My knees hit the ground.
I dropped the weapon and caught it in my arms—still warm, still glowing—but empty.
“Seori…” I whispered, holding the blade to my chest. “Come back to me.Please.You promised. You promised you’d come back…”
I didn’t care who watched. I didn’t care that I was the prince of ruin, blood-drenched and feared by all.
I would’ve traded every victory, every war, for her to open her eyes and look at me again.
But the weapon was still.
Tears burned my cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” I choked. “I should’ve saved you first. I should’ve known—”
“Rheon.”
The voice was soft. Feminine.
I looked up.
The Demon Queen stepped through the smoke, her crimson gown untouched by the blood around her. Her eyes shimmered—not with cruelty, but with mourning.
“There may still be a way,” she said.
I blinked.
“What?”
She came closer, her gaze flicking to the weapon in my arms — to Seori.
“She is of me,” the Queen said. “Of flame and starlight. Of demon and angel. She was never meant to die in this realm… and she was never meant to be bound to a weapon.”
“Then—bring her back,” I said, breath ragged. “Please.”
The Queen knelt beside me. She touched the sword — and it pulsed like a heartbeat.
“There is a ritual,” she said quietly. “Older than any curse. But you must give her a reason to return.”
I closed my eyes, forehead pressed to the blade.
“Seori,” I whispered. “Come back to me. Not because of the bond. Not because of fate. But because I love you. Because Ineedyou. Not as a weapon. Not as a warrior. Just…you.”
The blade glowed. And the Queen smiled faintly.
“She heard you.”
Seori
Of wings and flame
There was no pain here.
No weight of a body torn open. No sting of betrayal. No fire licking at the edges of memory. Only warmth.
Soft. Endless. Light so pure it didn’t blind, it embraced.
I floated… or maybe I was drifting through something older than time, older than names. The stars whispered like lullabies, and the wind carried the scent of cherry blossoms and incense and something like home.
