The demon's sobs faded with the night. Li Feng lingered in the shadows, lips curling. "I swear, the Academy owes that thing an Oscar. What do you think, Mordo?"
Mordo stepped out of concealment, his cloak rippling with residual spell-light. His face was carved from stone. "If demons took to Hollywood, actors would starve. And the effects crews too—the fiends come with fireworks built in."
Li Feng didn't need to ask how long Mordo had been there. He knew the weaves of those cloaking spells well enough to feel them brushing past. Mordo had seen everything. Now the man's eyes bored into him, demanding answers.
Li Feng gave a half-shrug. "It tried to tempt me. Offered lessons in sorcery, a little trip down the dark path."
Mordo's gaze flicked back toward the cage. He'd seen the spellwork, the illusions thick with soul-hooks. That wasn't cheap parlor magic. That was the Dark Dimension's signature.
His voice was low, dangerous. "The fiend was teaching you charm magic?"
Li Feng grimaced, admitting it without words.
Mordo froze. A novice dabbling in shadows was one thing. But this? Dark resonance—clear and undeniable. And the Ancient One had allowed it? The contradiction shook him to the core.
Li Feng spoke first, tone blunt. "You're right. My magic leans toward shadow. Dark energy is what I'm best at."
The air between them tightened. Mordo's hand drifted toward the relic at his hip, fury simmering beneath a thin veneer of calm. "And you couldn't choose another path? Must you embrace rot just because it clings to you?"
Li Feng bit back a sigh. So, this was the Ancient One's plan: less his trial, more Mordo's. Great. Guess I'm playing guidance counselor to the future zealot.
He asked simply, "Does using dark energy make me evil by default?"
Mordo's grip whitened. His voice cut like a blade. "Corruption is inevitable. Touch it, and it hollows you out. You'll drown in it, body and soul."
Li Feng waved it off. "That's the story, sure stare into the abyss, it stares back. But did you see me cast that spell? No. I memorized it, nothing more. I'll analyze, build safeguards, and only then test. That's caution, Mordo. Not surrender."
Mordo shook his head. He'd seen prodigies say the same before they burned. None were exceptions.
But Li Feng pressed harder. "Energy isn't moral. People are. You condemn darkness because others failed. But what if someone resists? What if I succeed where they didn't? Knowledge of countless worlds—maybe that's enough."
He jabbed a finger toward the camp. "Look at them. The Church brands deserters, heretics, children—all damned. Yet they're the ones fighting to save the world. The so-called righteous burn villages. Tell me who embodies good."
Mordo's jaw tightened. "In time, the Church changed. With science, reform—"
Li Feng snorted. "Ask Copernicus. Bruno. Galileo. They burned or silenced truth, and still it endured. Maybe dark mages found a path too—before zealotry like yours erased them."
Mordo's laugh was bitter. "So, I'm the Church now? A butcher in saint's robes?"
Li Feng shrugged. "Not a butcher. But narrow enough to kill first, question later. History doesn't forgive zealots."
The firelight of the convoy came back into view. Mordo's silence stretched, his face a storm. At last, he muttered, "I'll tell the Ancient One. Until then, I'll watch you. If you falter—if you lean too far—I'll end you myself."
Li Feng rolled his eyes. "Purify, kill—dress it up however you want. Fine. Keep your watch. I know the risks. Until I'm two hundred percent sure, I won't touch the darkness."
The night burned low with suspicion. Behmen and the priest circled questions at Mordo, but he answered none. He only sat at the fire, silent, staring into the dark.
Li Feng's words gnawed at him still comparing him to the Church, calling him rigid, blind. It stung because it wasn't entirely wrong. Was he becoming stone, destined to crumble like the ruins of dogmas past? Or could he shatter and rebuild himself into something new?
The thought unsettled him. He looked at Li Feng—yawning, careless, as if none of this weighed anything—and frowned. Maybe that was the point. Maybe change wasn't thunder and lightning. Maybe it began with a crack.
Mordo pressed a palm to his temple. All he'd meant was to warn the boy off demons, and somehow, he'd ended up being lectured himself. Where had that turned?
His gaze found the caged girl. The demon's mask of innocence was flawless, but he remembered Eckhart's broken body. Whatever it was, it could kill with a whisper. If Li Feng insisted on learning in shadows, then Mordo would keep watch himself. Better his eyes on every spell than letting a demon teach unchecked.
At dawn they buried Eckhart, brief and quiet. The company moved on, leaving an extra horse behind. It should have been a blessing, but Li Feng could barely ride. He slid and wobbled until Felson, tired of watching, barked a crash-course in balance and reins. Only then did Li Feng manage a trot.
Truth be told, he preferred running. Riding was cold. The sleeveless tunic he wore let every gust slice his arms raw. At least running built heat, sweat to ward off the chill. He glanced at Mordo riding atop the prison cart, comfortable, composed, not even wind touched. Must be nice, he thought bitterly. Vacation while the rest of us freeze and then glare at me by firelight like you're scarier than the demon.
Two days later, their trail ended at a canyon. A rope-and-plank bridge spanned the void—rotted wood, sagging ropes, an invitation to disaster.
Li Feng peered down into the abyss and eased back a step. In the "movie" this bridge didn't collapse until after everyone crossed. But now? Two extra bodies at the party. He didn't like the math. His eyes flicked to Mordo. Portal, maybe?
Mordo was weighing the same thought when Behmen strode onto the planks, testing the bridge with his own life. Step by step, he crossed, reached the far side, and raised his hand. The path was clear.
With the knight's signal, the prison cart rolled forward, ropes tied to steady its weight. The whole span bowed low. The priest gripped the rear line until his palms split and bled—then cried out and dropped it. The shock tore the rope from Li Feng's hands as well.
The cart lurched. The bridge screamed under strain. Somehow, impossibly, it held.
Behmen and Kai staggered, nearly tumbling into the canyon. They clung to the fraying side ropes. Behmen hauled himself up with sheer grit. Kai dangled, slipping. Then the demon's hand shot out, catching his arm.
The girl's frame shouldn't have been able to hold a man's weight. But there she stood, steady as stone, dragging him back.
Li Feng smirked coldly. That wasn't rescue—it was theater. A child's hand doesn't stop a knight from falling. That was the demon tightening its disguise, reminding everyone how much they needed its "host."
Mordo slid up beside him. "What was that?"
"Nothing," Li Feng muttered. "Just thinking how comfortable that cage must be. Doesn't risk the bridge, doesn't sweat a step."
Mordo gave him a sideways glare. "Keep that up and I'll stick you in a cart for a tour through Kathmandu." His voice dropped, steel beneath it. "I've been watching. He doesn't care about us, the plague, any of it. Just the monastery. Doesn't that bother you?"
Li Feng's smirk said enough. He'd heard the warning.
The cart creaked halfway across. Behmen barked orders, tying ropes to the horses, dragging the weight forward. Inch by inch the wheels found purchase, until at last they rolled onto solid ground.
Together, Li Feng and Mordo sliced the trailing lines. The bridge sagged and swung loose, cut from the far anchors—no return, no pursuit.
On the safe side, the group collapsed, gasping. Li Feng sat trembling, remembering the plank that had cracked beneath his foot. Next time, he vowed, bathroom break and portal.
Felson wiped his brow, scanning the forest ahead. Twisted branches, shadows thick as tar. "Where are we?"
Their guide, Hegmar, spat the word like a curse. "Wormwood Forest."
His eyes darted to the cart. He'd seen the girl's unnatural strength. Suddenly the priest's sermons about witches didn't sound so far-fetched. A seed of intent rooted in him: kill the witch, end the curse.
And behind bars, the demon smiled.
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