In the dim cell, Sinora stood in the depths, the faint light from the vaulted ceiling reflected in her pupils, along with the silhouette of the dark-haired, green-eyed maiden bathed in radiance.
"..."
The wariness and contemplation in Sinora's eyes were gone; before she closed them, nothing remained but relief and gentleness.
With her feet slightly parted, she clasped her hands gently before her abdomen with poised restraint. She dipped into a subtle curtsy, her eyelashes lowering modestly, her expression serene and cordial—neither overly eager nor aloof.
Throughout the curtsy, the lady's movements were fluid and controlled, showcasing her impeccable breeding and quiet confidence in every detail.
Then, she gracefully straightened back up.
"I shall follow you, New King."
Sinora murmured under her breath, as if speaking to herself, yet also making a vow to Antanas and the Poet of Great Love.
"Then I shall take you out of Herrom Prison. You may need to fight for me; your most crucial task in the near future will be joining forces with Antanas to deal with an eighth-rank powerhouse. Will that be all right?"
The Poet of Great Love nodded and asked.
"Of course. I have pledged my loyalty to you. No transaction is needed—I will naturally offer you my strength,"
Sinora replied.
It had been a very long time since she had fought in earnest. If she could render meritorious service to the New King, she would naturally give her all.
"Please complete the contract with me."
Sinora kept her hands clasped in front of her, averting her gaze as she waited quietly. She had already accepted this contract.
What she referred to at this moment was naturally another, far more tangible contract.
The reason the Protos Empire had kept these great demons imprisoned here instead of executing them was that they wanted to use the ancient demonic ritual inherent in Herrom Prison's barrier to bind them in slave contracts.
This was also the sole way they could ever escape Herrom Prison and the Protos Empire.
Never did she imagine that one day it would become the method by which the New King would take them away.
All her resentment toward Herrom Prison was, perhaps, finally laid to rest.
If it meant becoming the New King's strength, she could endure it, even if she had to bear the brand of a slave for the rest of her life...
"There is no need. An agreement under the terms of a demon transaction will suffice. A slave contract is taking things too far."
The Poet of Great Love shook her head and waved a hand, declining Sinora's request.
"...?"
Sinora stared at the Poet of Great Love in bewilderment, unable to understand what the New King meant.
Although a demon transaction carried a backlash, it was not fatal; only those fierce, intensely proud great demons would go so far as to take their own lives over it.
She was clearly not the kind of demon who would take things to such extremes.
Setting aside how the New King intended to bypass the slave contract—the established method of removing her from Herrom Prison—a slave contract was undeniably a far more coercive measure, one capable of guaranteeing absolute loyalty and control over a subordinate. Why would the New King choose a method with much higher risk?
Was the King not afraid that she might disobey once freed...?
"I trust you."
Facing Sinora's puzzled gaze, the Poet of Great Love offered only a simple answer.
There was no curl to his lips, yet his eyes were brimming with warmth.
It was not the cold gaze one directed at a tool or a subordinate, but an unvarnished fondness for a cherished treasure, conveying to her that she was not a mere underling, but an equal who was to become a friend.
"I..."
The feeling was like a gust of warm wind suddenly brushing past in an endless, sunless winter. What welled in her heart was not merely heat, but an inexplicable surge—like a spring deep within her soul bubbling forth without end.
Sinora did not know how to describe what she was feeling; her only desire was to live up to that expectation.
"I cannot thank you enough,"
Sinora bowed, her voice low.
Never had she imagined that one day she might leave Herrom Prison with such ease.
Even when a slave contract was unquestionably the means of maximizing benefit and minimizing risk for the King who came to rescue her, the King still chose to protect her dignity as a great demon.
"Aside from helping you deal with enemies, is there anything else you require of me?"
Sinora pressed further.
"Could you grant me your title mark?"
The Poet of Great Love gave it some thought. Since Sinora had asked of her own accord, this was the perfect chance to acquire another mark right now.
"Of course. It would be my honor,"
Sinora answered, overwhelmed by the favor.
Because things like soul imprints forcibly occupied soul space, she had assumed a demon like the New King would never spare a glance for her mark, which was why she had not brought it up.
Sinora glanced at Antanas, who promptly deactivated the protective barrier, allowing Sinora to step forward and draw closer to the Poet of Great Love.
"I may have to impose upon you slightly,"
Sinora said to the Poet of Great Love.
"No matter."
The Poet of Great Love nodded.
Having received consent, Sinora gently raised her hand, bringing her palm to rest in the empty air just before the space between the Poet of Great Love's brows.
The meager light in the gloomy cell began to tremble, and an unfathomable stillness settled over their surroundings.
Abruptly, deep, dark mist flickered in Sinora's eyes, resembling a black hole from which even light could not escape, suffused with irresistible demonic power.
The moment all this concentrated energy reached critical mass, Sinora's palm unleashed a surging tide of magic within the cell. The magical power woven from her innate magic poured forth from her palm, seeping into the center of the Poet of Great Love's forehead.
Light and shadow intertwined, harboring boundless primal power, with crimson luster flowing like blood—mysterious and eerie.
In this supreme rite of demon inheritance, as a mysterious mark gradually formed between the Poet of Great Love's brows, the mighty magic steadily subsided until, at its completion, the Great Demon Sinora finally drew back her hand.
And in that moment, the circuits of magical power that flashed through the Poet of Great Love's emerald-green pupils grew noticeably more intricate once more.
[Spellbreaker Mark]
[Category: Soul Imprint]
[Quality: Orange Epic]
[Tier: 1]
[Passive Effect: Grants a slight reduction to the effects of spells.]
[Remark: Approval of Sinora the Spellbreaker.]
Lanqi closed his eyes, sensing the brand-new great demon mark, and nodded in satisfaction.
Though his card capacity limit was now down to 36, he had gained four passive spells in exchange.
A titled great demon could grant a mark only once in their lifetime, unless they attained the ninth rank and transformed into a Great Demon Trial, in which case they could bestow marks upon more demons.
Only after the bestowal was complete would the great demon themselves discover what attribute the mark granted to the recipient.
"I apologize... My mark is not particularly strong."
Worried that her mark had disgraced the New King, Sinora hurriedly took half a step back and apologized.
"Not at all. It's a very useful mark for me. Thank you very much,"
the Poet of Great Love opened her eyes, smiling faintly with a gaze full of appreciation.
He knew from one look at Sinora the Spellbreaker that she was an extraordinary demon, and her mark was just as formidable as anticipated.
Although demons generally considered offensive marks superior to defensive ones, to Lanqi, either was fine.
As long as it wasn't the kind that "grants a moderate boost to digestive function," he was content.
Chapter 433