The room was immersed in absolute silence, but the weight in the air made the atmosphere feel heavy, as if an invisible, almost oppressive presence lingered. The candles, which once flickered softly, now trembled weakly, casting distorted shadows that danced along the walls. The sound of everyone’s breathing became sharp and reverberant, a reflection of the tension that filled every corner of that space. The frantic beating of their hearts spread like an incurable disease.

  Elyndra, her gaze fixed on the faintly glowing mark on Tekime’s chest, stepped forward with unyielding seriousness. She knew she was dealing with something beyond what any human or divine magic could comprehend. The mark, pulsing with a silent energy, seemed almost alive. Elyndra hesitated, the weight of a terrible fate hanging over her.

  — “May I touch here?” — Elyndra’s voice echoed softly yet clearly, breaking the silence around them.

  Tekime, confused and restless, simply nodded. A shiver ran down her spine as Elyndra’s hands met her skin. The sensation was indescribable, like an electric current rushing through her body, making her tremble. Elyndra closed her eyes, feeling the energy of the mark as she began to chant a prayer, her voice soft but carrying a weight that seemed to pull at the very soul of those who listened.

  — “Oh Lunaria, Lady of the Moon and Souls,

  In your serene light, we find comfort and strength…”

  As she recited, the glow of Tekime’s mark intensified, becoming a blinding silver flame. Elyndra, eyes widened, watched with both fascination and apprehension as something began to manifest. Behind Tekime, an ethereal figure slowly took shape. It was a woman with long silver hair, wrapped in a mantle of light so intense that it seemed to consume the very reality around her. The presence of Lunaria was there, both as a reflection and a silent threat.

  — “I’ve found an answer…” — Elyndra murmured, her voice now filled with reverence, yet tinged with a dark skepticism. She pulled back from Tekime, adjusting her clothes almost mechanically, before turning toward Hitory.

  — “May I touch your scar?” — Elyndra asked, curiosity mixed with apprehension.

  Hitory, visibly tense, swallowed hard. Elyndra’s question echoed distantly in his mind, sounding both like an offer and a warning. He knew that by granting permission, he was surrendering himself to the unknown.

  — “Go ahead…” — his voice was barely above a whisper, more to himself than to Elyndra.

  With artificial calm, Elyndra reached out to touch the scar that ran across Hitory’s chest. The moment her fingers made contact with his skin, a shiver ran through both of them. The air around them shifted, as if the very room was transforming into something else. The candles were snuffed out abruptly, and the windows and doors slammed shut with a thunderous crash that echoed through the entire house. A suffocating weight settled in the air, and the temperature plummeted. Hitory’s breathing became the only audible sound, heavy and unsteady.

  — “Alright…” — Elyndra murmured, her voice growing lower, more distant, as if she were losing her connection to reality.

  Tekime, sitting in the corner of the room, watched the scene with wide eyes, a growing terror overtaking her. She felt as if she were being watched by something far greater and older than any known magic—something surrounding them, judging them. Something that did not belong to this world.

  Elyndra, without breaking eye contact with Hitory, began to chant a dark prayer, heavy with a force that seemed to overflow beyond the limits of life and death.

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  — “Oh édros, Being of Shadows and Strength,

  You who exist beyond the limits of magic…”

  Each word tore through the air with an overwhelming force. Hitory, who had remained still until now, slowly turned his gaze toward the ceiling, his eyes empty, lost in a distant dimension. Then, a horrifying transformation began.

  Hitory’s eyes, once deep and vacant, started to fill with blood. The thick, dark liquid flowed like an uncontrollable torrent, flooding his face and dripping onto the floor with an unstoppable force. His scar widened rapidly, splitting apart as if his very flesh were being ripped open. From the depths of the wound, more blood poured, forming an ever-growing pool beneath him.

  — “Someone… someone, help me…” — Hitory’s voice came out weak, barely audible, like a desperate cry smothered by his own agony.

  Elyndra and Tekime remained frozen, unable to react. The blood continued to flow endlessly, and then, the figure of édros, the Demon Lord of Sins, appeared before them. His presence was crushing—a force so dense and purely malevolent that it seemed to devour the very light around him. He materialized slowly, a towering figure wrapped in pulsating shadows, his crimson eyes burning like flames that reflected the horrors of the abyss.

  édros’ laughter echoed through the room—low, guttural, a sound that cut through the soul. The two women collapsed to their knees, their strength evaporating under the sheer magnitude of the entity standing before them. Tekime, in absolute panic, lost control of her body. Her nails scraped against the floor, leaving marks as her body trembled, utterly consumed by despair.

  Elyndra, though struggling to maintain her composure, felt the unbearable weight of édros’ presence, as if her very soul was being torn apart just by standing before him.

  Hitory, his expression vacant and unfocused, slowly turned his gaze to édros. His breathing grew ragged, as though he were suffocating under an invisible force. The blood still poured from his open wound, but he no longer seemed to notice it uncontrollably, the sensation of terror paralyzed her completely. Her eyes were fixed on what Hitory carried within him, on the force of darkness that now dominated the room.

  Voices began to echo throughout the space—whispers of lost souls, desperately begging to be saved. The words were distorted, incomprehensible, yet they carried a plea for help that cut deep into Elyndra and Tekime’s hearts. “Help me! Help me!” they screamed, but édros' voice drowned out everything.

  When the entity vanished into the shadows, the room fell into absolute silence. Hitory, exhausted and consumed by suffering, collapsed onto the floor. Inexplicably, the blood began to disappear as if it had never existed, and the candles reignited, casting a flickering glow over the now desolate chamber.

  Elyndra, her face pale and eyes wide with shock, quickly stood up without hesitation. She took Hitory into her arms and carried him to her table, knocking over books and scattered papers. As she laid him down, something even more horrifying caught her attention.

  The scar on his chest had transformed into a cursed mark—a grotesque mutation. The crack in his flesh oozed a dark, viscous substance, something eerily similar to “Aether’s Blood,” consuming him from within.

  Elyndra stared at the mark, horrified. “What have I done… What have I done…” she whispered, her voice filled with guilt. Her heart pounded wildly as she felt the crushing weight of the choice she had made. She knew she had pushed Hitory to the brink, and if he died, she would never forgive herself.

  With the strength of desperation, Elyndra gathered all the mana she could control, concentrating it into a sphere of pure energy around her. Without a second thought, she pressed her hand against Hitory’s chest, invoking a power she herself did not fully understand.

  A burst of pure, blinding light filled the room. Elyndra was thrown backward, her body battered by the overwhelming force of the unleashed magic. When the light finally faded, she slowly pushed herself up, exhausted, her body in ruins.

  The mark on Hitory’s chest was intact once more, as if nothing had happened. But as she looked at him, Elyndra knew something had changed. Something dark and irreversible.

  She carried him back to his room, laying him carefully on the bed. Searching for Tekime, she found nothing. The bathroom door was locked, and a growing unease seized Elyndra.

  Something was wrong.

  What would happen now? What fate awaited them both, now that they had touched the limits of magic, of life, and death? A new terror loomed over them—darker and more unfathomable than anything they had ever faced.

  Nothing would ever be the same again.

  End of EP 9: "In the Name of the Gods"