As Noir stepped back into the house, he placed the tableware down on the counter with a quiet clink. His crimson eyes drifted across the room, and a sudden thought struck him—the book.
He turned toward the table where he last remembered seeing it, but it wasn't there. Frowning, he searched the cluttered shelves and corners, moving back and forth in quick, purposeful strides.
"Where did it go?" he muttered, his voice edged with frustration as his search grew more frantic.
Nimfa's POV
Outside, Nimfa clenched her fists, a newfound resolve burning in her chest. "I have to do what I can," she said aloud, her voice steady with determination. Despite the uncertainty of her situation, she had reached a decision.
Her golden eyes sharpened with purpose as she hurried back to the house. She had to speak to Noir, to make her intentions clear.
Dashing through the door, she skidded to a stop, her breath catching slightly when she saw him pacing the room. "What are you doing?" she asked, her voice rising with curiosity and concern.
Noir barely glanced at her, his expression tense. "The book—did you see it?" he asked, his tone urgent, with an undercurrent of worry that caught her off guard.
Nimfa blinked, startled by his question. Then, as realization dawned, she pointed toward the upper corner of the room. "Ah, the book. I put it up there when I was cleaning," she said, gesturing toward a small shelf near the ceiling.
Noir followed her gaze, his crimson eyes locking onto the book perched atop the shelf. Without a word, he moved to retrieve it, his focus entirely fixed on the object.
Nimfa's Perspective
She watched him in silence for a moment, her expression slowly shifting. "Look, you really should pay more attention to your house—and your things!" she said, her voice rising slightly as she placed her hands on her hips in exasperation.
But her words fell on deaf ears. Noir didn't even glance her way, his attention consumed by the book as he carefully pulled it down from the shelf.
A pang of frustration and hurt welled up in Nimfa's chest. Her golden eyes flickered with emotion as she bit her lip, her earlier resolve wavering. Why does he always act so detached? Does he even care about what I have to say?
The silence between them grew heavier, and something inside her snapped. She took a deep breath, her voice cutting through the quiet with surprising force.
"I will follow you," she declared, her tone steady but tinged with defiance.
Noir froze, the book still in his hands. Slowly, he turned to face her, his crimson eyes narrowing slightly as he regarded her.
"For the time being," Nimfa continued, her gaze unwavering, "I'll stay by your side. I need to find a way back to the Celestial Plane—and whether you cast me out or leave me behind, I'll still follow you."
Noir's POV
For a moment, the room was still. Noir's eyes searched her face, taking in the unshakable determination written in her expression. Her golden eyes, fiery with purpose, seemed to pierce through the stoic wall he had built around himself.
He didn't say anything. Instead, he turned his attention back to the book, holding it as if it were fragile.
"Do what you want," he said at last, his voice even but guarded. The words were dismissive, but there was a faint flicker of something in his tone—something he wasn't ready to show.
Nimfa's POV
Nimfa frowned, her chest tightening at his response. She had expected resistance or even anger, but his indifference stung in a way she hadn't anticipated. Do I even matter to him?
Her fingers curled into fists at her sides, but she forced herself to take a calming breath. "Fine," she said softly, her voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside her. "I'll prove I can be useful."
She turned away, her silver hair catching the faint light as she walked toward the door. But even as she moved, her mind raced.
Noir... why do you keep pushing people away?
As Noir opened the book to the first page, his eyes skimmed over the words written in elegant, flowing script:
"The one you will meet will mark the beginning of change in your fate. Whether you follow the guiding path or walk the opposite road will depend on your choices and actions throughout your life."
Beneath the passage, smaller letters were etched into the parchment, written with an unmistakably familiar hand:
"My son, I will always watch over you and wait for you."
The moment Noir finished reading the last line, the book snapped shut on its own, as if preventing him from turning the page. His grip tightened around the worn leather cover, his mind racing.
The words lingered in his thoughts.
"My son, I will always watch over you and wait for you."
Noir's POV
"Was this book originally from my late mother?"
The question gnawed at him, deepening the pit of uncertainty in his chest. He hadn't thought of her in years—not since he walked away from everything.
"How could she know what's happening to me now?"
His crimson eyes flickered toward the ceiling as if searching for an answer beyond the wooden beams of his house. But there was nothing. Only silence.
A heavy breath escaped his lips. Sigh... Things are going to get noisy again.
But this time, he wouldn't run from it.
His decision was made.
Noir tilted his head toward the window, the warm sunlight piercing through the wooden slats, casting long shadows across the floor. The light reflected in his crimson gaze, which burned with renewed determination.
"If I want to be ready for what's coming, I need to regain my full strength."
His muscles tensed at the thought. He had spent years keeping his power suppressed, avoiding unnecessary conflicts—but that time was over.
He turned away from the window, stepping toward his bed. There was something he needed to check.
Dropping to one knee, he reached beneath the wooden frame, his fingers brushing against a hidden compartment. With a small pull, he slid out an old wooden box, its surface covered in dust and marked with a magical seal that still pulsed faintly.
He stared at it for a long moment before brushing his hand over the top, sending a cloud of dust into the air.
"Ah… the nagging angel is going to be angry again," he muttered, smirking slightly to himself.
Leaning back, he watched as the dust settled, taking in the sight of the sealed box. It had been a decade since he last touched it—since he last had reason to.
With a flick of his fingers, he dispelled the seal, the magic dissolving like shattered glass.
Inside the box lay two items: a mask and a ring.
The mask was eerie, almost lifelike—crafted in the image of a human face, but with its right side painted in red, adorned with a strange, ancient symbol. The moment the seal was lifted, an ominous energy leaked from it, filling the air with a suffocating weight.
A ghostly wail echoed through the room, faint and sorrowful.
A soul was trapped inside.
Noir's expression darkened. He had nearly forgotten how sinister this thing was.
With a practiced hand, he wove a binding spell over the mask, his magic forcing the restless soul into submission. The suffocating presence dissipated, and the wailing ceased, leaving behind an unnatural silence.
Satisfied, he fastened the mask to his left waist.
Next, his gaze fell upon the ring.
It was dark silver, its centerpiece a demonic eye—violet with a deep crimson core. The eye seemed to shimmer with an unsettling awareness, as if it were watching him.
Noir hesitated before picking it up, running his thumb over its smooth surface.
"It's already been a decade since I last touched this thing," he murmured.
A part of him had wanted to leave it buried forever. But now, he had no choice.
Tying a rope around it, he looped it around his neck, allowing the ring to rest against his chest.
With that done, he reached for the book, tucking it safely into his pouch.
His preparations were complete.
Noir stepped outside, the fresh air washing over him as he took in the sight before him.
Nimfa sat beneath a large tree, her silver hair shimmering under the golden sunlight. Animals had gathered around her—birds perched on the branches above, rabbits nestled in the grass near her feet, and a young deer nuzzling her cheek affectionately.
Her soft laughter carried through the air as she gently pushed the deer away, her golden eyes filled with warmth.
Noir stilled, watching the scene unfold.
For a brief moment, everything felt... peaceful.
Too peaceful.
His crimson eyes flickered with unreadable emotion. Angels weren't meant to linger in a demon's world.