Yarin's POV:
The black light surged, dazzling like the sun for an instant, then condensed into a dizzying black spark, only to abruptly vanish.
People watched in astonishment at the changes within the ritual circle, as if questioning: had it failed again?
No, I could feel it clearly, a dark force inside me was attempting to communicate. The ritual was successful; I had successfully summoned the evil god-or rather, his spokesperson.
"Good morning, dear Prince," Linda's voice echoed in my ear. "I've been waiting for you for a long time. You've arrived much later than I anticipated."
"...Do you realize you're just clinging to your last hope? Azazel is destined to die, and even the gods can't avoid that fate."
Surprisingly, Linda didn't get angry at my statement about Azazel's impending demise. She laughed disdainfully. "Foolish boy, you know nothing. Father isn't a simple-minded god with an empty title. He foresaw this day long ago and cleverly arranged for himself a helper."
A foreboding feeling spread in my heart.
I looked at the people around me; they stared at me blankly, seemingly wondering why I was still standing in the ritual circle. I suddenly realized that not everyone could hear Linda's voice because I was the one performing the ritual. Only I could hear this conversation.
"You've played your part exactly as expected, my dear," she continued. "This saved me a lot of trouble. Although you're a bit late, it's normal for students to be tardy. Father won't be as undisciplined as you. He's so wise and far-sighted, and the newcomers will bring him a brand new future..."
Linda's voice began to take on an eerie madness, muttering absurd delusions more and more incoherently, completely immersed in her own world.
At this point, the werewolf grandmasters also discovered the truth from my unusual behavior and started to analyze the magical fluctuations enveloping me to trace their source.
However, Linda seemed oblivious and gave me a strange feeling-as if I were witnessing that mixed-blood witch, eternally lost in madness and foolishness. Rationality had permanently abandoned her.
In her chaos, she seemed to confuse me with Azazel, sometimes expressing affection for her 'father' and sobbing and apologizing for her uselessness. "Father, forgive me. I'll make amends for everything I've done, and we'll be a happy family..."
She laughed and cried, sending shivers down my spine. "All you need is a little rest. Your old shell is no longer suitable for you. I've brought your new body to you..."
Now, I finally realized what that chilling feeling was.
Linda had deliberately led us into this ritual. She had blocked all the paths we could use to find Azazel, appeared and disappeared at will, and constantly provoked us with human lives. She wanted to make us resort to the ritual as the only option.
She couldn't accept Azazel's impending death and was preparing to give him a new body- that would be me.
The conduit Azazel had built in my soul years ago was finally working. The evil energy brought by the ritual was crazily eroding my spiritual world. Although Mom was purifying me with all her might, she couldn't remove it all. Once we lost all the evil energy, the medium connecting us with the evil god would disappear, the ritual would fail, and we wouldn't be able to find Linda's location.
The dark, chilling mist was invading the goddess's courtyard. Flowers withered, streams froze, and birds in the forest suddenly transformed into countless black crows, swooping fiercely into the raging darkness.
Their feathers were burning, but the flames weren't frightening; they were gentle and warm, and the mist had nowhere to hide in their purification.
I suddenly realized that the fiery birds from the dream were the guardians the goddess had given me. They guided me, urged me, and now they were saving me. Love and protection had never left me, providing me with endless courage to confront the darkness.
But the moonlit courtyard was just an illusion. The goddess's remaining power was limited, and most of it had been exhausted, cleansing me during my rampage.
The fiery birds were insufficient, and the black, cold mist spread arrogantly throughout the Moon Palace's courtyard. The magnificent buildings turned into ruins from my dreams, and the land became barren and lifeless.
In this desolate world, I saw a hunched figure.
He was no longer handsome and strong, and his once elegant and arrogant demeanor had disappeared along with his youth and beauty. He looked like an ordinary old man, with wrinkled skin and cloudy eyes, showing the relentless erosion of time. Even a god couldn't escape the final moment when dust returns to dust and earth to earth.
He smiled kindly at me, and my throat tightened, my voice dry as I uttered his name.
"... Azazel."
"It's good to see you again, child," he said.
"I know you probably don't want to see me," he continued. "But as a grandfather, seeing his grandson is always a joyous occasion."
Azazel's body suddenly condensed into numerous cold-gleaming blades, poised to strike his vital spots.