Chapter 61 – Everything She Took
*
I watched you fight through blood and flame, while holy tongues condemned your name. Each friend you struck, each vow you broke. Became another wound I awoke.
You fled at last, too hurt to stay, Yet far too proud to die that day. My wound burned deeper with each breath, Yet still I laughed in spite of death.
So run, my love, and nurse your pain, we both know we will meet again. For though you vanished from my view, My sweetest scar still leads to you.
*
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A quiet laugh slipped from Beatrice’s lips.
“Hehe…”
I stared at her, unable to understand what I was seeing. Fine cracks had begun spreading across her skin, thin and dark beneath the soft features I had known for years. They crept along her cheeks and down her throat, breaking apart the face I had kissed, the face I had trusted, while pale fragments drifted away into the air like ash caught in a breeze.
“Beatrice…?”
My voice sounded small.
She didn’t answer.
Her shoulders began to shake instead, and another laugh escaped her, louder this time.
“Ah… hahahaha…”
The sound no longer belonged to her.
I knew Beatrice’s laugh. I had heard it countless times. It had always been warm and light, familiar enough to ease the tightness in my chest before I even realized it was there.
This was not that laugh.
What came from her now rose and fell in broken layers, sinking deep enough to scrape against my bones before twisting into something sharp and cruel.
She threw her head back, laughing without restraint as the final pieces of her disguise peeled away. The face I remembered crumbled completely, revealing dark skin beneath as the holy light trembling around my hands stripped away the last of the lie.
Long horns curved back from her head as her body stretched taller. A pair of enormous wings unfolded behind her, scattering papers across the chamber.
I couldn’t move.
I could only watch as the woman I loved disappeared piece by piece.
And the creature beneath her smiled at me.
Even with her disguise gone, traces of Beatrice remained in the curve of her lips and the small expressions I had learned to recognize.
Seeing them on this creature hurt more than the horns or wings ever could.
The demon tilted her head and pushed out her lower lip in an exaggerated pout.
“Aww…” she cooed as her wings folded behind her. “And you were doing so well.”
It was Beatrice’s voice.
The same warmth remained, along with the playfulness that had once made me feel safe, but now I could hear the cruelty hiding beneath every word.
“Just a little longer,” she said, drawing out each word as her crimson eyes moved slowly over me, “and you would have been mine.”
The words had barely left her lips when her body vanished.
A breath later, she appeared directly before me.
I froze as she leaned closer until the cruel curve of her smile filled my vision.
“Tell me, Eliza,” she whispered. “How deeply did you fall for me?”
Her eyes searched my face, taking in every flicker of pain with a fascination that made my stomach twist.
“Was it love?” she asked, her grin widening. “The precious kind you humans cling to so desperately? Had you already decided to place that guarded little heart of yours in my hands?”
Something inside me gave way.
The tears came silently, spilling down my cheeks, and no matter how desperately I tried, I could not force a single word past the tightness in my throat. I hated them. Hated that she could see them.
The demon watched the first tear fall, and her smile slowly widened until the sharp points of her teeth showed.
“Oh…”
A delighted giggle slipped from her.
“That face tells me everything I need to know.”
She vanished again with another soft laugh, only to appear at my side. One claw settled against my shoulder plate as she began to circle me, its tip dragging lightly across the metal while she passed behind me.
The faint scrape followed her through the silence.
“You know,” she murmured, “if I had realized you were becoming this skilled with that troublesome blessing of yours…”
Her claw trailed slowly down my arm, following the edges of my armor.
She paused behind me, close enough for her breath to warm my ear.
“I would have dragged you into my bed much sooner.”
Her breath remained against my ear as she lingered behind me, allowing the words to settle before slowly drawing away.
I lowered my head, and the tears spilled freely, slipping from my face and striking the stone beneath me in small, dark drops. There was no hiding them now, and no strength left in me to hold them back.
“Why…?”
The word barely escaped me, but the demon’s claw stilled against my arm.
Something inside me twisted at her silence, and before I could stop myself, I turned toward her.
“Why?”
The word tore from my throat this time.
She only watched me with that same amused smile, and everything I had tried to hold together finally began to break apart.
“Was this all a game to you?” My voice cracked, each breath catching painfully between the words. “Every moment we spent together… every promise you made—did none of it mean anything?”
Her smile never faltered.
“Did you feel nothing for me?” I demanded. “Were all those things you whispered just lies?”
My chest tightened until I could barely breathe, and the anger left me as quickly as it came. When I spoke again, there was nothing left in my voice but hurt.
“Was I…” A sob caught in my throat, and my voice fell into something small and broken. “…nothing to you?”
For several breaths, the demon said nothing. She merely watched me break before her, her smile widening until a soft laugh slipped through her teeth.
“Oh, my dear Eliza…”
Her eyes lingered on my tears with a delight she made no effort to hide.
“You really were starving for affection, weren’t you?”
Her claw rose beneath my chin, lifting my face toward hers.
“One gentle word. One stolen kiss.” Her grin widened. “A few years of making you believe someone finally saw you, and you were ready to hand me everything.”
I pulled my face away from her touch, but the movement only deepened her amusement.
“What is it?” she whispered. “Do you still love me, even now? Even knowing what I am?”
I stared at her through my tears, unable to answer.
“Oh,” she breathed. “That will work too.”
Before I understood what she meant, the horns and wings vanished. Her claws softened into familiar hands, and the crimson drained from her eyes.
Beatrice stood before me again.
The sight of her struck me before I could remind myself that it was a lie. My breath caught, and for one cruel instant, my heart recognized Beatrice before it remembered the creature wearing her face.
Before I could move, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me.
“Eliza,” she whispered, her voice trembling with a grief so convincing that it hurt. “I’m so sorry.”
I froze within her embrace.
“I was frightened. I thought that if you discovered what I was, I would lose you. I never meant to hurt you.”
Her hand moved slowly across my back in the same soothing rhythm I remembered, and it made my stomach twist.
“I still love you,” she whispered, and despite everything, I felt the words reach the part of me that had once lived for them.
“I still want to be with you.”
That lie hurt more, because after everything, I still wanted it to be true.
She drew back only far enough to look into my eyes, wearing the soft, pleading expression I had imagined so many times.
“Will you forgive me?”
She wore Beatrice’s face and held me in those same familiar arms, asking for forgiveness as though the creature beneath them had never revealed itself.
Every trace of affection I had once longed for had been returned to me as another lie. The cruelty of it broke what little remained of my heart, and no matter how desperately I tried, the tears would not stop.
I kept looking at her.
At Beatrice’s face. Beatrice’s eyes. The same gentle expression I had once believed without question. And for one painful heartbeat, I could almost forget what was hiding beneath them.
Pale light gathered silently between us, taking shape as a dagger in my hand before the demon noticed.
I drove it into her chest.
Her body jerked against mine.
The false grief vanished from her face. Blood spilled over her lips as she looked down, her eyes widening at the sight of my hand wrapped around the hilt buried between her ribs.
For the first time, she wasn’t smiling.
She tore herself away from me, the dagger still buried in her chest. Beatrice’s face flickered and broke apart as the demon’s horns and wings returned.
The instant her fingers closed around the dagger, holy light burned into her palm. She let go with a hiss, smoke rising from her hand.
Her eyes lifted to mine, all amusement gone.
“Really, Eliza?” she sneered, blood staining her lips. “A holy relic?”
I didn’t answer.
The tears were still running down my face as I held out my hand.
Light burst from my palm and raced along my arm until a towering shield took shape against my forearm. Holy sigils burned across its surface while I drew my sword with my free hand, the blade ringing softly as it left its sheath.
I raised the blade beside my shield, though my tears blurred the demon standing before me.
Her gaze moved from my sword to the shield covering my arm, and the amusement slowly returned to her face.
“Oh,” she murmured, dark blood still running from the corner of her mouth. “You even brought that precious shield of yours.”
Her eyes followed the holy sigils burning across its surface, and recognition slowly settled within them.
“But it hasn’t accepted you yet, has it?”
My grip tightened around the sword.
“Poor Eliza,” she continued, almost tenderly. “Even your precious relic doesn’t want you.”
Her grin widened.
“Just like everyone else in your life.”
The words cut through me, but before I could force the hurt back down, two figures stepped into view behind her—paladins.
At first, I thought they had come to help me. Then I saw their smiles.
Neither man reached for his sword. Neither so much as glanced at the blood running down her chest. They only stood beside her with the same obedience I had seen in men kneeling before an altar.
The demon turned toward the nearest one and ran her burned hand across his cheek with the same tenderness she had once shown me. He leaned into her touch without hesitation.
“Leon,” she said sweetly, “be a dear and remove this accursed thing from my chest.”
His smile deepened.
“Of course.”
He stepped forward and closed his hand around the dagger. The holy light that had burned her palm did nothing to him.
With one sharp pull, he tore the blade free.
A scream tore from her as blood spilled from the wound. She bent forward, clutching her chest, but the cry soon broke into a breathless laugh.
“Fuck, that hurt.”
Leon lowered the bloodied dagger to his side as she slowly straightened. Her face was still tight with pain, but by the time she placed a hand on his shoulder and glanced toward the other paladin, she was already enjoying herself again.
“Kill her for me.”
Both men drew their swords.
I knew those blades and the vows spoken when they received them, yet neither man hesitated as they walked toward me.
“Leon. Gideon.” My voice sounded unsteady even to me. “Stand down.”
Neither listened.
Gideon reached me first. I slipped past his blade as it cut through the space beside my neck, bringing my shield up just in time to catch Leon’s attack from the other side. The impact travelled through my arm, but I drove forward behind the shield and forced Leon back before turning to slam its edge into Gideon’s chest.
He staggered, and I drove my boot into him before he could recover, sending him crashing across the chamber.
Leon was already moving again.
His sword came down against mine, and the chamber filled with the ringing of steel as one strike followed another. I knew the way he moved. Every attack was disciplined, every step measured. I had trained beside him for years.
That only made it worse.
I caught his next strike against my shield and forced my way inside his guard, trying to drive him back without using my sword. He recovered too quickly, slipping his blade around its edge and striking my shoulder.
I let the armor take it.
Before he could pull away, I drove the shield into him and sent him stumbling back.
I stepped after him, but Gideon’s sword struck across my back before I could reach him. Metal screamed against metal, though the blade failed to pierce. I twisted around and blocked his next attack, only for Leon to close in again from the other side.
After that, there was no room to breathe.
One sword struck my shield while the other scraped across the armor covering my ribs. I turned between them, blocking what I could and letting my armor take the rest, but every opening I found disappeared beneath another attack.
Still, I aimed for their hands and knees—anywhere that might bring them down without killing them.
They offered me no such mercy.
Gideon’s blade glanced off my breastplate, drawing my attention toward him for only an instant.
It was enough.
Pain tore through my side.
Leon was already inside my guard, one hand wrapped around the holy dagger he had pulled from the demon’s chest. Its blade had passed through my armor as though it were cloth.
He drove it deeper, and I screamed.
White fire spread through my side, stealing the strength from my legs. I forced my shield between us and drove it into him. The dagger ripped free as Leon crashed to the ground, and I stumbled away with one hand pressed against the blood seeping through the broken plates at my side.
Gideon was already closing the distance between us.
There was no hesitation in his face. No recognition. Nothing left of the man who had once trained beside me.
I had wanted to save them, but as he came for me again, I finally understood that if I continued holding back, I was going to die.
The hope that I could still save them died, and with it, the tears stopped.
Gideon raised his sword, and I stepped inside the strike before driving my blade through his chest.
The point burst through the back of his armor.
His body jerked, and for one foolish instant, I thought it was over.
Then he looked down at the sword buried inside him.
And grinned.
“For the mistress,” he whispered, forcing himself farther onto my blade.
My breath caught as his hand closed around my shoulder and forced me backward, blood pouring from the wound while his sword rose again. I tore my weapon free and barely caught the strike.
He kept coming.
My next thrust pierced his heart.
Blood filled his mouth, but what escaped with it was laughter.
Dark veins spread across his throat and face, pulsing beneath his skin as his ruined body continued forward despite the wound through his heart.
He swung again.
I cut off his arm.
The severed arm struck the floor still gripping his sword, but Gideon threw himself at me with the hand he had left. Blood flooded down his armor while that broken laughter continued.
My next strike took his head.
His head struck the stone and rolled away, yet his body continued toward me. Even headless and missing an arm, with blood pouring from his ruined body, he was still obeying her.
A broken sound escaped me as I raised my shield and called upon its power. Holy light erupted across its surface, and I drove the shield into him.
The dark veins ignited the instant the light touched his body. Pale fire consumed him from within, racing through flesh and armor until there was nothing left before me but ash drifting through the chamber.
I turned toward Leon.
He had risen.
The holy dagger lay beside him, forgotten, while blood ran down the side of his face. He did not look at me. He only stared at what remained of Gideon.
Then his eyes found mine.
“For the mistress.”
He ran at me.
I raised my sword, expecting him to strike, but his weapon slipped from his hand before he reached me.
Too late, I understood.
I tried to pull my blade aside.
Leon seized it with both hands and threw himself forward.
My sword passed through his chest.
His body struck mine hard enough to drive me back a step. I could only stare as his weight forced the blade deeper into him, his blood running warm over my hand.
Only then did he smile, as though I had given him exactly what he wanted.
Footsteps thundered beyond the chamber.
I barely had time to turn before armed figures poured through the entrances—knights first, followed by paladins and clerics in white and gold. They spread around me with practiced speed, weapons drawn, closing every path out of the chamber behind a wall of steel.
A woman entered last.
The saint’s robes were untouched by dust or blood, their golden embroidery shining beneath the chamber lights. No one spoke as she passed through their ranks. Even the commanders lowered their heads.
Her gaze settled on me before moving to the blood covering my armor, the ash scattered across the floor, and Leon, still impaled upon my sword.
His weight had gone slack against me.
I had been staring at the smile frozen on his face so intently that I hadn’t even realized he was dead.
The saint let out a quiet sigh.
“How tragic,” she murmured. “Even the greatest blessings may be corrupted.”
A chill moved through me.
“Chosen by Lord Aureon himself,” she continued, her voice carrying easily through the chamber. “A daughter of the God of Sanctuary, fallen so completely into darkness.”
Her gaze shifted toward Gideon’s ashes.
“Brother Gideon consumed by demonic corruption. Brother Leon murdered when he tried to stop you.” She looked back at me. “We were warned that they had uncovered your worship of the demon monarchs. We were also warned that you intended to silence them before they could carry the truth to the Church.”
Murmurs spread among the knights surrounding me.
“These are among the gravest acts of heresy, Dame Eliza.” Her expression remained calm, almost pitying. “Do you deny them?”
I looked past her, searching the spaces between the paladins and every shadowed doorway where the demon might have been watching.
There was no sign of her.
Beatrice was gone.
The timing was too perfect—the accusation already prepared, the saint arriving before Leon’s blood had even cooled.
My gaze returned to the saint.
“Was it Beatrice?” I asked. My voice sounded hollow. “Was she the one who brought you here?”
The saint gave no answer, though the corner of her mouth lifted slightly.
It vanished so quickly that I almost questioned whether I had seen it at all.
Then she turned to the paladin waiting at her side, his face hidden behind a closed helm.
Commander Dante of the First Order stepped forward.
I had seen him command entire battlefields without raising his voice. Men twice his size fell silent when he entered a room. I had once believed there was no paladin more deserving of the sword he carried.
Now he drew it against me.
“I expected better of you, Dame Eliza,” he said, his voice low beneath the helm.
His gaze passed over Leon’s body and the ashes at my feet.
“No,” he said. “I will not call you that.”
His sword rose.
“Heretic. Lay down your weapons. You will answer for this before the gods.”
I said nothing.
“The corruption upon you is plain,” he continued. “Resist, and I will subdue you myself.”
I looked once more at the saint and the clerics already preparing their restraints. None of them were waiting for an answer.
They had not come to hear the truth.
My hand tightened around the sword still buried in Leon’s body, and with one hard pull, I tore it free.
His body collapsed at my feet.
Weapons rose all around me.
Holy light ignited across my shield, spreading through every sigil until its glow filled the chamber.
“I deny every word.”
The saint’s expression hardened.
“Relinquish the relics and your sword,” she ordered. “Submit yourself for examination, and the Church will determine how deeply the corruption has taken root.”
“No.”
The answer left me without hesitation.
That same faint smile returned, and this time she made no effort to hide whom it was meant for.
Dante noticed none of it. He saw only my refusal and lowered himself into a fighting stance.
“Eliza,” he said, quieter now. “Is this truly your choice?”
I looked at the knights and paladins surrounding me—at men and women I had trained beside, prayed beside, and bled beside.
Not one of them looked at me without suspicion.
A small, tired smile touched my lips.
“So this is where I stand,” I murmured. “Alone again.”
I raised my sword beside the burning shield.
“Then so be it.”
Dante moved.
The stone shattered beneath his feet, and before I could brace myself, he was already upon me.
***
When I fell silent, the quiet of the crimson domain returned around us.
At some point, both of my hands had closed around Lilith’s arms. I was still holding them tightly, unwilling to let go of the warmth beneath my fingers.
“Dante was more of a father to me than my own ever was,” I said at last.
The words left a familiar ache behind.
“He trained me from the day I entered the Order. He corrected every mistake, praised every victory I earned, and stood beside me through battles neither of us expected to survive.” My gaze fell to Lilith’s arms around me. “So when he came at me that day… part of me thought about letting him kill me.”
Lilith went still around me.
“I thought I could lower my sword and let him strike me down. No more running. No more carrying any of it.” I released a slow breath. “At least then, I would finally be free.”
Her embrace tightened around me again. I settled farther back against her, letting her warmth steady me before I spoke again.
“But I couldn’t,” I said quietly.
“I couldn’t let her take everything from me and simply disappear.” The old anger stirred beneath my ribs, bitter and painfully familiar. “I wanted to find her. I wanted to make her pay for what she had done.”
For a moment, I said nothing.
“I wanted to kill her.”
“So I fought. I fought Dante and every paladin who came after him. I came close to dying more times than I could count, and if I had been wearing ordinary armor, I never would have escaped that chamber.”
“The relic saved me,” I murmured. “The Armor of Freedom.”
Lilith shifted slightly behind me, her chin brushing softly against my hair as she listened.
“It had never fully accepted me, but it protected me anyway. Every blade that should have reached my flesh struck the armor instead. By the time I finally fought my way out of that chamber, entire sections of the armor were gone, and only half of my sword remained.”
A faint laugh escaped me.
“I must have looked ridiculous—bleeding, barely armed, and still trying to run.”
The laugh faded almost as quickly as it came.
“I used whatever power I had left and kept moving for three days. I didn’t stop to sleep. I barely stopped to drink. Every time my legs began to fail, I imagined hearing the Order behind me and forced them to move again.”
My thumb traced slowly across Lilith’s forearm.
“When I finally couldn’t take another step, I collapsed beside a nameless road somewhere beyond the Church’s reach.” Another quiet laugh slipped free. “The moment I stopped running, the armor fell apart.”
Lilith gave a soft hum behind me.
“Every remaining plate crumbled away and scattered across the ground. After everything it had endured, I suppose it had decided I no longer needed it.”
I lowered my gaze.
“And then it really was only me. I had no home to return to, no one who would believe what had happened, and nowhere left to go. All I had was the need for revenge.”
I paused, my thumb growing still against Lilith’s arm.
“A year later, that need led me to the Apostles of Ruin.”
“I told myself I needed them because they knew more about demons than the Church ever admitted. They taught me how demons hunted, how they concealed themselves, and how to kill them before they had the chance to crawl inside someone’s heart.”
My voice grew quieter.
“I knew what the Apostles were. I saw the things they did and the people they hurt. But as long as they brought me closer to my goal, I pretended not to see any of it.”
There was no excuse for it.
“I became very good at looking away.”
I remained against her chest after the words left me, holding on to her for a little longer. Then I slowly loosened my grip and turned within her embrace until I sat facing her.
Her arms settled naturally around my waist, while mine found their way around her shoulders.
Those crimson eyes met mine.
There was no judgment in them.
“The rest,” I whispered, “you already know.”