Chapter 162: A contract

"Aiden!"

Arina’s voice broke against the echo. "Aiden, you idiot, get back here!"

No answer. Only the low hum of dying magic, the smell of ash and dragonfire clinging to her tongue.

She took a staggering step forward, her boots crunching over shattered sigils, through the black dust that once glowed with wardlight. Somewhere behind her, Amber called too, her voice smaller, rawer, pleading through the ruin.

"Aiden! You’re still hurt! Come back!"

The words echoed, swallowed by the vast, broken hall. Arina’s jaw tightened. Her eyes stung—not from the smoke, not from the fire, but from the ache of helplessness.

She had fought beasts that could split mountains. She had killed men who thought themselves gods. But the thought of losing

him

—that reckless, stubborn boy who always smiled before stepping into hell—felt like losing the last bit of light left in the world.

She cursed under her breath. "Stupid, stupid, stupid..."

Then the air shifted.

A hum—low, ancient, resonant—rolled through the shattered guild like a growl from the earth itself. The torches flickered. Amber froze. Arina’s eyes snapped up, her hand flying to her sword.

"Aros!! Leave him!!!"

The abomination hovered above the rubble, wings outstretched—tattered but vast, each one blotting out what little light remained. His scales glimmered like molten obsidian, cracked and bleeding from Catherine’s assault.

The air around him trembled with the weight of his presence. In one hand, his talons still slick with blood, he held Aiden—by the back of the neck, like a hawk clutching prey.

Aiden’s feet dangled, his breath shallow. The burn across his throat pulsed faintly, searing crimson through the grime and sweat. His eyes were open, golden and unyielding even as the claws dug deeper.

"Aiden!" Amber screamed.

He turned his head, barely, his lips twitching into something almost like a smile. "It’s okay," he mouthed.

Arina moved—too late.

Aros’s gaze shifted toward her, and for a heartbeat, she felt the full weight of an ancient predator. Not a beast of flesh and bone, but something older, crueler. His voice rolled through the chamber, deep and mocking.

"You still have your use, honey tongue." Aros voiced.

The words cut through the smoke. Then—with a sound like thunder breaking—Aros spread his wings and shot into the night sky. The storm swallowed them whole, leaving nothing but wind and the echo of two voices crying his name.

"No! Aiden!"

Their screams faded into the hollow quiet.

.

.

.

Catherine arrived minutes——later. To those who saw her descend, she was not woman but storm incarnate. Her wings burned with golden fire, feathers scattering sparks as she landed amidst the ruin. Her armor glowed faintly, still thrumming with divine heat. The air around her warped; even the dying embers bent toward her, as though drawn to their origin.

Her eyes—those molten, furious eyes—took in everything. The broken hall. The bodies. The stillness.

"Where is he?" Her voice was a blade.

No one answered.

Samael stood near the remains of the command dais, his greatsword half-buried in rubble. His face was ash-streaked, unreadable. Arina, kneeling near the shattered wall, couldn’t meet Catherine’s gaze. Amber had her hands clenched around a strip of cloth that once belonged to Aiden’s tunic.

Catherine’s steps cracked the stone beneath her. "Where is HE?" she repeated, louder, her wings flaring.

No answer. Just silence thick enough to choke on.

Then she saw the claw marks. The black scorch lines where dragonfire met resistance. The blood—bright and too human—splattered across the cracked sigils.

Her breath left her in a hiss. "No..."

The word was both denial and fury. She turned on Samael first, finger pointing like a dagger. "You—you were supposed to keep him safe!—!"

Samael’s voice was low, gravel scraped through steel. "We tried..." He solemnly lied. "The beast came for him. And he forefeeted himself.... willingly.."

"None could stop it?" she spat. "You are the Slayer Guild, sworn to defend humanity, and you let him be taken? You—you call yourselves protectors?"

Her power rippled through the air; the ground glowed faintly beneath her feet. None of the elders dared meet her eyes. Not the battle-hardened, not the wise. Her fury was too vast, too divine.

She turned to Arina next, voice sharp enough to draw blood. "You, white-haired one—what use are your titles if you can’t save one boy? Was all your talk of duty nothing but wind?"

Arina’s head lowered. "We....I.. failed."

"Failed?" Catherine’s wings snapped wide, the sound like thunder. "You’ve doomed us all!"

No one spoke. Even the fire seemed to shrink from her.

Finally, Samael looked up. His eyes, old and weary, met hers. "You think your fury helps him now? It doesn’t. Save your wrath for the monster who took him."

Her breath hitched. For a heartbeat, the mask cracked. "I thought he was safe," she whispered. "With Augustus. With you all. I thought..." She swallowed the rest. The rage burned hotter to hide the fear beneath it. "You’re all useless. Every one of you. If he dies, I’ll burn this guild to the ground and scatter your ashes across the sea."

Then she was gone—wings igniting the air as she took to the sky, a golden streak vanishing into the storm. Her roar echoed across the mountains, a cry that made even the wind tremble.

.

.

.

Wessex, the Garrison

Far from the ruins, beyond the mountains where the stars burned red through the haze, Aros landed.

The earth cracked under his weight. They were in Wessex now—the grass beneath the Sky Dungeon, where the old towers leaned and the air stank of rust and blood. Above them, the dungeon itself loomed like a shattered chandelier hung from invisible chains, its underside glowing faintly with imprisoned light.

Aiden coughed as Aros dropped him to the ground. The dirt was cold and coarse against his palms. He spat blood, the taste metallic, sharp. His neck burned where the claws had pierced him, each heartbeat a pulse of pain and heat.

He looked up at the creature—no, the

being

—who stood over him.

"You brought me back here?" he asked, voice hoarse. "The dungeon that you came from?"

Aros didn’t answer right away. He turned his head toward the hanging fortress above, eyes burning with something like reverence—or hatred. "This place remembers," he said at last, his tone strange, almost mournful. "It remembers my mercy on you."

Aiden smirked weakly. "Mercy....What, the part where you started setting everything on fire to the elven lands?"

The abomination’s eyes flicked down to him. For a moment, they seemed almost... human. Then they weren’t. "Still your tongue, boy."

"Why?" Aiden said, pushing himself to his feet. His body screamed, every wound from the last battle raw and burning. "You’re going to kill me anyway, right?"

Aros stepped closer, the ground trembling under each step. The smell of burnt stone and blood filled the air. "Kill you?" His voice was a low growl. "No. Not yet."

Aiden’s throat tightened. "Then what?"

Aros’s smile was cruel, but not empty. "Before I didn’t see it, but now I do....you’re useful....sobLet’s make an

actual

contract."

The words hung between them like a spell.

Aiden blinked, his pulse quickening. He tried to laugh, but it came out hollow. "I already made one. Remember? You nearly burned half the lands to seal it."

Aros tilted his head, a mockery of curiosity. "That was no contract. That was mercy."

He took another step forward, talons glinting in the red light from above. "This—this will be something far greater. You’ll give me what’s mine. Willingly this time."

Aiden’s mind raced. "Don’t tell me you want my soul or some shit...."

"Not your soul." The abomination crouched down, claws digging into the dirt beside Aiden’s feet. "Your will. Your talent. Your voice. Everything that makes you.... charming ,human. You’ll be my vessel—a living covenant."

Aiden laughed once, breathless. "You think I’ll just say yes?"

"You already did, long ago." Aros’s voice dropped, soft, dangerous. "When you begged to live."

He had forgotten that moment until now. Or perhaps he’d buried it deep enough to pretend it wasn’t real.

He met the abomination’s eyes, his own blazing gold. "Fuck. You."

Aros leaned closer, his breath hot against Aiden’s face. "Hahahaha ... HAHAHAHA....Bold little one.."

For a heartbeat, neither moved. The dungeon above them groaned, ancient chains creaking like old gods shifting in their sleep. The light from its underside pulsed rhythmically—like a heart.

Aiden felt the pull. Not physical, but deeper—a call in his blood, the same thread that bound him to this creature. He could feel the mark on his neck burning brighter, answering some unseen command.

"You feel it...," Aros murmured. "That’s the start of our contract....if you just say yes..."

Aiden’s jaw clenched. "Fuuucckkk....Kill me, or just tell me what the fuck do you want from me...?."

"Oh..." Aros’s grin widened. "What I want is war, war between the elves and you humans...and you will help me start it all..."