Marcus stood near the broken entrance, his neatly combed hair catching what little light flickered from the ruined lamps.

A faint stubble lined his jaw, making him look more tired than usual.

Still, his voice remained calm and steady.

He gestured with a gloved hand towards the blown-out entrance to the underground.

"Circle the perimeter."

He instructed, his voice low and calm.

"And have Justine and Ramiel secure the outer area. I want a full containment seal while making sure no one gets in or out without us knowing."

The woman beside him, Estella, gave a swift nod.

Her face was slightly plump, but her eyes were sharp which gave her an intelligent look.

"I knew you'd say that. I already informed them to set up the perimeter the moment we arrived."

A small, knowing smile touched her lips.

They had worked together for a long time that she could often anticipate his commands.

Marcus didn't reply, his silence a form of approval.

He watched as Estella took a few slow steps deeper into the cavernous space, her boots crunching on debris.

She closed her eyes for a moment, letting her senses expand and reach out, feeling for the invisible traces left behind by powerful magic.

A deep frown etched itself onto her face.

"The residual energy here... it's quite vile."

She murmured, her voice tight with disgust.

"All sorts of inhuman and disgusting spells were used here. I can feel them, layers upon layers of it."

As a witch from the Coven of Solace who bore the Sin of Sorcery, she was a master of magical theory and detection.

The atmosphere was filled with the residue of sin power, each one a different shade of corruption.

Faint traces of coldness and another power seemed to be there as well.

Her senses focused on one particular signature spell that she surmised to be the cause of the destruction.

Her eyes slowly open as she analyzed.

"This spell... it's..."

She stopped.

A name flashed sharply in her mind as her lips started to form the word out of habit.

"Liber—....!"

The first syllable had barely left her lips when her own hand flew to her mouth in an attempt to cover it.

Her eyes widened in pure terror.

A cold sweat immediately beaded on her forehead, trickling down her temple.

She had almost done it. ..

She had almost said the full name!

A cold, immediate sweat broke out on her forehead.

Her mind, trained for years in witchcraft and demonology, naturally knew the impending danger had she completed the name.

She was a witch from the Coven of Solace, and her Sin of Sorcery made her an expert on spells.

It was an infamous spell called the Liberdolor!

Origins of the spell were omitted by the higherups within the Coven of Solace, but she knew of its destructive capabilities.

It was a verbal type of spell that only needed to be uttered out loud.

What made it even more dangerous was that any being, be it demon, witch, or human, could trigger it!

Though the explosion and effect of the spell would be minimized if it were casted by an ordinary human... they were still beings capable of generating sin, which ensured that the spell had a source of energy to draw the explosion from.

She didn't need to say anything as Marcus stood beside him and immediately understood her act of panic upon hearing the first half of the word she was about to utter.

A third, potentially catastrophic explosion would have ripped through the area, and Estella would have been at its center.

They both stood there for a long moment, the near-death experience hanging silently between them.

In their line of work, dealing with demons and forbidden witchcraft, they danced on the edge of life and death every day.

Tonight, Estella had almost caused them death...

"Be more careful..."

Marcus finally said, his voice softer than before, laced with a concern he rarely showed.

Estella nodded, her usual confidence lowered by the dangerous mishap.

"Right. I apologize for what happened just now..."

Unbeknownst to them, Seth had quietly walked past without being noticed as he swiftly exited the warehouse.

Estella, who was sensitive to spells briefly turned her back as though she vaguely felt something.

However, realizing there was nothing there, she shook her head slightly, blaming the feeling on her own rattled nerves and the oppressive, evil energy clinging to the place.

...

"Huff..."

Matthew breathed tiredly as he walked slowly across the wide grassy plain, staring at the dark line of trees that marked the forest.

Even without any witch senses, he could vaguely tell that there was something wrong and sinister inside the forest.

Such a thing made Matthew's skin crawl.

He wanted to turn back, to run to the lonely safety of the open field...

However, as though remembering Seth's advice, Matthew squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breathe, filling his lungs with the cool night air.

Then, clutching the oversized jacket Seth had given him tightly around his small body, he took a hesitant step forward, and then another, until the shadows of the trees swallowed him whole.

Inside, the forest was even stranger.

The place was too still and too quiet.

There were no normal night sounds such as the sounds of crickets and owls.

The path behind him seemed to vanish into mist almost immediately.

He didn't know how long he had been walking. It could have been minutes or hours; time felt stretched and thin here.

He was just a child, and his mind, already tired and scared, couldn't fight off the forest's oppressive energy.

He wandered deeper, a desperate hope for a city or a kind person his only guide, but with every step, his body grew heavier.

Soon, his little legs could carry him no further.

His breathing was heavy, and his eyelids drooped.

He stumbled towards a large tree and slumped down against its rough bark, the jacket serving as a thin blanket.

Within moments, the unnatural exhaustion pulled him into a troubled sleep.

He did not stir when a woman in a pristine white dress materialized from behind, her approach completely silent.

Priestess Putrescence looked down at the sleeping boy, her head tilted in clinical curiosity.

"Just a normal child..."

She murmured to herself, her voice a soft and relaxed.

She raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow.

It was puzzling.

How had this ordinary, fragile thing survived two massive explosions and the bloodthirsty demons in the den?

There did not seem to be any marks of power on him that she was familiar with.

"A child blessed by luck and fate, perhaps?"

She concluded, a slow, cruel smile gracing her lips.

"As a Priestess of the Coven of Abomination, I often treasure oddities like you. Do not worry, little one. I will make sure you are put to good use. You will turn into a fine and useful demon..."

She stretched out a pale, elegant hand.

As she did, the skin began to darken, turning a rotten, glossy black, and a foul, corrupting sin began to gather in her palm.

She reached towards Matthew's forehead.

Just as her fingers were about to touch his skin, the atmosphere suddenly turned odd.

It wasn't a sound or a light, but a sudden, violent pressure in her mind.

Her vision went black, replaced by a flash of images so maddening and insane that her brain recoiled.

She saw things with too many eyes, heard screams that weren't sounds, and felt a despair so profound it threatened to unravel her very soul.

She flinched back violently, her other hand flying to her temple as she poured her own considerable willpower into shielding her mind.

The horrific images faded, leaving her shaken.

When her vision cleared, a young man stood between her and the boy.

He wore a simple black tracksuit and a plain, unsettling sheep mask that hid his face completely.

"You are—"

Her startled voice was sharp with alarm and anger.

He cut her off, his tone conversational, as if they had just met on the street.

"Ah, so it's a fake hell's gate?"

He said, sounding genuinely disappointed as he glanced around.

"I was really hoping it would be a real one this time. The fakes are always so... underwhelming."

Putrescence was utterly confused and infuriated by his casual dismissal of her.

"Are you a witch sent by the Coven of Solace?"

She demanded, trying to regain control of the situation.

"Do not interfere with the Coven of Abomination's matters. This is not your concern..."

He ignored her completely, his masked head tilting.

There was silence between them as neither spoke.

"Little Priestess," he said, his voice suddenly dropping to an amiable tone.

"Do you want to know about your future demise?"

The moment the word "demise" left his lips, Priestess Putrescence felt a violent, terrifying lurch in the threads of her own fate.

While her Sin of Filth did not specialize in fate-weaving, her high circle granted her enough sensitivity to feel when her future was being directly threatened.

This was no ordinary witch... This was an existence she could not fight!

Without a second thought, her body acted on pure instinct.

Her beautiful form began to decompose at an incredible speed, crumbling into a cloud of dust and invisible, airborne germs, seeking to scatter on the wind and escape.

As her consciousness dispersed, his final words echoed after her through the fabric of fate itself.

"You, little priestess, shall meet death on the day you witness true madness and true love."

Even from afar, already reforming in a safer location, she felt the curse settle upon her like a shroud.... a predetermined endpoint now etched into her destiny.

Her face turned grim.

The sheep-masked man did not give chase.

He simply stood there, looking down at the still-sleeping Matthew.

He let out a long, low hum as he deeply contemplated a certain matter.

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