The silence after Lagun's death was unnatural.
There was no peace, or calm... it was something different and heavier.
The kind of silence that follows a eulogy spoken without words.
The kind of silence that marks the boundary between an old world and something new, raw, and cruel.
Asmodeus stood still, the last ashes of Lagun's form fluttering around him like charred feathers. He exhaled slowly through his nose, the frost in his breath curling unnaturally to the ground instead of vanishing into the air.
His eyes weren't on the fallen.
But fixed on her.
Riel.
The Demon Empress.
The cold storm-womb of this war.
She watched him without blinking, lips parted, halberd dragging slightly in her grip.
Her reflection shimmered across every crystal around the battlefield — mirrored a thousand times, staring from every angle.
But it wasn't anger that reached her first.
It was longing.
