There was a village of two hundred people, and the most popular men among them were the richest and the drunkard. Two men who never seemed to care much about the other, and yet, one envied the other's freedom, while the other craved the other's wealth.

It was nothing but an ordinary morning when the drunkard woke from his hard and rough mat and brushed his shoulders in exhaustion from the sheer pain and bruises the mat left on his skin.

However, before the drunkard could leave his hat, his wife, the very woman he believed had ruined his life, came to him with a message.

"The richest man has the quest for you, husband." She said happily. "And if you succeed, there will be a huge prize for you."

The drunkard's eyes lit up for a moment, he snatched the letter and read it. It was true. Perhaps, he could finally get the richest man's worth.

Like a child before their long-awaited present, he hurried to the richest man's house. And there, everyone awaited him. The village chief, his drinking companions, and the entire village.

"Take your seat," the richest man said and gestured toward a long dining table with a dozen seats around it.

The drunkard's eyes lit up, and he took his seat.

"You can only take one." They said, "Do that, and we have a very big prize for you."

The drunkard's body giggled with thrills. Excited.

However, there were two types of booze before the drunkard. One was a booze he had yearned for his entire life, the very first booze that got him into alcoholism. And the other was a booze the drunkard had grown to love.

The booze from his youth, a rare and delicious drink with a little bittersweet alcohol, was hard to come across and extremely expensive. Hence, this was the very booze that got the man into alcoholism, and if he had been asked a day before this predicament, he would have traded his wife for that nostalgic feeling.

However, the other drink was the very one that had helped him survive this miserable life of his, and whenever a drop of it touched his tongue, he was relieved of all his problems.

And now, before him sat the two very booze that had shaped his life. And as the rules said, he could only drink one.

'What should I choose first?' The man wondered.

A few glances to the right, circling back to the left again. Minutes passed, then hours. The sun moved, his body weakened, and his mind ached from exhaustion.

Eventually, the man? He collapsed. Dropping dead to the floor.

Not from hunger.

Not from thirst.

But from indecision.

***

"What do you think?"

Seraph and Halo occupied one of the castle's towers. Halo was seated while Seraph stood before him, back against the wall, a warm smile playing on her lips.

She had come to find Halo working on his emotions by shielding a candle's flame through the night, one of the training sessions Fade had put him through before leaving.

She didn't say much before dropping a story on him. And she wanted an answer?

Halo sighed.

"He was trapped between two worlds, the past and the present, and his refusal to let go of either is what destroyed him."

He gave his words a beat.

"He was imprisoned between his former self and the self he now carries."

The Child of Deceit's smile widened.

"Decent attempt, Shadow of Death. But you missed an important point. Try again, and be precise."

Halo exhaled deeply and scanned through his mind for a moment.

"A man who does not know what he wants is doomed to be destroyed by the choices he's forced to make?"

Her smile went even wider, as though this ordeal was a milestone for her.

"That's correct, Halo."

Halo's eyes narrowed slightly.

"What does that have to do with me, though?"

She took her seat.

"You've spent days trying to make sense of what Fade taught you. I figured this would help you understand your next step."

Halo stared at her for a while.

Four days had passed since Fade's departure, and the training was showing effects. Despite the persistent uneasiness that had plagued him for over a month, and despite his cold nature, Halo maintained composure most of the time. He was no longer easily annoyed or pressured.

But he was yet to forge anything out of that, like what Fade asked of him.

In his past life, the forest had shaped him into something animal-like, he'd built his existence around pure survival. But while this world's training was more brutal and humiliating, it incorporated psychological elements his previous training had completely lacked.

Seraph was right. He couldn't treat this training like his forest training. One had taught him to be brutal and unhinged, stripping away his emotions. The other taught him to remain calm and relaxed even in danger, and to understand and harness his emotions as tools.

He tried to smile, but his cold nature robbed him of that.

"I get it now, Seraph. I was looking at this wrongly."

"Don't worry… I was just trying to help?"

Halo's expression darkened.

"But you created that story just to help me understand."

Seraph shook her head in disapproval.

"No. It's something I've always told myself to make sense of things… to view situations from another light. You're the first person I've ever said it to out loud."

Halo met her with silence, lit up his candle, and resumed his training.

He heard her, but he didn't have anything to say. Rather, there's been something on his mind for quite some time.

"I want to give you Sunday once our Purpose is over."

The Child of Deceit's expression darkened.

"What do you mean?"

Halo concentrated on his training.

"You got me Tough and Sunday… and you risked your life killing Sunday. Let me repay that. I want it to follow you. It can hide in the shadows and come when you need it."

Seraphim was taken aback for a moment.

"I'll manage with the Ancient One. But you… you might actually need Sunday."

Halo finally turned to her.

"I will. But take it regardless. The Ancient One only comes when you're seconds from dying. Sunday can actually keep you alive."

Seraph sat still, visibly conflicted. Taking Sunday… she couldn't seem to decide.

"And how will you get it back?"

"You told me we'd go to the Sapphire Coast to watch the stars. That has to mean we'll meet again… right?"

Seraphim remained silent for a moment before taking a deep breath.

The instant Halo turned to the candle, his skin crawled. The light went off despite shielding it perfectly.

His head jerked toward Rascal Land. A cold breeze swept over him, and he knew instantly: something was wrong.

"Something's happening. I think the Absolute Sinner is awake."

The words left him calmly.

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