He was gradually falling apart.

Every morning he greeted her with gentle smile, reassuring her that he was feeling well while there were times he could not even manage to stand up straight. His days were numbered. If he was not supplied with mana soon, he would vanish from this world. That, Medusa painfully knew.

A single drop of tear twinkled in a pale, starless night. A single spark of innocence shone in the sinister darkness.

As she completed her “Blood Fort Andromeda”, a single drop of tear rolled down her cheek.

Her tear was not for the pitiable humans whose souls were about to be consumed by her elaborate trap; she was too used to killing.

Her tear was shed in thinking of him, of her lover. Medusa knew that it would smear his knightly code if she resorted to this vile method, that it would be far more painful than death for him should he ever learn of this truth.

However despicable the means was, she had to do it. For she wanted him to live, needed him to live.

To save her lover, she was willing to commit any sins.

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