"Nekarim…?"
"They're bottom-feeders in Hell," Blaze said coldly. "The lowest rung of the demon hierarchy. A species bred from failure and suffering."
Kaida frowned. "But demons… they've been extinct for decades."
Blaze's lips curled faintly—neither amused nor surprised. "Exactly. So tell me—what is the weakest of all demons doing here, in the human world?"
Grrrrrr.
The thing on the floor shifted. Bones creaked. Joints clicked in unnatural ways.
Kaida's breath caught.
It wasn't fear she felt. It was something worse—an instinctual revulsion, like standing too close to a decaying body that shouldn't still be twitching.
"Kaida." Blaze's voice hardened. "Examine her. Find the source of her magic. Test her body. Extract her blood. Use her however you must. No one comes here. No one sees. No one interferes."
Kaida couldn't answer. A shiver crawled down her spine.
I'm supposed to dissect this thing? This living thing?
Her thoughts fractured as the thing snapped violently—its patience gone. The floor groaning beneath it—each movement creaking like old bones. Unnatural. Wrong.
Kaida staggered backward, panic rising—only to freeze at what she witnessed.
Blaze moved.
In the space of a blink, he was there, a blur of shadows and force.
His palm clamped down on the girl's skull, slamming her into the ground with such overwhelming strength that the cave trembled. A crater formed where her head struck stone.
What terrifying force… this is the first time I've seen it in action.
Without pause, he shattered both her legs. Iron rods materialized in his hands—he drove them through her palms, pinning her to the cave wall like a specimen.
Then came the scream.
It wasn't human.
It wasn't demonic either.
It was raw agony, a sound that tore at Kaida's soul. Her hands clamped over her ears. Still, the shriek drilled into her skull, clawing at her mind like broken glass.
Stop it. Stop. I hate this.
"Kaida."
His voice was calm again. Too calm.
She looked up—and he was already standing before her. Collected. Unbothered.
"She won't resist anymore. Do what you need. Try not to kill her. Not yet."
Then he turned.
And walked away.
Kaida collapsed to her knees.
Her chest heaved—but no breath soothed her. Despair wrapped around her like chains of cold iron. Tight. Suffocating. Absolute.
"Blaze!" she cried out, voice cracking. "What is she? Why do you want this? I won't do anything until you tell me the truth!"
Klak.
The cave groaned. Dust rained down from above like a silent threat.
He's annoyed.
"Kaida," he said, voice low. "I need power. All of it. Every drop this world can give me. You have a natural talent for magic. You'll study it. Bring me results. You need know nothing beyond that."
And then—he vanished.
Kaida just sat there as he disappeared. Her pulse thundered. And something inside her shattered.
He's obsessed. Truly. I understand now—this man… he's power-mad. He will burn everything to ash if it brings him more.
And more than ever, she feared the one thing he might one day discover— Her daughter.
She looked at the broken creature, still sobbing faintly, pinned like an experiment gone wrong. A twisted part of her wanted to end it—if not to save the girl, then to spare her from further pain. But her hand would not move.
She couldn't disobey Blaze.
For the next six hundred days, Kaida returned to that cave. Day after day.
With each day that passed she broke the girl more and more—testing, draining, reshaping. Every day she lost a little more of herself.
Blaze would show up from time to time, without a warning he would appear and check how things are going.
But not everything Kaida discovered was shared.
A secret field of energy born from the girl's blood—Kaida learned to replicate it. She kept it hidden from Blaze. She fed him answers, yes—but only the ones that satisfied. Not the ones that empowered.
And then, one day, it ended.
Kaida entered the cave like always. But this time, silence greeted her. The girl's body was cold. Pale. Bloodless. Dead.
Kaida stood there. Stared. Empty.
This is what I am now, Not a mage. Not a mother. Just another monster playing god in the dark.
Water dripped from the cave ceiling, slow and steady—like the cave itself mourned what had died there.
Daichi… I'm sorry. I won't see you again. The only place waiting for me is Hell.
***
It has been a month since the Nekarim died and Kaida's research stopped.
Blaze still had business in Mordrath and so he left Kaida to be for some time.
She rested. She thought. She tried not to remember.
But in truth, The last two years had changed her. Twisted her. Made her stronger—though at what cost, she no longer knew.
A little more… a little more and I can do it.
A knock on the cabin door pulled her from sleep.
It's so early, the sun is barely up. That noise..
"Tafari? Rey…?"
She stepped outside, still groggy.
Tafari grinned. "Yo! Been a while, huh?"
Rey didn't even glance her way—he was too busy petting the wolf curled beside him.
What the hell is a wolf doing here...
Kaida frowned. "What are you two doing here?"
"Blaze sent us. Said it's time to go home."
Kaida blinked. We're going back already? Blaze hadn't said anything.
Still… she wasn't complaining. She wanted out of this place.
From the sky, a familiar roar.
That's...
The Basilisk descended. Its wings blotted out the sun. Blaze stood atop it like a king returning from war.
"Come on," he said. "We're leaving."
"Blaze is actually coming back with us? That's a first," Tafari said, eyebrows raised.
Rey and Tafari climbed aboard without hesitation. Kaida lingered, then followed, her steps slower—less certain.
Everything happens so fast with them..
"Up," Blaze said, and the dragon surged skyward.
Kaida gripped the edge of her seat, heart pounding. Even now, even after everything, his presence unsettled her—cold and distant, like a puppeteer tugging invisible strings.
She pushed the unease down and spoke anyway.
"So," she asked carefully, "did something happen? Have you finished everything you wanted to do here?"
Blaze turned. His eyes—cold, glinting with obsession. "I received word about a girl. Unique power. Exceptionally rare."
Kaida's breath stilled.
"And guess what. She's in Eldrida... your village, isn't it?"
Her blood turned to ice.
No.. this can't be.. why now after all this time.
"An ex-Camelot official who works with Mordrath tipped me off. He said he heard rumors years ago—paid a villager for info. Sent assassins. They vanished. So did the informant."
Tafari raised a brow. "So he gave you this old info now?"
"I promised him—if it turns out true, I'll help him with a certain matter. if this power is indeed real I must get my hands on it."
Kaida sat frozen, pushed to the edges of their conversation—like none of this involved her. Like her worst nightmare was just casual small talk.
Then Blaze looked at Kaida again.
"You had family there, didn't you? A husband. A child. Funny coincidence."
The words were casual—too casual. But Kaida knew better. With Blaze, nothing was ever said without purpose.
Her pulse spiked. Did he know? Was he testing her?
She kept her voice even. Controlled.
"They died in a raid. Bandits. That part of my life is over."
Blaze's stare lingered… then moved on.
"I see. Either way, I've already sent word to Viper. If he does his job, she'll be ours before we even get there."
Rey scoffed. "I'd trust a drunk rat to steal a jewel before I'd trust Viper."
Tafari snorted. "Damn. You got beef with him or something?"
Rey didn't look up. "Shut up."
Their voices faded into the background.
Kaida's hands clenched.
No. Not yet. Please—not yet.
Her pulse roared in her ears. She didn't move. Didn't speak.
All she could do… was pray.
***
Kai stood at the forest's edge, still reeling from Kaida's story.
Everything she told him—what she'd done, who was coming—felt like a storm gathering overhead.
We're in deep.
"Kai!"
A voice tore through the trees—high-pitched, frantic.
Lyra burst into view, hair wild, eyes wide with panic.
"Kai, someone attacked me! She's crazy—dangerous—and I think she's after the village too and—"
She stopped mid-breath.
Her gaze slid past Kai.
"…She's standing right next to you?!"
Kai didn't turn. Just sighed, deadpan.
"Perfect," he muttered. "This day just keeps getting better."