Andeias clawed his way back to consciousness, his mind a fractured mosaic of blur and shadow. He surveyed his surroundings with hollow eyes—a rustic, weathered hut. The air was thick with the scent of aged wood and a biting, unnatural chill. Suddenly, the door groaned open, spilling a pale, wintry light into the room along with a stranger.

  "Who are you?" Andeias managed, his voice a dry rasp.

  "I am Julian, Deputy of the Ice Knights," the man replied, his tone steady and commanding. "Welcome to the Frigid Realms, and to the brotherhood of the Ice Knights. You have finally arrived."

  Andeias bolted upright, his breath hitching. "Wait... there was a man and a girl with me. Are they safe?"

  Julian’s gaze was firm. "Tend to your own wounds first." After a pause, he softened. "They are fine, by the grace of God."

  "So... we are in the Zero Ice region?" Andeias asked, shivering.

  Julian offered a grim smile. "No. This is White Snow Village. The Zero Ice lies three kilometers from here. They call it that because the cold there is a living thing—intense, unnatural, and hungry. It has earned its infamy through blood and frost."

  He stepped closer, his expression clouding. "Now that you are among us, I ask you to forgive Emily for what she did. She has walked through a valley of shadows... a past so dark, even I might not have survived it."

  "It’s alright," Andeias sighed, the weight of his exhaustion returning. "I don’t know her history, but if she is safe, I forgive her."

  "I don’t want your forgiveness!"

  The voice sliced through the room like a blade. Emily stood in the shadows, her eyes burning with a cold fire. "Did we not agree you would wait for my signal? If you think I am here seeking mercy, you are mistaken. If it were up to me, I would have ended you where you lay, but I was stopped. I am no demon."

  Andeias looked at her, his gaze narrowing. "Then tell me—what is that mark upon you? That demonic brand?"

  "It is no mere decoration," she spat, her voice trembling with hidden rage. "It is the Mark of a Lord."

  "Then which of us is truly in the right?" Andeias challenged.

  With a sudden, fluid motion, Andeias gripped his sword and tore away the heavy wrappings. The room fell into a suffocating silence as the naked steel was revealed. Julian gasped, his hand tightening instinctively on his own hilt.

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  "This is the source of the tattoo," Andeias whispered. "A curse I cannot abandon."

  "How?" Julian breathed, his eyes wide. "How did you break the chains of that blade?"

  "I didn't break them," Andeias replied grimly. "They chose me."

  "You all say the same lies!" Emily cried out, her composure shattering. "You hide in human skin, waiting for the moment to betray us... just like you betrayed my mother!"

  "Emily, enough," Julian warned. "There is no need to exhume those ghosts."

  "No! He must know," she hissed, her voice cracking. "Because I have sworn a vow: No demon shall draw breath while I still do."

  Julian sighed. "Very well. But remember your promise."

  Emily nodded, her gaze drifting into the distance as the memories began to bleed through.

  "My father was a simple merchant," she began, her voice hollow. "Life was ordinary until we met a man who called himself Li. I was only five. His tales of distant lands enchanted me; I visited him twice a day to hear him speak. But one day..."

  She closed her eyes, the scene unfolding in her mind.

  "My mother was baking, and my father was away. I wanted to surprise Li with a treat, but his door was locked. I thought he was sleeping, but my curiosity was a curse. I found a way in... and I saw him, not as a man, but as a nightmare. Horns, eyes like burning coals, and that same Mark of the Lord etched into the bone of his neck. He was feasting on a corpse."

  "I was paralyzed. When he heard my breath, he didn't growl; he smiled. He vanished into the shadows, leaving the carnage behind. I tried to run home, but he was already there, wearing his human mask once more."

  The memory shifted to the confrontation at her home. Her mother, sensing the darkness, had shielded Emily. Two knights, Arthur and Lux, had arrived to intervene. A brutal battle ensued—steel against bone, earth magic against demonic wrath. But the demon was relentless. Even with a spear through his skull, he rose, laughing, his body knitting back together with the blood of his enemies.

  "In the forest, my mother ran with me," Emily continued, her voice a mere whisper now. "But he was faster. He stood before us, drenched in the blood of the knights, and offered a wager."

  The demon's terms were sadistic: He would eat her mother alive, inch by inch, and if the mother made a single sound, he would devour Emily next.

  "My mother agreed... to save me. She held me one last time, stroking my hair. 'My strong girl,' she whispered. 'Promise me you won't cry. No matter what happens, do not move.'"

  "And then... the grinding began. He started at her feet. I watched as he tore into her, crushing bone and sinew. My mother... she endured it all in a silence that screamed louder than any cry. She watched me, her eyes pleading with me to stay still, until there was nothing left but her arm."

  The demon had laughed, tossing the severed arm to the child. "If you want her sacrifice to mean anything," he had told her, "eat."

  "I wanted to scream until my lungs burst. I wanted to hold her, to find safety in her touch, but she was gone. I took her arm, my tears falling silently on her cold skin. I couldn't bite... I just pressed her blood-stained fingers to my lips, begging her not to leave me."

  The demon had handed her a knife then. "You are the reason she is dead," he taunted. "If you have courage, mark yourself."

  "When he left, I didn't just mark myself. I stabbed my own hand in a frenzy of grief and hate. 'I hate them,' I screamed into the emptiness. 'I will kill every last one of them!'"

  Emily’s story ended not with a sob, but with a

  Silence so heavy it felt like stone.