Abaddon, who possessed demonic powers, had managed to recover a little. Mezrathus had found a way to lift the cursed spell from his son. The immense regenerative power of the demon body was a contributing factor; however, the physical traces of the explosion—those charred and torn tissues—remained as scars on Abaddon’s skin. On the other hand, the situation was much more critical for Nerya; the healing spells used by demons were contrary to human nature, and Nerya’s delicate body struggled to expel the poison of the forbidden magic.

  Every day, Vaelmon gathered the kingdom's finest light mages and healers at the manor. Although Nerya was gradually becoming able to get out of bed, the deep wound in her soul continued to ache. On that fateful day, the two had only activated the spell to intimidate their fathers; they had sworn never to harm one another. Yet, the fury of the wind and the nature of the forbidden magic had turned this innocent intention into a tragedy.

  Months passed. On the morning of her 20th birthday, Nerya felt a strange warmth within her. The harshness of the wind was gone, replaced by the blossoming power of the earth and life. Nerya had awakened a nature power rarely seen in the East Kingdom, reminiscent of elven magic. This power was the purest source of healing. Using her own mana like a seal, Nerya locked the curse within her body. The curse no longer spread, but in return, Nerya’s mana was constantly drained to keep this lock in place.

  One day, an uninvited guest appeared at the manor gates. Abaddon had come alone. When Vaelmon saw this wounded yet dignified man waiting at the door, he did not tighten his grip on his staff.

  "Come in, son," Vaelmon said. His voice no longer sounded like that of an arrogant archmage, but like that of a weary father.

  As soon as Abaddon entered, he knelt before Vaelmon. "Sir Vaelmon... If I hadn't shown Nerya that spell, none of this would have happened. I don't know how to apologize to you and your family, or how to make amends for this mistake."

  Vaelmon reached out, taking the demon youth by the shoulders and lifting him to his feet. "Hold your head high, young man. We cannot illuminate the future by sifting through the ashes of the past." As Abaddon looked on in surprise, Vaelmon continued: "Nerya has awakened nature magic. She can heal her own wounds. Though she isn't fully cured, she is no longer in mortal danger."

  Abaddon took a deep breath; the heavy burden on his shoulders lightened a bit. "Actually, I came here to bring you another hope. There is talk of a divine flower that grows in the misty mountains of the northwest: its name is 'Astra-Lumina'. They say if this flower is made into an elixir and consumed, it can strip away even the oldest curses etched into the soul."

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  Vaelmon remembered the name. "Astra-Lumina... But doesn't that flower grow in the region known as the 'Galthar Ruins', where 7th and 8th-circle monsters roam? It would take an army to go there. Even if I am the High Mage, the kingdom will not risk its legions for a flower. Moreover, with the North Kingdom's strict border laws, entering is near impossible."

  Abaddon’s face fell; his last hope had vanished into a sea of impossibilities. Seeing the young man's sorrow, Vaelmon smiled. "Come, you’ve traveled a long way. See Nerya for yourself."

  In the flowery gazebo in the backyard, Nerya was drinking tea when she saw Abaddon beside her father, and she dropped her porcelain teacup. Driven by months of longing, Nerya ran and threw her arms around Abaddon’s neck.

  "You're here... You're really here!" Nerya whispered. Abaddon held her tighter, saying, "I will never leave you alone for this long again." When Nerya noticed the scars on Abaddon’s neck and arms, the ache within her woke again, but the peace in Abaddon’s gaze gave her strength.

  Vaelmon left the two alone and went inside. When evening came, Vaelmon sat beside his daughter. "Nerya... forgive me for being a cage to you all this time. I held my reputation higher than your heart, and it almost cost both of you your lives. I will no longer stand in your way. If you wish to walk side by side, this path is yours."

  Nerya could not hold back her tears at her father's sincere confession and hugged him in gratitude. However, she had a plan in mind. A few weeks later, Nerya stood before her parents.

  "Mother, Father... I am grateful for the freedom you've given me. But you know the rumors in the kingdom never end. I fear that if they learn I am with a demon, they might stage a coup against my father. Furthermore, rumors that the assassins at the Grand Meeting cooperated with demons are still fueling the people's rage. I... intend to settle in a remote village in the East Kingdom with Abaddon. If we live a simple life there, unbeknownst to people, it won't affect you."

  Vaelmon and Elowen reacted with horror. "I cannot send you to such remote corners! What if your curse relapses?" Vaelmon shouted.

  "Father, please... This is not just for me, but for our peace. I won't cut my ties with you; we will just be out of sight. That way, your reputation won't be tarnished, and we won't live like hunted prey."

  Seeing his daughter's resolve, Vaelmon yielded. "On one condition... We will stay in constant contact. You will send me a letter every month. If you miss even a single month, I will gather my army and bring you back. Money, clothes, magic supplies... ask me for whatever you need."

  Nerya promised with a smile. On the other side, Mezrathus had also respected Abaddon's decision. Abaddon was the youngest of three brothers, and the line of succession was already far from him. Mezrathus held his son's happiness above all else.

  Nerya and Abaddon settled in that small, forgotten village nestled in the greenery on the edge of the East Kingdom. Now, Nerya was no longer the High Mage's daughter, and Abaddon was no longer a demon prince; they were simply two souls belonging to each other.