Nephis studied Amon in silence. For all she had seen of his abilities, he still looked disarmingly harmless, a deception that made her guard slip if she wasn't careful. She quickly reminded herself. Amon was too unpredictable to trust, even if his words carried an unsettling weight of truth.
She didn't like him. But with their paths intertwined, compromise was the only way forward. And, at least for now, Amon felt like their only chance to leave this place with minimal casualties.
With a quiet sigh, she lingered at his side. Hesitation crept in, but finally she spoke, her tone flat and restrained:
"Can we talk?"
Amon's brow rose in mild surprise. Then his mouth curled into a pleasant smile as he stood and offered a polite, almost theatrical bow, his hand gesturing toward a seat.
"Be my guest, my lady."
His voice carried an unsettling charm that grated against her composure. Still, Nephis inclined her head and sat, feeling his curious gaze linger on her. After a moment, he settled beside her, his presence pressing uncomfortably close. It wasn't as though anyone would find it easy to sit with a psychopath like him.
Her eyes drifted toward the crimson spire in the distance, gray irises flickering with faint white sparks.
"I was curious… why?"
Amon tilted his head, feigning confusion. That false obliviousness only irritated her further. Cowardly pathways were, it seemed, natural provokers. With their trickery and confusing words, it wasn't much of a surprise.
"Why do all this?" she repeated, her voice sharper this time.
Amon exhaled, leaning back against the cold stone wall. He looked calm, but the weariness in his face was plain, he was exhausted. He hadn't rested after the meeting, diving straight into experimenting with ritualistic magic. At least it had worked.
"Why…" He gave a small, almost wistful smile. "What do you think would have happened if everything went the way Cassie saw in her vision? That's why I went against you. Of course, there were other reasons…" His gaze flicked downward, his voice softening. "Leaving Luna behind to die, that's something I can't easily forgive. She's the most important person in my life. And then… there's Medici. I wanted my friend to become lord. You could say I did it for him, too."
Nephis absorbed his words in silence. Fair enough, she thought. She would have done the same for Cassie… or Sunny.
Her jaw tightened. In truth, it had been Cassie who set it all in motion. If she hadn't misread her vision, Luna would never have been abandoned. Cassie had foreseen Luna clashing with her and Sunny, a scene that only came true because of the warning. Convinced Luna was an enemy, she had pushed Sunny to leave her behind.
And Nephis… she hadn't returned for her, either. Not after she'd broken free from the mind hex. She had left Luna as well.
Unwittingly, desperately trying to avert fate, Cassie had ensured the prophecy's fulfillment. By trying to kill Luna, she had created the very enemy she feared...
Nephis knew how ruthless Cassie could be. For all her softness, for all her unassuming demeanor, she was perhaps the most merciless of them all.
It was ironic. All of this chaos, all of this bloodshed, had spiraled from one mistake.
Amon's eyes lingered on Nephis's downcast expression, then shifted toward the towering crimson spire. His smile faded into something more serious.
"You do know what would have happened up there, don't you?"
Nephis's gaze followed his, her face hard as stone as she stared at the impossible scale of the spire.
"I would have made Sunny a slave…" she said quietly. Then her voice sharpened, flat but cutting. "Which I already did. So tell me, Blasphemer... what really changed? It's not as if you wanted to save us."
Amon laughed, remembering the absurdity of how Sunny's enslavement had actually unfolded. Nephis's frown deepened, her displeasure plain.
"Is it funny to you?" she asked, voice cold. "Ruin someone's life, and laugh about it?"
"You're one to talk." Amon's grin widened, his head tilting as if amused by her false righteousness. Then, leaning back lazily, he went on:
"Besides… I already know you'll stay in that spire while everyone else escapes. Ah, what a tale it will be. Everyone returning, but Changing Star left behind, carrying the tragedy on her shoulders."
Nephis turned her head toward him, her expression unreadable. But something shifted in her eyes, as though a suspicion she had long carried had just been confirmed.
"As I thought…" she murmured. "You hypnotized Cassie. That's how you knew. You extracted information from her without anyone knowing, didn't you? The shard memories, Gunlaug, the alliances, the spire… even Sunny's secret and our future."
Amon remained motionless, his expression unreadable, though the faint twitch of his mouth almost betrayed him. Wow… that's some deduction there, Sherlock, he mused, a faint smile tugging at his lips. As the proud practitioner of the Dao of Bullshitery, he had no choice but to oblige.
"Who knows…"
Changing Star's lips curved, though there was no trace of amusement in her smile, only weary resignation. His vague words were confirmation enough. She was, after all, the only one who had truly graduated from Sunny's school of deception and lies.
But across from her sat a professional bullshitter whose delusions were so grand he almost believed them himself. With Swindler's eloquence and a tongue trained in deceit, Amon could lie as easily as breathing.
"As I thought," she said flatly, her gaze sharp. "There's no other explanation… hypnosis. What a disturbing ability."
Amon stroked an imaginary beard with exaggerated gravity, nodding sagely.
"Oh, you have no idea."
Nephis smiled faintly, though it was bitter rather than proud. She didn't seem as arrogant, as unshakable as before. Maybe because Amon had humbled her or at least pushed her to a point she hadn't expected.
Being impaled against a wall by iron rods wasn't exactly the kind of trial that left one feeling invincible.
At the very least, Amon could admit this much: she wasn't as savage, as uncompromising as she had been in the novel. The Changing Star in the Forgotten Shore had been ruthless. This Nephis… not so much.
She let out a soft sigh, her silver hair catching the sunlight, turning it into a gleaming halo.
"…I'm a little surprised," she admitted quietly. "You don't seem as terrible as before."
Amon blinked, caught off guard. Then his eyes widened. Wait, what?
Hah… Haha, seriously? He laughed aloud, shaking his head in bewilderment.
I'm charming, though… At least that's what Luna told me. She wouldn't have lied… Yeah, no way she would… Would she? Hmm… Nah, I'm just paranoid. I'm a very handsome, charming, and polite young man. With the air of a charlatan... No. Not a charlatan. With the air of nobility. Yes. That's better.
"Terrible? Like how?" he asked with curious smile.
Nephis shrugged, hugging her knees and resting her chin against them.
"I don't know… you were a little scary, if I'm honest. Unpredictable and insane enough to burn everything to ash." She hesitated, then her mouth curled into a faint, awkward smile as her gaze flicked toward him.
"And burning things is supposed to be my job. Medici's too. But you…"
Her smile grew wry. "You're even more of a pyromaniac than us."
"...Well, I was thinking about that too," Amon admitted with a faint grin. I mean, I've probably burned more than the biggest fire users ever did. So… does that make Nephis and Medici frauds? Imagine being upstaged by a Marauder with no fire abilities. That's embarrassing.
If I actually had their kind of firepower, my plans would… shit, they'd all be so much easier.
Still, he let the thought slip away, lips twitching in humour. No. I'm satisfied with Error. Any other power would feel… wrong. And without theft, none of this would've been possible anyway.
"I guess I did," he said aloud, his tone light. "Still… I'm not that wicked…"
Nephis chuckled. It wasn't warmbut bitter, melodic sound, yet somehow soft to his ears.
"Not that wicked? Tell that to the seven hundred Sleepers who think otherwise." She leaned back against the cold stone, stretching her legs out, eyes drifting shut as though dismissing him entirely.
Amon's scowl deepened. Her laughter stuck in his chest like a thorn, sharper than he cared to admit.
How? Bro, hooow?! I'm literally an angel! And I mean literally, not even lying! Why am I the wicked one? Why not you guys?
He let out a low groan in his head. I'm kind of a gentleman, so it's… ugh, forget it.
"…Yeah. Whatever. I don't care."
Nephis opened her eyes again, glancing at him, then frowned… only to freeze. Wait… was he pouting?
That lunatic? Pouting?
Her gaze lingered despite herself. The crossed arms. The irritated expression. Dark eyes gleaming with mischief and bitterness. Curly hair framing his face with almost unfair softness. The crystal monocle and refined coat that should have made him intimidating… yet instead lent him an aristocratic charm. But even so, he was unsettling. He had that kind of presence.
Nephis had figured that out long ago. She too had such a presence. Hers could inspire people, give them hope of salvation. Medici's was created for war, infecting his followers with courage and arrogance. Sunny's was quiet, making him seem almost invisible while Kuna's was fearsome and malicious; Nephis could feel it clearly, even though Luna had the heart of an angel.
And Amon… Amon's presence was disturbing and wrong. There was something about it she still couldn't name.
Still… he's cute.
Wait a second. Cute? No... What the hell? He can't be cute.
Nephis tore her gaze away quickly, biting her lip. What am I even thinking? She sighed and shook her head, almost forgetting the real reason she had come here. Slowly, her thoughts dragged her back to Luna… and the gnawing guilt that never left her.
Even without their apologies, Luna had forgiven them. Sure, she never said it outright, but her actions over the past weeks told Nephis enough. She wasn't treating them any differently from others, as if she had already moved on and had a heart big enough to forget the bitterness of the past. That somehow made Nephis feel even more conflicted. Luna's forgiveness, in a way, highlighted her own immaturity.
Still… she remembered the fight. How close Luna had come to devouring her. How brutal, horrifying, and monstrous she had been in combat.
And before that… when they first met… Luna had shielded them again and again. Acting as bait, taking hits that should have killed them, feeding them, teaching them and healing their wounds. She had never let Nephis use her flames because Luna knew how much they tormented her.
Remembering all of that, a deep sense of sorrow rose in Nephis, and the words slipped out before she could stop them.
"…I'm sorry."
Amon nodded absent-mindedly… but a few seconds later, his eyes widened in disbelief.
Nephis… apologized? Now that was surprising… He thought, but Amon wasn't foolish. He knew she wasn't apologizing to him, nor was there any reason to do so.
"Sorry to who? Luna? Why don't you tell her that?" His grin widened, mocking yet curious. "Or is it that you don't have the courage, so you came to me instead… to smooth things over?"
Nephis lowered her gaze, refusing to meet his eyes.
Amon sighed, shaking his head in bewilderment.
"It's fine… I'll do something about it. And you don't need to apologize to me either. We were enemies. We fought for our ambitions and beliefs. Apologizing for fighting for something you believe in… is stupid. If I had lost, then what? Would you have apologized?"
At his words, she shook her head stiffly. She wouldn't have. If she had won, she wouldn't even be thinking about right and wrong, she would have completely forgotten the enemies she killed, focusing only on the siege. In a way, Amon was a bit merciful, even if he was sadistic since he had spared their lives.
Losing had forced her to reflect.
"…Thank you." It was the only thing she said.
Amon's expression remained calm. He didn't need enemies begging for forgiveness. Sure, Nephis wasn't an enemy anymore, but the whole thing felt… wrong. As if all their struggles had been stripped of meaning. It was never about right or wrong anyway, it was about who stood at the top.
All this apologizing just made things complicated and awkward. No one was truly right, and no one was truly wrong. His right was her wrong, and her right was his wrong. Amon would fight for what he believed in and for his own ambition. If he lost, then he was wrong. If he won, then he was right. The rest was meaningless. Who cared about right or wrong when they ended up dead?
Clicking his tongue, he pushed himself up, stretching after the long night. Then he glanced down at her, offering his hand.
"Alright. Up you go, my fair lady. This is getting way too awkward."
Nephis blinked, then allowed herself a small, amused smile. Gentleman till the end, huh? With a quiet sigh, she took his hand and rose.
"Still… Maybe we aren't friends. But Luna is my... friend. And I'm thankful for it."
Amon rolled his eyes inwardly and nodded.
"Yes, yes. Now let's go…" He paused mid-step, glancing at her with a expressionless face. "Oh, and by the way... no one has to stay in this godforsaken shore anymore."
Her eyes widened in disbelief and shock as she heard his words. Did he mean…? Was it possible that he meant the vision…? Maybe he knew…
"Wait! What do you mean by that!?" she demanded, her voice sharp.
Amon walked ahead, one hand lazily waving in the air, the other buried in his coat pocket.
"Just trust the Blasphemer," he said coldly, his voice loud enough for her to hear. "I'm pretty good at humiliating suns."