Juliana’s fingers curled tightly around the silver chalice.
Something was wrong.
The poison should’ve set her veins ablaze, should’ve burned the BloodWorm inside her into nothing in the blink of an eye.
Yet, as she stood there, she felt only a dull heat in abdomen.
It was still painful.
Painful enough to make her wince, to make her eyes squeeze and breath hitch, but nowhere near the agony she had prepared for.
She reached up and pressed a trembling hand to her collarbone.
The slave mark drawn from Samael’s blood should’ve been seared away by the poison… but it was still there, still etched into her skin!
The BloodWorm… it was still inside her!
Still coiled around her heart! Still sleeping!
Juliana’s grip tightened on the chalice so much that her hand shook and it fell to the ground, clattering. The sound of it echoed in the silent room that was filled only by her erratic breathing.
Her mind raced, churning through possibilities.
Did Rexerd make a mistake concocting the poison?
No.
That wasn’t possible. For the degenerate fool and the sexual predator that Rexerd was, he was a genius in the field of alchemy.
From what she had personally seen and from his past works, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that he had a mind like no other — no matter how twisted it may be.
He wouldn’t make a mistake.
So was it intentional? Did he set her up to fail?
But that didn’t make sense either. There was no reason for him to not help her after coming this far, and all the more to do so.
Then why?
Did she get the wrong ingredients?
Her lips parted, a sharp exhale escaping as frustration boiled in her chest.
No.
No, this didn’t make sense!
The Moonlight Petals and catalysts were in Rexerd’s possession from the start. So they couldn’t be wrong.
And the rest she obtained herself — from the Syrphid Slug, to Aveira Dust, and Samael’s blood.
So, what was she missing?
Juliana prided herself at rationalizing every situation, no matter how absurd, and thinking about it all with cold and calculating logic.
If she didn’t have her wits, she’d have nothing.
Or rather, she had nothing but her wits.
But today… at this particular moment… she felt herself slipping.
She felt like losing control for the first time.
S-She… she was supposed to be free!
She was supposed to be free and yet…
And yet her body still belonged to Samael Theosbane!
A slow shudder ran through her. Not from fear. Not from pain.
But from rage.
She had come so close. So fucking close.
Her nails dug into her palm.
And just right then, a weak wheezing laugh made her glance down at Rexerd.
Even with a kunai still hovering inches from his skull, the bastard was… laughing?
Why was he laughing?
“You—” He coughed, blood dripping from his lips. “You thought you were so smart, you fucking cunt? Haa! Turns out you were fooled by someone as well! Oh, isn’t this karma!”
She barely registered the blood-clogged laugh of the man on the ground.
Her fingers twitched at her side, aching for violence, but she forced them still.
Rage was a fire — useful when controlled, dangerous when let loose.
To shut her up, she resumed the flow of time around the kunai frozen in midair.
Kliech—
“ARAAAAH! ARGHH GAADH!”
In the very next second, the blade flashed forward and buried itself in Rexerd’s right eye.
A shrill scream ripped out of his throat, raw with agony.
He thrashed against the floor, his bloodied fingers clawing at his ruined eye, his entire body convulsing in pain.
Juliana simply watched.
Then she commanded the time around the kunai to rewind.
Following her will, the short blade stirred and pulled back from Rexerd’s eye as if yanked by an invisible hand before falling to the ground a few steps away.
But even as Juliana watched him writhe on the ground in unimaginable pain like an insect that had been stepped over a few times but it refused to die, she felt nothing.
No pleasure, no satisfaction like before.
Instead, she felt shaken.
Because she understood what Rexerd meant.
If she did nothing wrong and Rexerd made no mistake concocting the poison, then that meant only one thing — someone sabotaged her plan.
Which also meant they knew about what she was doing all along?
But who?
Who was it?
Well, the answer was clear.
But Juliana didn’t want to admit it in her mind.
“C-Could it be?” She stammered weakly to herself, feeling the strength leaving her body due to the poison’s side effects. “But that’s impossible…”
It was indeed impossible.
But there was no other explanation.
She was completely sure that every ingredient she acquired was genuine. Every step had been meticulous, every precaution taken.
There should’ve been no flaw…
But there was! Something obvious that she was missing.
And the only person who could’ve put it there…
Samael!
Juliana’s breath hitched.
Suddenly, she felt cold despite the searing residual heat from the poison spreading in her stomach.
Her ears started ringing, completely blocking out Rexerd’s scream.
And her stomach twisted in a way that made her sick. She felt her throat constrict and tasted something bitter in her mouth – a mixture of bile and fury.
She tried to keep herself calm. She really did.
“Arghhh!” But in the end, after losing her composure, she screamed and kicked the silver chalice on the ground and let it hit the shelf containing several pieces of glass equipment.
The chalice struck the shelf with a sharp clang, sending delicate vials and flasks shattering to the floor.
Glass exploded into countless fragments and rained down, the destruction mirroring the storm inside her.
Juliana stood there, chest heaving, hands trembling, her rage burning hotter than the poison still coursing through her veins.
Her pulse pounded hard against her skull, drowning out every sound but the ragged gasps escaping her lips.
Finally, as her mind had time to process the situation, a cold chill ran down her spine. The room seemed to shrink, walls closing in, suffocating her.
She swayed a few steps back until her vision swam and her knees buckled.
She barely caught herself before collapsing, one hand bracing against the edge of the experiment table.
Juliana didn’t immediately realize what was happening to her wasn’t only the effect of the poison. No, she was actually having a panic attack.
“What the–” She grabbed her head with a free hand and pulled on her hair.
After a long time she was experiencing a feeling she thought she had long since conquered.
Fear.
Not the fear of Samael.
No.
But the fear of the unknown.
If Juliana was right — and she had a hunch she was — then she had no idea how much Samael knew, or how many strings he pulled.
How much control did he have of the situation?
What moves did he make to get this outcome?
When did he execute his plan?
And most importantly, what was his plan?
What did he do?!
Was it not his blood? That was the most logical answer.
It was the only ingredient in the list she had no way of verifying whether it was genuine or not.
But it had to be, right?!
After all, he was injured during his duel with Jake.
His vest was soaked in blood.
So it had to be—
…Wait, he was injured right?
Juliana’s eyes widened all of a sudden. “Oh god…”
As a quick realization dawned upon her, her grip loosened on the table and she fell to the floor on her knees. Her pupils shook, her breathing coming faster and shallower.
She suddenly recalled that… she never saw Samael’s wound.
She never confirmed if he was actually injured, because she had no reason to.
Not back then, at least.
But now…
Now when the blood poison made from his blood didn’t work, it made perfect sense that the blood used in the creation of the poison wasn’t his.
It was fake! Probably someone else’s or artificial.
Regardless, it wasn’t his.
But the duel between Jake and Samael was spontaneous. Or was it planned? Was Jake working for Samael?
No, that pig could never act so convincingly.
That meant Samael was planning to deceive Juliana long before that moment. That also meant he knew what she wanted.
…Just how much did he know?
And for how long?
Her fingers trembled as she gripped the edge of the table, seeking stability that refused to come.
Her own reflection glared back at her from the shattered glass littering the floor — a distorted image of a young woman who had believed, for the first time in years, that she had control over her fate.
But it was all a lie.
“Haaha!” a sharp laugh bubbled up her throat, bitter and broken.
How long had he been playing with her?
How many of her decisions had been mere steps in a dance choreographed by him?
She clenched her jaw.
No.
No, she wouldn’t — couldn’t — accept that.
“This… can’t be,” she shakily dragged a hand through her face.
And right then, as if on cue, a scrambling noise broke her thoughts. It was the sound of the main door of this Dimensional Chamber opening.
Juliana froze, her heart hammering against her ribs as her head snapped towards the doorway.
The door swung open.
And in he came.
A tall young man, with a face so handsome that it may have been sculpted by the gods themselves. Detached eyes as bright as the burning sun and hair seemed as if made from golden threads.
He wore a simple loose black tshirt and matching comfortable joggers, and walked into the room with slow and deliberate steps like he was the star of some movie.
Like he didn’t just shatter someone’s hopes and dreams.
Juliana’s eyes widened even more upon seeing him, if that was even possible, and her blood ran cold.
Her fingers instinctively reached for the kunai, but her limbs felt sluggish. The poison, though not lethal, was still taking its toll.
How?!
How did he enter a Dimensional Chamber?! Shouldn’t it be impossible to enter these rooms unless you knew the runes necessary to summon them?!
Did he know that too?!
As those questions bombarded her mind, Samael’s boots crunched over the shattered glass as he walked towards her. That sound was eerily loud in the tense silence.
He came to stand before her kneeling figure and gazed down at her callously.
Then his lips curled up into a small, joyless smile.
“Ahh, how fortunate,” he mused, tilting his head slightly. “I came here just in time. I tried timing my entrance but feared I’d be too late.”
Juliana’s breath caught as Samael crouched in front of her, watching her with mild interest in his eyes as if studying a fascinating little creature caught in his web.
“What the hell happened to you,” he murmured, noticing the countless slash and stab wounds littered all over her body. “Wait, don’t tell me you did this to yourself? Crazy girl.”
Juliana clenched her jaw, her eyes still wide, her body still frozen, her face paler than usual.
Shock, confusion, anger — too many emotions were swirling a maelstrom in her mind. For a second it felt like her brain might shut off from not being able to process everything.
But she did manage to choke out a few words that barely made sense.
“You… How did you—” she began, trying to steady her breathing and failing. “You… knew?”
Samael’s smile widened a little. Just a little. “Of course.”
The room spun.
‘Of course.’
That was his response. So casual like it was the most normal thing in the world.
A choked laugh escaped her lips, but it was devoid of humor.
“Since when?” she breathed out. “…And how?”
He tilted his head in faux thought before shrugging.
“From the start,” he said, and the corner of his lips stretched into an insufferable smirk. “Because I was the one who set you up.”