* * *

In the thick silence that followed, the pure-hearted girl of the North asked innocently, “What’s gay?”

The lunatic, ever shameless Jerome, began to reply, “It’s when two men—” but was cut short when Marchen, unable to contain his fury, roared before Jerome could finish.

Freya, who had been beaming brightly moments after the life-threatening confrontation, invited us to dinner.

“As Marchen’s friend, you’re my friend, too. We’ve known each other since we were young, almost like siblings.”

The moment Freya started speaking, a strange hint of regret flickered in Marchen’s eyes.

Surprised by the unfamiliar expression, I barely had time to process it before the villagers started calling for Freya.

“Lady Freya, please, look at my wife’s illness!”

“My son might die; I beg of you, Lady Freya!”

Despite the desperate pleas, Freya didn’t look troubled at all and held the villagers’ hands, one by one.

Kneeling in the snow to tend to the sick, Freya truly looked like a saint.

‘It’s hard to believe that Belial dwells within that body.’

The line of patients seemed endless, and Marchen, unable to bear it any longer, pulled Freya away, finally allowing us to leave.

Freya just smiled sheepishly, looking like nothing more than an ordinary human despite Marchen’s frustration at her inability to say no.

‘Well, Jerome seemed normal enough when we first met, too.’

Catching my gaze, Jerome smiled as if asking if I had something to say.

I pulled his arm closer, addressing Marchen.

“Marchen, I’d like to ride the carriage alone with Jerome. Would that be alright?”

“What?”

Marchen narrowed his eyes, and Freya looked at me, baffled.

Tilting my chin defiantly, I continued.

“No offense, but I don’t want Jerome spending a second alone with a beauty like Lady Freya.”

Marchen raised an eyebrow, puzzled by my uncharacteristic boldness.

Ignoring him, I held Jerome’s arm firmly against me. Jerome chuckled softly and added,

“Sorry, my wife’s a bit possessive.”

Despite everything, we were growing perfectly attuned.

But just as I leaned into our pretend act, Jerome’s hand subtly brushed down my waist, sending a chill through me.

‘Keep it together. If Freya starts suspecting us, it’s all over.’

When we arrived at Freya’s manor, I took Jerome’s outstretched hand and climbed into the carriage, pulling the blackout curtain over the window.

“Now, explain yourself. How did you know Freya was possessed like I was? Did you actually receive a prophecy from Maya?”

In the dark carriage, Jerome’s voice had a sharp edge to it, and after a brief hesitation, I tried to sound as convincing as possible.

“Yes, it’s true. I recently received a prophecy from Maya… that Freya would fall into heresy.”

Jerome’s eyes wavered slightly at my firm tone.

After a moment’s hesitation, he gave a faint smile and tilted his head.

“So, all that talk about Lacmolini and the Starlight Festival was just an excuse, huh? I thought it was a bit too cute a reason, especially for my ‘wife.’”

Ignoring Jerome’s grumbling, I went straight to the point.

“Jerome, draw your sword.”

Jerome flinched but unsheathed the blade from his hip.

The well-maintained sword gleamed with a blue light.

Captivated by its beauty, I instinctively reached out to touch the blade but stopped when Jerome grabbed my wrist.

Our gazes met in the air, his unreadable eyes prompting me to ask cautiously.

“Don’t you want to be a hero again, with this sword?”

“……”

“I can make you a hero.”

“Being called a hero doesn’t matter to me. What matters is the cause.”

Jerome, still holding my wrist, pulled me closer.

His sudden movement left me frozen, his deep voice ringing in my ear.

“Carlisle became a hero to protect the Kaisar Empire. Luke became a hero to defend the Eileen clan. Then, what about me?”

“……”

“Tell me, in your own words, what I should become a hero for.”

I couldn’t answer Jerome’s question right away.

Silence filled the carriage as it rolled to a halt in front of Freya’s mansion.

The longer I stayed silent, the weaker Jerome’s grip on my wrist became.

Just before he fully let go, I lowered my gaze and said quietly,

“For me.”

“……”

“Become a hero for me.”

Even as the words left my mouth, I felt my face flush with embarrassment.

Jerome, who had been so stoic, let a faint smile tug at the corner of his lips.

Hearing the murmurs of people outside, Jerome leaned his back against the carriage door to block them and whispered.

“If Freya is completely taken over by the demon, my hypnosis won’t work. My magic only affects human souls.”

Jerome’s hand slipped into my robe pocket, and before I could react, he snatched the sleeping potion I’d prepared.

I glared at him.

“What are you doing? Give it back.”

I reached for the potion he’d taken, but when he opened his clenched fist, the vial was already gone, vanishing as if by magic.

Smiling slyly as I grumbled, Jerome added,

“Freya isn’t as naïve as you, Jeanne. She wouldn’t fall for a simple sleeping potion like this.”

“Then what do we do?”

“We take a gamble. We hope that there’s still a shred of humanity left in Freya’s soul. I have a hidden card. If I can just revert Freya’s soul to human, even for a moment…”

A chilling gleam appeared in Jerome’s eyes.

“I can hypnotize her. Make her spit out the demon inside her.”

---

Crash!

The sound of glass shattering disrupted the peaceful dinner, shifting the atmosphere in an instant.

Freya’s gaze moved from the unconscious Marchen and Jeanne to Jerome, who was the only one unaffected.

Freya nonchalantly spilled her wine onto the floor and said,

“So, you knew of my existence all along.”

Instead of replying, Jerome calmly cut a piece of meat on his plate, ignoring the chaos around him.

Watching him eat so elegantly amid the mess, Freya shrugged in bemusement.

“I doubt you invited me to dinner just to dine alone with me. Are you trying to kill me? Or maybe the opposite? Not that it would matter; Freya already gave me both her body and soul. Even if her soul isn’t hers anymore, her body and strength are all Freya’s.”

“……”

“Even if you managed to kill me, you’d still be guilty of murdering the High Priestess of the North. That would be inconvenient for you, right? You went through all the trouble of escaping that underground prison.”

Freya rose from her chair and slowly approached Jerome.

“If you don’t harm me, I could make things enjoyable for you. After all, we share the same soul, in a way. I understand the loneliness of not having anyone who truly understands you.”

Freya’s voice was sympathetic as she leaned against him, pressing close.

Her pale hand trailed along Jerome’s thigh.

Without a word, Jerome grabbed her wrist.

“Sorry, but I’m married.”

“……”

“And, I prefer a flatter chest.”

Jerome readjusted his grip on the small crystal vial in his hand, flicking the cork off with his fingernail.

Instantly, he poured the holy water onto Freya’s hand.

Smoke rose from her skin as she screamed and staggered back.

“Aahh!”

The smile vanished from Jerome’s face as he dropped the empty vial to the ground.

It shattered with a sharp crack, and he grabbed Freya by her hair, lifting her head.

“Look at me, Freya.”

“Hah…ahh…”

“Are you really going to let your body be taken over like this?”

Seeing Freya writhing in pain, unable to open her eyes, Jerome sighed.

“Don’t you want to protect the child inside you?”

Freya’s body flinched.

Her crimson eyes, unfocused until now, suddenly regained clarity.

Jerome wiped the holy water off her hand with his sleeve and pressed a shard of glass into her palm.

“Show me. Prove that your soul hasn’t vanished yet.”

“……”

“Come on, be a good girl.”

Freya’s tear-streaked face twisted in anguish.

Clicking her tongue, she muttered,

“You’re wasting your time. I told you—this woman’s soul already belongs to me.”

Jerome released her wrist and stood up, casually wiping the holy water that had splashed onto his hand.

Freya’s pure white hair began to darken.

She rose unsteadily, her voice cold.

“What are you trying to do?”

“Oh, I just wanted to see if Freya was really gone.”

At his calm response, Freya raised an eyebrow, catching onto his intent.

“You wanted to make sure, didn’t you?”

“Well.”

“Quite the wicked hobby for a mere human.”

Freya gave a bitter laugh at Jerome’s response.

“Jerome, we need Mephisto, the one inside you. He’s the strongest among our kin.”

“……”

“If it weren’t for that wretched woman, Sacre, Mephisto’s power wouldn’t have weakened. She’ll be the first to go. Once she’s dead, Mephisto will fully take over your body.”

Jerome rubbed the reddened patch on his hand, where the holy water had burned his skin.

Glancing at the mark, he asked with a smirk,

“What exactly do you want me to do?”

“It’s simple. Open the gate to the other world with us.”

“……”

“When that gate opens, millions of monsters will flood this realm. They’ll kill all the humans, and we’ll claim this land as our new home.”

Freya wrapped her arms around Jerome from behind, pulling him close.

Jerome absentmindedly examined his fingernails.

Freya, noticing his indifference, leaned in and spoke in a seductive tone.

“If you cooperate, you’ll be our king. Women, wealth, power—all of it will be yours. Whatever you desire.”

Jerome’s eyes widened slightly.

He turned around and firmly gripped Freya’s shoulders, causing her to gasp in surprise.

“Ah—”

“Are you saying you’ll make me a king?”

At Jerome’s blatant display of ambition, Freya let out a bitter laugh.

Despite her hopes, she realized he was just as flawed as any other human, even with Mephisto sealed within him.

Tilting her head to one side, she spoke.

“Strange. I thought you loved that woman.”

“Well, if I did, I wouldn’t have put sleeping draught in her glass, would I?”

Freya eyed Jerome suspiciously.

Sensing her doubt, Jerome’s expression darkened as he lowered his head.

“You know, I was once a hero like you. But at some point, I realized… in the end, I was just a tool, nothing more. I’m tired of being controlled. Now, I want to be the one in control.”

“…”

“So make me king. If you do, I’ll gladly cooperate. I’ll help open the gates to the otherworld.”

Jerome’s beautiful smile unsettled Freya, who hadn’t responded yet.

She reached across the table, pushing a knife toward him.

“Fine. Prove it.”

Freya lifted the head of the unconscious Jeanne, her neck falling limp under the influence of the sleeping draught.

She shot a cold glare at Jerome, who watched with a blank expression.

“Kill her with that knife. Right here, right now.”

* * *