But the men didn't stop.
The girl knew she couldn't overpower Berald with brute force, so she reached inward, desperate to summon her strength. Just one ray of light, she pleaded in thought, as silvery blood pooled at her feet. Just one.
"Hm. Definitely not an ordinary undead. His blood is... unusual," Möllnar mused. "But it seems the boy's immortal—even without a soul. I'm curious what happens if he becomes part of me, like the others. Berald, bring him to me."
"Just a moment, my lord. He's still squirming," the man replied.
Daiya was flooded with rage.
So because she was just a young girl, they thought she'd do nothing while they tore her lover apart? That they could simply kill Milo in front of her, then move on to their next course—her? She had no doubt what kind of death they had in mind.
Lord Möllnar kept himself young by devouring his vassals alive, and judging by the remains, he required new victims regularly.
Objects in the cave began to tremble. A few wooden stumps toppled over. Slowly—agonizingly slowly—a glowing orb formed in the girl's hand.
"Get your hands off him!" she shouted. "Or I'll bring this whole damned place down!"
She had no idea whether she could actually destroy anything, but the sphere of light looked menacing enough.
Her enemies froze for a moment.
"What is that in your hand?" Lord Möllnar asked after a stunned silence.
"Sylun's blessing, you disgusting old man," Daiya said.
The light shot from her hand and slammed into Berald's back. He cried out and dropped Milo. The two collapsed to the floor, both still moving. Daiya exhaled sharply and tried to summon the light again. She knew she could do more—she remembered.
And she was right. This time, the beam burst from her palm in full glory.
Ignoring Lord Möllnar's threats and desperate pleading, Daiya unleashed the light on Berald once more. It tore through his chest. His body didn't move again.
Only one thing remained: the lord's final breath.
Daiya stepped closer to Möllnar. He tried to crawl away along the wall, but he could barely move. A third and final orb of light appeared in her hand—larger and more radiant than the others.
"Your lordship has brought this upon yourself," the girl whispered darkly. "Oh Sylun, I offer you the soul and blood of your false priest."
Then she struck. The fortress's shrieking master became nothing but a crimson smear on the stone.
Daiya felt no guilt. No regret. She didn't even have time for either. She ran to Milo's writhing body.
She wouldn't let him die again.
A wave of panic overtook her as the forest scene resurfaced in her memory. It couldn't end the same way.
When she turned his body, she noticed his face was free of pain. His eyes were open—but not glassy like they'd been under that massive black tree weeks ago.
But how?
The knife was clearly embedded in his heart. Daiya pulled it out, and silver liquid gushed even faster from the wound. Yet Milo still showed no signs of pain.
A realization formed in her mind: Milo couldn't die the same way twice.
And yet, his body was completely immobile from blood loss. Daiya suspected the blessing was keeping him going through the silver blood. She couldn't let him bleed out.
With no other option, she prayed to Sylun again.
She had sensed before that the strange light wasn't a violent force—but something malleable, able to take many forms.
Then, as if by divine instinct, a thought appeared in her mind.
She knew how to heal with it.
After a moment of focused will, her palm glowed white-hot.
"Please... work," she whispered, pressing the light to his chest.
She felt it—his tissue reconnecting, his dead heart becoming whole again.
To her shock, it even beat a few times. She heard it clearly.
Then Milo began to breathe.
As if alive.