​Julian instinctively touched his hair—it was still raven black, messy and dark against the white silk pillows. But as he looked into the polished silver tray on the bedside table, he froze.

​His eyes had always been a strange pair—one a deep, piercing blue and the other a clouded purple. But now, the blue was being eaten.

A rough, violet corrosion was spreading across his left iris, crawling toward the pupil like ink dropped in water. The blue was fading, being reclaimed by the same purple of his other eye.

​"Julian," Elian whispered, his hand hovering near Julian’s face but not daring to touch him. "Your eyes... the blue is disappearing."

​Julian stared at his reflection, the demon’s words echoing in his mind: I think I’ll give you something more to save.

This was far more than he bargained for.

He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to be involved with it. But... he did learn one thing. The creator, the demon, did not plan to simply corrupt the Holy Empire and be done with it.

He planned to destroy the world that had been snatched from him and remake his own world from scratch.

So, even if he wanted to run, even if he wanted to hide, he was involved with this whether he liked it or not. This... nightmare.

Julian gulped and took in a shaky breath. For now, he had to stay calm and watch how things play out. He can’t tell anyone that a demon communicated to him directly, much less the demon that was trying to destroy the world.

​"Is everyone...?" Julian started, his voice trembling.

​"Healed," Elian finished, though his gaze remained fixed on Julian’s changing eyes. "Every single soul that your light touched in that pass is alive. But I fear the price you paid is something we don’t yet understand."

Julian turned his head. Yeah, it was a price they could never know.

​"Master, please don’t look like that," Lucius whispered, wiping his eyes. "You’re back. That’s all that matters."

​Julian managed a weak nod, but his mind was still back in that dark apartment, listening to the Creator’s laughter. He wasn’t just back; he was marked. And the Sanctum was already treating him like a ticking bomb.

​"There is one more thing," Elian said, his voice cutting through the quiet. He walked over to the bed, his expression unreadable. "Your message reached the Viremount Empire and the Grand Duke of the North didn’t just receive it; he responded."

​Julian’s heart gave a heavy, painful thump. "Lucien?"

​"He wasted no time as soon as he read your message and set out." Elian replied, a hint of genuine worry finally breaking through his mask. "He didn’t wait for a diplomatic escort or a formal invitation. He rode through the night with a contingent of his personal guard. By the evening, if what we heard was correct, he would have arrived at the city gates."

​Julian closed his eyes for a second, a mixture of relief and pure terror washing over him. Alaric was coming. The man who had been a world away was now barreling toward a city that was currently terrified of what Julian had become.

​"So, he’ll be arriving soon, right?" Julian asked, his grip on the silver tray tightening. "At the Sanctum?"

​He wasn’t surprised. He had sent that message with the full intention of pulling the trigger on Alaric’s temper.

He knew the man—he knew that if a letter arrived saying his son and his lover were in a demon-infested war zone, Alaric wouldn’t just send a reply. He would burn the road to get there.

​Elian sighed, his gaze flickering toward the window as if he could already hear the thunder of hooves in the distance.

​"Yes. Our scouts reported him crossing the border hours ago. He didn’t even stop for the formal clearance at the gateway," Elian replied, his voice strained. "The Pope is... beyond displeased. Bringing the Viremount Empire’s forces into the heart of the Holy Empire during a demon surge is a geopolitical nightmare. It looks like an invasion to the Council, and a sign of weakness to the citizens."

​"Then the Council should have thought of that before they tried to use me as monster bait," Julian countered, his voice cold. He had been deployed simply because he carried the title as Saint, but he wasn’t stupid enough to assume it was all for just cause.

They never expected him to pull off a miracle like that, and never expected him to make it out unscathed. Though, saying he came out unscathed was an overstatement since he was carried back unconscious.

Now, they will feel the fury of not just the enraged saint, but the Northern forces of the Viremount Empire.

And maybe... Julian thought... Just maybe with Alaric’s help, he could find a way to stop the demon creator from destroying this world he had come to call home.

Julian pushed himself off the bed, his legs feeling like lead, but he forced himself to stand. The violet in his eyes flared slightly, a dull pulse that seemed to thrum in his very temples.

This was definitely an influence to meeting her demon creator. The miasma was purple, so his eyes... were suffering from its corruption, he would say.

​"Master, wait!" Lucius scrambled to his side, catching Julian’s arm to steady him.

​"I’m fine, Lucius," Julian lied, though his skin felt cold. He looked at Elian. "Tell the Pope that if he wants to avoid a ’scandal,’ he should let the Grand Duke through without incident. If Alaric is forced to draw his sword at the gates of the Inner Sanctum, the ’nightmare’ will be much worse than a few black-armored soldiers in the plaza."

​Elian looked at Julian—really looked at him—noticing the way the raven hair shadowed a face that now looked sharper, more dangerous.

The scholar who had tried to stay diplomatic and quietly learn their ways was gone. In his place was someone who had stared into a void and survived.

​"I will convey the message," Elian said quietly. "But be ready. He is not in a mood for diplomacy."

"Well, I’m not in the mood either. So that makes us even." Julian said. "If the Pope wants a fight, he might as well get it."

His words were blasphemous to the Pope, the father of the church but Elian was not confident that he would win if he were to bring up an issue with Julian right now.

He stared into the scholar’s eyes but all he could see was the evidence of struggle.

This was why it was said that Julian could as well be the Pope’s successor.