鈥淭here is no other way.鈥� Vald turned. For one breath, his face was human again 鈥� soft, tired, afraid. 鈥淰olume eight ends here, Haldyn. Not with a battle. With a choice.鈥�
Vald stepped past him into the dark corridor. His footsteps made no sound. That was new. Or old, Haldyn thought. Something the sword took from him and never gave back.
And the spell screamed.
鈥淵ou鈥檙e bleeding again,鈥� Haldyn said. crimson spell volume 8
鈥淒on鈥檛 touch anything,鈥� came the low warning behind him.
He turned. Prince Vald stood with his cloak torn, one arm wrapped in blood-soaked linen. His eyes still flickered gold at the edges 鈥� the demon鈥檚 remnants watching from inside.
Haldyn鈥檚 throat tightened. 鈥淭hen we find another way.鈥� 鈥淭here is no other way
鈥淚f I break this,鈥� he whispered, 鈥渢he demon dies. But so does the part of me that remembers you.鈥�
He drew his sword not to strike, but to swear.
Vald stopped before it.
Haldyn reached for Vald鈥檚 hand 鈥� the one not stained by claw marks. 鈥淭hen I鈥檒l write the next page myself.鈥�
The mirror pulsed.
They descended into the chapel where the spell began. The crimson sigils on the walls had changed 鈥� twisting into shapes that breathed. In the center, a mirror waited. Not glass. Ice made of frozen blood. Not with a battle
The moon hung low over Valdrigal, fractured like old bone. Haldyn pressed his palm against the ruins of the castle gate, feeling the curse pulse beneath the stone. Alive. Hungry.
