Chapter 73 : The Pact Unbound

The mist of the Abyss, tainted by a demon’s touch, did not merely obscure the path—it twisted the very fabric of space itself. It was as though the concept of “being lost” had taken form and reached its fullest, most merciless potential.

Were it only dense fog, one might still stumble forward in a single direction. But this was something far crueler. Within the mist, subtly warped by infernal will, a traveler might find themselves circling the same spot endlessly, or worse—witness a companion vanish into nothingness though they had been at their side but a heartbeat ago.

Yet this nightmare was not constant. Such phenomena only arose when the demon actively exerted its power—a fleeting distortion, limited by the presence of its malign will.

To a priest, however—especially one who could purge the demonic taint embedded within the fog—this mist was but an annoyance. A barrier, yes, but one that would crumble given a little time and light.

“Damn it! They’re breaking through… already?”
Moritz ground his teeth as he caught sight of the advancing lights drawing ever nearer.
The demon, whose role it was to continually thicken the mist and delay their pursuers, had grown dazed—perhaps overwhelmed. The time bought by illusion and shadow was vanishing quicker than expected.

“We should’ve killed them from the start! To hell with negotiation!”
“And here I thought you believed it could be settled with words,” Curtis  murmured with a smirk.
Then, with deliberate mockery, he added, “Are demons getting lazy these days? Or was that all it gave you? I thought House Moritz was already showered in gold… Did it not bother to empower you properly before you made your offering?”

“You insolent little—!”
Moritz’s fury spiked, but there was little he could do. Even as he fumed, Curtis ‘s magic remained active, tugging at him like invisible chains. He had no choice but to follow its pull.

Thus, trapped in this deadlock, the demon-hunting party finally broke through the fog and emerged into a clearing.

FWOOSH!
At the vanguard stood Mayra, a staff of radiant light gripped in her hand. From its head bloomed a brilliance so fierce, it carved through the lingering mist like a blade of dawn.

This was the Sixth Miracle—The Radiance of Glory, a divine feat required for bishopric. While sacred power often shimmered faintly when invoked, this was something else entirely—light made manifest, solid and commanding. Even Curtis , who had heard only legends, now stood witness for the first time.

“Brother Curtis !”
Lilia, who had stood beside Mayra, bounced toward him in giddy relief—only to halt after a few steps, her joy dimming.

Not even her unwavering optimism could dress up the ruinous scene before her.
Though Curtis  had ceased his attack once the party arrived, and Moritz’s spells had likewise faded, the scorched, sodden ground and the tang of burnt air bore witness to the chaos that had erupted just moments prior.

“You weren’t trapped in there, were you?”
“I stepped in willingly,” Curtis  replied with calm finality.
“What… in the gods’ names happened here?”

Mayra’s tone was colder than any had heard before, her face hardened as she gently steadied Lilia’s shoulder.

“When we heard the two of you had vanished, we rushed here as quickly as we could… and found this. Explain yourself.”
“I was attacked by Lord Curtis ,” Moritz cut in, his words curt, stripped of context.

It was a calculated move—one meant to sway the opinions of the warriors, many of whom were of the Brutan bloodline, including Kane. But it was a thin ploy.

No one here was naive. The scene before them defied simple explanations. No one could move—not even Kane, who disliked Curtis  greatly. The truth hung in the air, heavy and unresolved.

“So you leave out the part where you lit the first fire?”
Curtis  sneered and turned to Mayra.
“No need to complicate things, Your Grace. Lord Moritz made a pact with a demon. When he failed to lure me into the same, he tried to silence me. He failed—and this is the result.”

“Is this true, Lord Moritz?” Mayra asked.

“The demon said something curious,” Curtis  added, tapping the watery barrier around them. “That once a pact is forged, betrayal becomes impossible.”

The spirit behind the wall ceased its assault at his touch.

“Khrrhhh…”
The demon, weary from the magical onslaught, slowly rose from its crouch in the waterlogged pit. Curtis  cast it a fleeting glance and continued.

“I’ve been pummeling that wretch for a good while. Let’s switch roles. Lord Moritz, why don’t you show us your fire?”

Silence.

The accusation was not a challenge—it was a sword aimed straight at the heart.
To the innocent, the mere suggestion of a demon pact would ignite furious denial and immediate retaliation. Yet Moritz stood frozen.

With every moment he remained silent, the atmosphere grew more suffocating.

“Father!”
Kane finally erupted.

“For once, say something! Deny that damned lie!”

Arrogant and hot-headed though he was, Kane’s pride stemmed from reverence—for their house, and the man who led it. The idea that his father would strike a bargain with a demon was unbearable.

He was not alone. The rest felt it too, their trust wavering in silence.

Still, Moritz did not speak.

Mayra let out a soft breath.
“Why would a man as sharp as you reach for the hand of a demon? Surely you knew how this would end.”

“Ahaha… ahahahaha!”
The one to break the silence wasn’t Moritz, but the demon, now recovering with unsettling speed.

“This is why servants of the gods are mocked as fools! Spouting judgments while knowing nothing!”

“Silence, filth,” Mayra snapped.
Her gaze, once tinged with pity for Moritz, turned to steel.

“You still flap your tongue despite being beaten like a dog. Shall I rip that forked thing from your mouth?”

“I speak only the truth, oh blind vassal of heaven,” the demon snarled.
“You parrots chant your prayers and call it wisdom—but you cannot begin to fathom the torment of those who fall into shadow!”

Its eyes sharpened, locking onto Curtis .

“My one mistake… was believing that brat of a mage was mature enough to know suffering. That he could grasp the truth in my offer. But alas, he was too stupid to understand.”

“Wasn’t too stupid—just too smart to fall for your trash,” Curtis  replied with a tilt of his head.
“What, you think every mage rolls over the moment a demon whispers in their ear? If that were true, we’d keep mages out of the cradle altogether. There may be reasons one gives in—but to claim those who resist are fools? That’s laughable.”

“Well said.”