Alastair was dragged through a rift in space without warning.
A foreign force seized him, wrenching his body away before he could resist.
A girl's voice carved into his mind, sharp and commanding.
Demon. Hear my call.
I am Vera. I summon you.
Insolent.
Who dared summon him at a time like this?
They deserved death.
Alastair clenched his jaw.
He would never forgive the one who had torn him away in the middle of such a crucial ritual—nor the fact that Grace's body had been left behind.
The world snapped back into place.
He emerged inside a vast hall, his feet touching solid ground once more.
His eyes swept across the room.
Nothing escaped him.
A large man stood nearby, nearly as tall as Alastair himself. Short brown hair. Yellow eyes. Around thirty. His posture was calm, steady, protective.
Beside him stood a tall young woman in her early twenties, dark skin, long black hair brushing past her shoulders, green eyes sharp and watchful.
A long spear rested at her waist.
She was composed—but clearly a warrior.
And then there was the child.
A small girl, perhaps twelve at most. Short brown hair tied into uneven twin tails. Brown eyes narrowed in an unmistakable scowl.
Stubborn. Defiant.
"You summoned me," Alastair said, his voice low and commanding as he fixed his gaze on the girl. "Send me back. Now."
He had no patience for this farce.
Not a second to spare.
"Huh? This is my demon partner?" the girl scoffed. "He looks pretty weak. Can I change him, Henry?"
Alastair's expression darkened.
"I am speaking to you," he snapped. "Mind your manners."
His power flared outward, pressing down on the girl with crushing force.
"You think that is enough to scare me?" she shot back, drawing a massive sword with a sharp metallic ring. "You idiot demon."
"Wait, Vera," the large man—Henry—stepped between them. "What was the first lesson I ever taught you?"
"…Respect your demon partner," Vera replied with a shrug.
"And what are you doing now?" Henry scolded. "This is your first meeting, and you're already being rude."
"I haven't accepted him as my partner," Vera retorted. "Why should I respect him?"
Henry sighed.
"You're going to give me a headache."
He turned back to Alastair.
"I imagine you're confused. Allow me to explain. My name is Henry. I'm an A-rank demon hunter, and I'm Vera's mentor. This is Simone, my demon partner."
The woman inclined her head in acknowledgment.
"And you are?" Henry asked.
"Alastair."
"Alastair," Henry continued, "Vera summoned you in order to form a contract as her demon partner."
"Demon partner?" Alastair said.
"Vera is taking the final examination to become a full-fledged demon hunter. She's passed every other trial. The last requirement is to form a bond with a demon."
"I will never become a partner to a foul-mouthed child like her," Alastair's voice did not change. "Send me back. Immediately."
His thoughts were already elsewhere—back at the ritual, back at Grace.
Nothing else mattered.
"You should know," Henry remained calm, "that any demon who refuses to form a contract after being summoned will be exterminated. However, if you accept the contract, you will not be exterminated. Both demon and hunter benefit from the arrangement."
"Exterminate me?" Alastair laughed. "Then try."
Vera lunged at him without hesitation.
Henry and Simone remained back, watching.
Alastair smiled and unleashed a direct assault on Vera's soul—clean, precise, lethal.
"Vera! Get back!" Henry shouted, his face draining of color.
He threw himself into her path, taking the attack head-on.
"Gah—!" Henry cried out, his body locking rigid with agony.
"Release him," Simone's voice did not waver, leveling her spear at Alastair. Her aura surged with killing intent.
"Come at me together, then," Alastair replied.
Simone and Vera attacked in tandem.
It was useless.
Alastair deflected every strike with effortless disdain.
"If you don't want him to lose his soul," Alastair tightened his grip on Henry, "send me back. Now."
"And how exactly am I supposed to do that, idiot demon?" Vera snapped. "He's the only one who knows how! If you drain his soul, you'll never get back where you came from!"
"Hmph. Insolent child."
Alastair reached for her—
Simone's spear intercepted him.
"I said, release him," she warned, hurling the weapon with lethal force.
Alastair caught it midair—and threw it back.
The spear pierced straight through Simone's chest.
"Ugh—!"
Blood burst from the wound as she collapsed to the floor.
"Simone!" Henry and Vera cried out in unison.
Henry struggled.
Alastair did not move.
"Father of Time," Vera whispered, dropping to her knees beside Simone.
"Please… rewind her body by thirty seconds."
Light flared beneath Vera's hands.
In an instant, Simone's wound vanished—as if it had never existed.
Alastair froze.
"…Impossible."
His concentration slipped.
Henry tore free and rushed to Simone's side.
"Are you alright?"
Simone touched her chest in disbelief, then looked up at Vera.
"You can use time magic," Henry breathed. "Just like Benjamin."
"Don't say that name," Vera snapped. "That useless old man."
Alastair approached, eyes locked onto Vera—not with rage, but something far more dangerous.
Interest.
"You are more useful than I thought,"
Time reversal…
If she could rewind time to before Grace was cursed—
Vera stiffened under his gaze.
"I have something I need you to do," Alastair continued.
"First, return me to where I was summoned from. Second, rewind a body by one thousand years."
"What?! That's impossible!" Vera protested. "I don't even know where you came from! And I can only rewind time ten days at most!"
"…Ten days."
Alastair frowned.
Ten days was insufficient to change the distant past—but enough to undo Charlotte's interference.
Enough to restore Grace's memories.
Yes.
This would suffice.
"Can you alter events within a soul?" he asked.
"I've never tried," Vera admitted. "But… I think I could."
"Good." His voice hardened. "You will work for me. And find someone who can return me at once. We're running out of time."
"Just because I can doesn't mean I will, you idiot demon!" Vera snapped, planting her hands on her hips, glaring up at him.
"I do not accept refusal," Alastair said, leaning down until his shadow swallowed her. "Refuse me—and you die."
"So what?" Vera shot back, chin raised. "I've never been afraid of death. No one orders me around."
"Vera," Henry kept his voice measured, "why not form a contract with him? Help him—on the condition that he becomes your partner."
"No way!"
"I refuse," Alastair said at the same time.