
Erica:"Go on."
The gunner put the safety on their pistol and holstered it. Erica seized the opportunity to leap back several feet, her sigils already under her shoes and the last on her knife. Her defensive instincts had her scanning the area for clues about how the gunner had gotten so close.
The gunner simply laughed.
Gunner:"Haha, I didn't know you'd be this jumpy."
Erica:"And why wouldn't I be? You got close without me noticing."
Gunner:"Well, witch, infiltration is my specialty. You see, I'm a hitman. Azazel the Tormentor."
Sweat pooled under Erica's chin. Azazel wasn't just a hitman—he was the hitman. No one had ever seen his face, yet they knew him by the signature chrysanthemums he left behind. For a century, his name had spread havoc among royals—despite their immense power and wealth, they knew Azazel could end entire bloodlines if he wished. And now, that infamous figure stood before Erica with an offer she couldn't refuse without risking death.
Erica:"What's your proposal?"
Azazel:"What? Not even going to question who I am?"
Erica:"I don't need to. As one of Darkblood, I can sense your endless malice."
Azazel started clapping, wiping fake tears from his eyes.
Azazel:"Oh, thank the heavens! I don't have to prove myself. Do you know how irritating it is to convince these ruffians?"
Erica:"...I-I can imagine."
Truly, the real Azazel was nothing like the rumors. Where stories painted him as a horrid monster, the reality was a mismatched jester.
Azazel:"That's neither here nor there. I'm actually here to thank you."
Erica:"What?!"
Azazel:"For the massacre you orchestrated."
Erica:"I didn't!"
Azazel:"Oh, so you say—but just as you sense malice, I sense it in you."
Azazel locked eyes with Erica.
Azazel:"Between you and me, you're the real devil."
Erica flinched.
Azazel:"But enough chit-chat, Ms. Imposter—or should I call you Mrs. now?"
Azazel let out a haughty laugh. Erica's grip tightened on the ring she wore.
Azazel:"During that wedding, my target was the late Queen of the Air Bewails. It would've been difficult with all those guests, but my client wanted her dead that day. So thank you, Mrs. Witch."
Erica:"If you don't mind me asking... who is your client?"
Azazel placed a finger over his lips.
Azazel:"It's a secret, dear. Just know I have a new target now."
He pointed at the ring on Erica's finger.
Azazel:"Neil. Dead or alive."
Erica's blood boiled.
Erica:"What?!"
Azazel:"Oh, you know—Hero of Prophecy, Slayer of the Demon Lord, Savior, Bringer of Peace, and so on. Does that ring a bell?"
At first, Erica considered running—she wasn't ready to face such a being. But now, all logic fled.
Erica:"You... bastard. You just called him a Savior, and now you want him dead?"
Azazel:"No, I merely recited what others say. Personally, I don't believe in true saviors. In my experience, no one is truly clean."
Erica:"Then you've never met Neil."
The air began to stir. Trees swayed violently, rocks rolled, and water rippled away from Erica. The fireflies and otters that had been peacefully enjoying the night scattered—animals always knew when something unnatural was about to awaken.
Erica:"Listen here and listen well—you will not touch Neil."
Azazel yawned.
Azazel:"And I thought you were smart. But if you insist on getting in my way, I won't hold back."
The air stilled. Erica struck first.
She tossed her sigil-imbued dagger at Azazel, who effortlessly parried it with the back of his hand. The blade clattered to the ground as Erica closed the distance. In a flurry of strikes, she used the sigils beneath her shoes to amplify the force of each kick. As she pivoted, the sigils flared, granting her unnatural momentum. Even as Azazel blocked, he realized each blow carried the residual force of the last—an endless cycle of escalating brutality.
He tried to retreat, but a knife collided with his back. His instincts drove him forward—only to meet Erica's full-force kick to the stomach. His body crumpled toward the lake's edge.
Not giving him a chance to breathe, she swiftly drew more knives, imbuing all five with her sigils. With a flick of her wrist, one flew and embedded itself in Azazel's left leg. Crimson stained the earth. Another struck his right.
Erica:"Listen. I will never..."
A third knife pierced his left hand.
Erica:"...Ever..."
A fourth pinned his other hand.
Erica:"...Let you take him."
The final knife hovered above his head, inching closer. Blood trickled from his mouth as an insane giggle bubbled up.
Azazel:"Wow, I knew you were strong—but not this strong."
Erica:"Listen. I don't want to kill you—but understand, Neil's head is not yours to take."
Azazel:"Hmm, maybe so. But—"
BANG!
Erica collapsed, a searing pain piercing her lungs.
Erica:"H-How?"
The hovering knife fell as the sigils returned to her. Azazel slowly began prying the blades from his limbs.
Azazel:"Little witch, you still have much to learn. I thought Daddy would've taught you better."
Finally free, Azazel stood.
Azazel:"Didn't he tell you to go for the kill? Had you done so, you might've survived. But you hesitated."
Erica tried to stem the bleeding by pressing sigils into her clothes, creating a makeshift seal.
Erica:"N-No... You did something. There's no way you could've done this without trickery."
Azazel:"Or perhaps you still have wit. Yes, I made preparations. First, I needed you to exhaust your sigils—your survival skills mixed with them make you hard to ambush. So I whistled to nearby scouts. Did you ever wonder how they found you so easily?"
Erica:"..."
Azazel:"Then, once close, I needed to incapacitate you. I don't enjoy drawn-out fights—especially against geniuses like you. So I angered you. Lied to you."
Erica:"S-So you don't want Neil?"
Azazel:"Not at all. I wanted you. My client needed me to test something on a demon. Unfortunately, after you and Neil's crusade, they've become rare. So you were the lucky winner."
Erica:"T-Then why not finish me earlier? You could've taken the shot."
Azazel:"Oh, I could have—but then the experiment wouldn't work."
Erica:"What experim—"
Slowly, Erica's insides pulsed. Her organs twisted; her veins bulged.
Erica:"What did you— Ugh!"
Azazel:"Do you like the Luni? A worm that feeds on negativity. I needed you enraged and half-dead for it to take effect."
Erica felt it—a part of her body moving unnaturally. She looked down and saw it: a bulge in her stomach, writhing rapidly. A parasite.
Azazel grabbed her wrist and dragged her toward the lake's center.
Azazel:"Now the party can begin."
Her vision blurred. She was changing—into something familiar. Something she'd long avoided.
Azazel:"And this was the person who killed the Hero of Prophecy? Impossible. Truly, this transformation will enlighten me on that impossibility."
Then—something snapped.
She vanished.
In the next instant, she was beside Azazel. His body was flung aside like paper, crashing against a boulder on the far shore. The creature now glaring at him was no longer Erica.
Azazel:"Hahaha! Yes, Witch! Can you feel it now? The rage—the sorrow! Let it all out!"