The Mark.

Like the seal a demon imprints on their contractor, a mark signifies subordination, a symbol of submission between demon summoners. Although I was still a novice in demon magic, I knew enough about the implications of a mark. I had come dangerously close to becoming a marked one myself.

Malebris, the demon summoner who had pursued Ray, had declared he would mark me, turning me into his slave. He said I would become a servant, an experiment, and ultimately, a sacrifice.

Being alive yet unable to claim that life as your own—that is what a mark represented, at least from what I knew.

“Let me just ask this to be sure,” I began, wanting to clarify if the mark Mea was asking for was the same as what I feared.

“Is this mark the same one you use to make a person your slave?”

Mea nodded.

“...From what I’ve heard, it’s used to establish a hierarchical relationship between summoners, building a system of control,” I said, recalling Malebris's claims.

His boasts might not have been entirely trustworthy, but from the way he had spoken, there had to be some truth to it. My suspicion was confirmed by Mea’s next words.

“You’re exactly right.”

But why would she ask for that?

I couldn’t understand.

I had lived as a slave, never knowing when or why my life might be snuffed out. The slave mark on my body had once been a deadly curse, able to end my life at my master’s whim.

Even now, though the magic was removed, the scar remained, a reminder of the weight I had carried for so long. The stress of living with a gun aimed at your head, wondering when it might go off, was something I would never forget.

I kept that mark hidden not only to conceal my past but also because seeing it reminded me of those painful memories.

And yet, Mea was asking for that kind of mark to be placed on her willingly. It was incomprehensible to me.

But Mea calmly explained.

“A mark isn’t entirely one-sided. It’s a two-way bond. It’s just that the control is heavily skewed in one direction.”

I thought that didn’t change anything, but Mea’s next explanation shattered my assumptions.

“The one who holds the power in the bond can also take on the burdens of the other, if they choose.”

“Burdens? Like a curse?” I asked, confused.

“In most cases, yes.”

Now I understood why Mea had asked me to mark her.

It wasn’t that hard to grasp, really. I had simply been blinded by my negative experiences with the concept, leading to an instinctual rejection of the idea.

“Your contracted demons are stronger than mine. I can sense them. The two great demons lurking behind you, Roman.”

Normally, a summoner wouldn’t be able to detect another’s contracted demons. Even Hecate, who Mea acknowledged as superior, couldn’t do that.

But somehow, when it came to Mea, it felt natural that she could.

Dark elf intuition, perhaps? Whatever it was, it made sense, in its own strange way.

“So, you want to use the mark to shift your burdens from your current contract to mine, is that it?”

“Exactly.”

“What about Hecate?”

Seir and Lerazie had told me Hecate’s contracted demon was of exceptionally high rank. If even my two demons were impressed, it meant Hecate could easily mark Mea herself.

“Burdens don’t just disappear, Roman,” Mea answered.

A mark couldn’t erase the cost of a demonic contract. It could only transfer that cost to someone else. Someone would always have to pay the price.

“But you’re different, Roman.”

Mea’s voice carried an unshakable conviction, as though she understood me better than I understood myself.

“You’re loved by demons. You receive limitless gifts from beings who would normally strip away life and soul in exchange for their sweet power. You could probably dispel even my burdens with a mere breath. And in fact, you already have.”

That one act—when I had helped her sleep—seemed to have been more significant than I realized.

“Even though the mark would force you to obey my commands?” I asked, looking for a reason not to agree.

“Would you?”

Her question left me without an answer.

“I can’t say for sure, can I?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Excuse me?”

“If you wanted to, I wouldn’t mind.”

She had already made her decision.

Mea’s request wasn’t something made in the heat of the moment. During those two weeks in the Abyss, she had thought it through, analyzed it, and arrived at this conclusion.

She was ready to give up everything, as long as I would take on her burdens in return.

“…Was this what you discussed with Hecate?” I asked.

“No, I didn’t tell her.”

That only complicated things further.

Should I grant her request or not?

I fell silent, lost in thought. Mea waited patiently, giving me the space to think.

Her burden was her dreams—taken from her, replaced by nightmares that replayed her worst memories. It was a cruel price, forcing her to relive the pain over and over, depriving her of restful sleep.

But maybe it wasn’t just about the dreams.

Given how meticulously she kept her exploration logs, and how she checked them the moment she woke up, it seemed likely that her memories, too, were part of the price. She was losing pieces of herself, forgetting everything she experienced, all the emotions and moments that made life meaningful.

“...Alright.”

“What?”

“I’ll do it. I’ll grant your request.”

Mea’s eyes widened in surprise, as if she hadn’t expected me to agree so easily.

“But you’ll have to teach me how. I don’t know how to do it.”

“…Okay!”

§

It was nearly dawn by the time Mea left Roman’s room and descended to the first floor.

The first thing she saw was Hecate, sitting at the counter, sipping from a bottle of wine she had clearly been saving for a special occasion.

“Hecate.”

“…Congratulations.”

Mea pulled out a chair and sat beside her, acknowledging the unexpected congratulations.

“So, does this mean you’ll be leaving now, too?”

With the exception of its ghost members, there were only five people left in Telema School. Of those, only Hecate and Mea really cared about the school’s affairs.

If Mea left, Telema would lose its status as an official school entirely.

“No. I’m staying.”

“…Why? You don’t have to worry about the burden anymore. You could easily rise to the level of an expert.”

“That’s exactly why. Roman doesn’t want to be protected by anyone.”

Roman’s goal was ascension, to grow stronger.

All his progress so far had come from fighting for his life, battling to survive. If Mea became part of his journey, it would make things safer for him.

But having Mea around would also stifle him, a psychological comfort that would slow his growth. Roman understood that well.

So, he had rejected her offer to follow him, vowing to meet her on equal footing one day.

“Hecate.”

“Hm?”

“I’m going back into the Abyss.”

But Mea wasn’t content to wait for Roman to catch up to her.

“Alone? The team you used to work with… they’ve all retired or…”

Died.

Some had perished in the Abyss, others had been caught in deadly disputes.

The passage of time had claimed them all.

“I’ll contact some of the other members.”

“Good. Alcaine will probably join you.”

“And about the thing Roman found... It’s the real deal, isn’t it?”

The book Roman had found. Apart from the first page, its contents were encrypted. Roman had entrusted it to Hecate for appraisal.

Hecate had known immediately what it was. And even Mea had suspected, though she wasn’t entirely sure.

“Yes. It’s her handwriting—Wollstonecraft.”

Cordelia Wollstonecraft, the founder of Les Lyman and the first Grand Duke alongside the legendary explorer Rovard, the mother of alchemy.

The book Roman had found had been written by her.

Knowing this only increased Mea’s astonishment.

Roman had destroyed a mechanism created by Cordelia Wollstonecraft, overloading it with an immense amount of mana. When Mea realized this, she knew for certain.

“Roman is… special.”

“I know.”

“Hecate, you…”

“Mea.”

At Hecate’s firm tone, Mea closed her mouth.

“Even if Telema is crumbling, I’m still the school’s leader. I’ve never forgotten that. I never will.”

There’s pride, even for those who have fallen from grace.

Hecate downed the rest of her drink.

§

“I’ll join the school. With Mea’s situation and the cipher to decode, it seems like the right move.”

Roman opened his coin purse, wondering how much the entrance fee would be. His pouch was stuffed with silver and gold coins, with platinum coins peeking out here and there.

He grabbed a handful and laid them on the counter.

Silver rupees worth a thousand each and gold rupees worth ten thousand clattered down in a cascade of shimmering light.

“Will this cover it?”

Roman’s voice didn’t register with Hecate at first. Her senses were entirely captivated by the dazzling pile of coins before her.

Her eyes, ears, even her mouth—everything was fixated on the fortune in front of her.

And realizing that it was indeed real, that the amount totaled a staggering 88,000 rupees, Hecate could no longer hold herself back.

“Me too! Give me a mark too!”