The Eclipsed Bloom
Chapter 90: Two slaves

Chapter 90: Chapter 90: Two slaves

"Okay, I accept," Megan finally said with a huff.

Avery gave a slight nod, voice flat. "Then repeat after me: ’Demon Mind General, I accept your deal.’"

Megan nodded and began, "Demon Mind Genera—"She stopped mid-sentence, her face scrunching with suspicion.

Avery frowned. "What is it now?"

Megan pointed a finger at him, eyes wide.

"Are you seriously asking me to accept a deal with a demon? Are you a fool?! What if this is one of those tricks where they make you their eternal slave? I watched an anime like this a month ago—first they act all helpful, then boom—hell collar."

Avery’s brow twitched. For a moment, his eyes darkened with conflicted thoughts.

’...She’s not wrong. She might actually have a working brain cell under that brain. I didn’t realize it before—maybe because I was drowning in memories of Piper.’

His jaw clenched.

’But it doesn’t matter. Even if it’s slavery—I’ll accept anything to avenge my wife. Demon or not, if he gets in my way to avenge my wife... he’ll regret ever choosing me.’

His voice grew sharp again. "Are you accepting or not? If not, I’m leaving. I don’t have time to waste on your drama."

Megan crossed her arms defiantly. "Hey! I’m just asking logical questions. Why are you so mean all the time?"

Avery turned away, fists clenched, and began walking toward the door without answering.

Megan’s eyes widened. "Wait! Okay, okay—don’t leave! What if something really does happen to me?"

Avery stopped in his tracks but didn’t turn around. His voice came cold and impatient. "Then stop stalling and say it. I don’t care if you believe or not. Decide now."

Megan pouted, muttering under her breath, "Ugh, what an irritating man..."

Then, more clearly, she said, "Demon Mind General... I accept your deal."

’ughh what a cringe line’

Avery’s eyes narrowed as he watched the red thread around Megan’s neck begin to glow faintly, shimmering with otherworldly light. It pulsed once—twice—then began to tighten like a serpent, slowly sinking into her skin as if vanishing into her very soul.

Megan gasped. "W-What’s happening!?"

She stumbled back in panic, legs wobbling. Avery stepped forward instinctively and caught her with one arm, holding her upright with a casual grip as if she weighed nothing.

Her breath trembled. "W-What do you want now...?"

Avery didn’t answer. He simply stared down at her his grip firm without care, eyes looking toward her neck and her hairs as they turn purple.

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[Demon realm]

The sky burned crimson like a volcano eruption, casting a haunting glow on thousands—no, billions—of floating islands. Suspended over an endless void, the islands drifted as if tied by invisible chains of dark energy. Above them, silence reigned. But below... anyone goes below if he is not strong then this is his end.

On one of this islands, vast enough to dwarf Earth, stood a black obsidian castle.

Inside its throne hall, a monstrous figure lounged on a twisted throne. Its form was blurred, unrecognizable. No features marked it as human. Its voice, however, echoed with unmistakable malice.

"Hahahaha... Success! We’ve now bound two slaves on that realm. Just a few more then our work will be easier and we can make all humans our slave... and one planet will be mine!"

Laughter thundered through the dark hall, making the shadows ripple like water.

Beside him, another dark entity—similarly featureless—sat with his arms folded.

"What do you gain by conquering that realm? You do realize how many pantheons are protecting it, and many god kings follower are there if something happen to that realm and gods stop getting divine power then you know what will happen right?"

The first entity stopped laughing. Slowly its head turned toward the second entity.

"So what if it’s protected? You know as well as I do—the realm’s consciousness has locked the gods out. They can’t fully manifest anymore."

It leaned forward, claws digging into the stone arms of the throne.

"If we control that realm’s core... its energy grid... we’ll have access to more dark mana than the entire demon realm combined. Trillions of galaxies, all ripe for draining."

Its voice deepened to a chilling whisper.

"I will become more powerful than any god king. Even more powerful than the Demon King."

The second being scoffed.

"Delusions again. You forget—while Earth may be vast, the demon realm still dwarfs it in pure density and almost all demons in all realms is follower’s of demon king. Even if you drain a few galaxies, you’ll never match the Demon King’s core power. although he is seal now but if he is free which is near than all dark mana will be his"

He glanced sideways. "Besides, the pantheons may not be able to enter directly, but their avatars still give powers to priests mortals. Do you really think they’ll sit by while you build your slave army?"

The throne rumbled as the first entity rose, eyes blazing like twin suns in the darkness.

"They can try to stop me."

His voice crackled with madness.

"But they’re too late. That girl—the one with the thread—has already accepted the bond. And my knight will make her under his command and then he will build army for me if he did not i will force him. in decades this is my second opportunity and i will not waste it like before"

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Elarion World – Capital Emberfall – House Valemir

The grand estate of House Valemir stood tall and pristine, its white marble walls accented with sapphire-blue trim, a symbol of ancient nobility and frost-aligned magic.

In the knights’ training grounds behind the manor, a petite girl with jet-black hair practiced alone, her slender hands gripping a silver-blue staff. With each precise swing, icy blades materialized midair, slicing toward distant training dummies and exploding in a flurry of frost.

Footsteps echoed from behind.

Mia paused, her brows furrowing. She turned around, already knowing who it was.

An elegant old woman approached, draped in deep blue robes. Though her hair was silver, her posture still carried the poise of command.

Mia sighed.

"Grandma," she said flatly, "if you’re here to talk about marriage again, then the answer is still no. I’m not interested."

The old woman’s expression hardened slightly, her voice tinged with exasperation."Mia, why can’t you understand? It’s my last wish—to see my granddaughter married and to hold my great-grandson in my arms before I pass. Is that really so wrong?"

Mia groaned, then switched to a honeyed tone that barely hid her sarcasm.

"Grandmaaa, I just... don’t like that Alex. You know he’s a playboy."

The lady’s brows twitched.

"Don’t say such nonsense, girl. I’ve tested that boy myself, many times. He’s solid. Well-mannered althought he can be bit arrogant but i know he like you. and he Comes from a good lineage."

"haa like me never He’s two-faced," Mia shot back, crossing her arms. "He pretends to be nice around you. I’ve seen the real him. Always surrounded by girls, always making backhanded comments about my friends. He even told me I shouldn’t associate with commoners!"

Just then, another voice cut through the argument.

"Mia," said a calm, masculine tone. "I know Alex. He may be arrogant, but he’s not a playboy or a liar."

Mia turned sharply. A tall man with long black hair and sharp, familiar features approached them—her elder brother, Liam.

"Brother Liam, of course you’d say that," she snapped. "He’s your friend. But I saw him hugging another girl with my own eyes! Even if he wasn’t cheating, his personality is unbearable. Controlling, arrogant, dismissive—he doesn’t even respect my friends!"

Liam raised a hand, sighing deeply.

"Alex... what have you done to get on Mia’s bad side this much?" he muttered under his breath. Then, more seriously, he added,

"We can’t just cancel this engagement without proper grounds, Mia. You know how these noble contracts work."

Mia clenched her fists.

"Then I’ll make proper grounds. i will gather proof about him,"

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House Haldrin Territory

A sleek black carriage stopped before the gates of Haldrin Manor. The door creaked open, and a woman with shimmering silver hair and piercing silver eyes stepped out. Her gaze lifted to the towering manor ahead.

"Haaah... I’m excited to see Father again—but I really don’t want to deal with her. What a headache..."

With a composed expression masking her inner thoughts, Elira walked toward the manor entrance. The guards standing at attention quickly bowed upon recognizing her. Some held genuine respect in their eyes—others merely followed protocol. A few maids peeked from the side halls, their gazes filled with disdain and whispered judgments.

Inside the grand hall, her silver eyes scanned the room until they landed on a sharp-featured middle-aged man dressed in an immaculate white suit. His hair—just like hers—gleamed silver under the chandelier light.

The man immediately stood up, spreading his arms wide.

"Elira, my daughter! How are you?"

A genuine smile tugged at her lips as she stepped forward and hugged him tightly.

"I’m alright, Father. How have you been?"

Haldrin chuckled, patting her back. "Good, good. Seeing you here makes me feel even better. But tell me, young lady—why were you so late? Your academy ended over a week ago, didn’t it? And you didn’t even come home. I had to hear it from your mother."

Elira’s smile faded. She stepped back and sighed, her voice cooling.

"Father... you were at the border when my term ended. That’s why I didn’t come. And..." she added under her breath, "she’s not my mother. You know that."

Haldrin frowned, his hand gently ruffling her hair. Concern flickered in his eyes.

’Why does she refuse to accept Ailany as her mother? Did I make the wrong choice in marrying her...? I just wanted to make sure she has a mother love?’

As his thoughts spiraled, a high-pitched, overly concerned voice rang from the grand staircase.

"Elira! Oh, thank goodness—you’re finally home. I was so worried when you didn’t come back earlier."

Elira’s expression instantly stiffened. She turned toward the stairs, her silver eyes narrowing.

There stood Ailany, her brown-black hair cascading over her shoulders, dressed in a perfectly arranged gown, her face plastered with a dramatic look of worry—as if she were playing the lead in a tragic play.

Elira’s inner voice seethed.

’And the performance begins.’

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