Serenel's gradual realisation that its back alley population was diminishing went unnoticed for a considerable duration. The reports of missing individuals, trickling into the Serenal Police at a rate of at least one each week, failed to register in the consciousness of the blissful citizens engrossed in their daily lives and concerns. However, the Chief's scrutiny finally brought to light a startling revelation - a tally of fifteen sudden disappearances.

The growing number of missing persons might have continued to escape notice, eventually fading into the background, if not for the conspicuous rise in the word 'Missing.' This term became a sombre addition to the graffiti-covered walls that adorned nearly every street, transforming urban art into a silent plea for answers. Flyers, caught by the wind, gracefully danced in the air, eventually finding their place among their scattered peers on the city's roads.

Despite these ominous signs, the situation remained on the fringe of becoming a full-blown case. The investigations proceeded at a pace that mirrored snail's infamous speed, threatening to sweep the matter under the proverbial carpet of bureaucratic routine. Yet, the city's concern persisted, etched in the walls and written across the fluttering flyers.

It wasn't until one dull afternoon that the gravity of the situation crystallised. A body was discovered in one of the infamous alleys, casting a dark shadow over the city's sense of security. The incident marked the turning point, thrusting the once-overlooked disappearances into the forefront of public attention.

The material submitted for forensic testing defied conventional identification, resembling little of the human anatomy. What should have been bone appeared as thin, elongated structures reminiscent of sticks, devoid of any natural curvature. The crust-like remnants clung stubbornly, resisting any attempts to categorise them, akin to a fine powder of wheat flour or the ashes left in the wake of a cremation.

The most striking features were the unsettling orbs with their distinct contrast - a pristine white hue juxtaposed against the pitch-black rounds that marked them as eyes. These grotesque remnants formed an eerie spectral composition that defied the boundaries of the known and plunged the observer into an unsettling realm of a mystery.

The source of these macabre findings remained an enigma, shrouded in the ominous reputation of the infamous back alley. The town's residents, each haunted by the possibility, anticipated the ominous delivery of another chilling reminder on their doorstep the following morning. A collective sense of dread settled over the town, casting a shadow on their daily lives.

As forensic test results came in, revealing the identity of the unfortunate victim, the revelation only deepened the unsettling nature of the discovery. The deceased was unrecognisable to most Serenel residents, a nameless drunkard known to few. The revelation of the deceased drunkard's familial ties added a layer of poignancy to the unfolding tragedy.

The once faceless individual, whose existence was known only to the shadows of the back alley, now emerged into the harsh light of public scrutiny. His photograph, starkly contrasted against newspaper headlines and featured in breaking news segments, brought an unexpected intimacy to the town's collective consciousness.

In the sombre gaze of his captured image, the man's anonymity dissolved, and the realisation dawned that he was not just another casualty but a person with connections - a husband and a father. The unfolding drama gripped the town, weaving an intricate narrative of mystery, loss, and the haunting spectre of the ominous back alley.

Even Ada was taken aback by his appearance on the news - a haunting reminder of a past encounter in the alley. Memories of evading his advances flooded back. The news painted a grim picture, dredging up a past she had tried to forget. Seated amidst an unusual trio, Ada found herself flanked by an elf and a demon, both partaking in the freshly made popcorn she had prepared. Her eyes remained fixed on the television screen, absorbing the unfolding events.

"He won't endure feasting on Normies for long-eh" remarked the elf, breaking the momentary silence that lingered in the room.

Before the intrusive news disrupted their movie session, Ada had been captivated by the rings adorning the Dark Lord's hands-elegant yet exuding a distinctly masculine aura. Each finger bore a specific ring, showcasing a variety of shapes and sizes. The black gem-like stones embedded in them added a mysterious allure to the ensemble.

"Yeah, a soul of a Normie is no better than a single drop of water in a whole desert. What is he even thinking?" remarked the Dark Lord, his tone composed and detached. He casually dipped his fingers into the off-white ball of popcorn, the clattering of his adorned rings adding a subtle cadence to the ambient tension.

Ada watched them with a mixture of surprise and dread as the two creatures seemed nonchalant, discussing the recent deaths as if it were a mundane topic, akin to predicting rain in the evening rather than a series of gruesome events. She peered into the Dark Lord's face, searching for explanations.

"What?" he finally noticed her pointed gaze and asked.

"People are dying."

"And?"

"AND?!"

"What, people die all the time," he stated matter-of-factly and shrugged.

"Yes, they do. Just not like that," Ada pointed to the TV where a woman delivered the news of authorities being concerned about Serenel's recent paranormal activities.

"Honestly, I didn't know what you expected from a dark entity that has run wild and on the loose," The Dark Lord sighed. "At least now you see why I insist on you becoming strong. Why your training is so hard."

And that made Ada feel a little guilty. Even that evening, she had whined about not wanting to go for training and somehow convinced Devereaux to take a break for just one evening. So, they were seated in front of the TV, tuning into a late evening kids' movie marathon with popcorn. Initially, she had made the popcorn for herself, but at the moment, she was the only one who hadn't been lucky enough to get a single bite.

"I-I feel so bad," she confessed, the weight of guilt heavy on her shoulders as her head hung low.

The Dark Lord hummed in response and put another handful of popcorn, focusing on the movie that had resumed after the news.

"Are you even listening to me?" she snapped.

"Yeah?"

"You're of no use," snatching the remote controller from the elf she switched off the TV.

The Dark Lord sighed in defeat as he set down the bowl and turned to her. The elf sat on her other side, silently watching the exchange.

"Okay, you're feeling guilty. And?"

"I want to correct myself."

"Very good. But I don't know think you're prepared to face Gan yet. "

"Like I'm definitely not ready to just go in front of him and call him out for a duel. Even if I do I wouldn't be able to destroy him without getting destroy because of the pact."

"Bingo!"

"I'm sure Auden is suffering-" she felt hot tears pooling in her eyes.

It had been a while since she had cried the last time. In fact, after allowing Devereaux into her world, she had shed fewer tears, to the point that she no longer really remembered how it felt to cry. Fueled with adrenaline and the determination of a singular goal, he had led her to a place where she no longer felt alone.

He reached out to wipe off a tear rolling down her cheek, his fingers softly brushing over her warm skin."Just say the word Ada and I'll have him dusted to oblivion. You know you can use me."

"No! Not that way!" She protested. "We've already gone through this--Dev I can't lose you!"

When she made a deal with him she made sure Devereaux wouldn't get to mediate in her affair unless she wanted so. A vow was pledged and even the darkest entity of the dark side couldn't not obey to such pacts made between realms for it held the balance and those laws were the sturdiest of all powers to govern. Or so she was trying to deny herself from convincing her that she didn't wanna see Gan gone. Gone forever. Gone for good. Sure she wanted him to feel the pain she had endured all along, first hand, but a tiny part of her soul which could also be that fraction of his soul Gan left in her, wanted to bargain.

"How about you call Romersais for help-eh?" The elf who was silently sitting so far commented, both the raven demon and the former heiress's turning to its side.

"Romersai? Huh!" Devereaux scoffed. "As if they cared." He plopped his head on the back of the couch, scowling.

Ada hesitated. As much as she wasn't ready to face Gan, she was wary about facing her family. If they weren't on good terms before, the incident involving Erixir must have made things worse. She knew for a fact that it remained a mysterious death to the whole Moon Town, just not to Hanna. Hanna had her ways of seeing past veils and walls.

"He got a point. They won't listen to me," she admitted, her voice low.

"Hanna might." The elf suggested. "Eh-Erixir is gone now. She's in the lead."

Ada focused her attention on the elf as Devereaux just side eyed it from his anguish of a lying position.

"Hasn't he been the obstacle that separated you from the rest of Romersai-eh?" Flitch continued.

He had indeed been one of the obstacles that obscured her path back home. If only she knew a little earlier that he was on Gan's side, that he was such a deceiver, that he was after power, and the family was the least of his concerns. She wouldn't have let him go that far.

It was only after it was too late, only after he had managed to paint her red, make her the criminal, and reveal her as the ultimate flaw, that she had exposed his true face. In her quest to survive, she hadn't gotten a chance to warn Hanna or her people. If Devereaux had not saved her that day, she might have gone down in their family history as just another villain whose story from their end was never heard.

"He's gone, but the problems he created are still there," Ada whispered, her voice choked with emotion, tears fell freely, a mixture of sorrow, regret, and the weight of unspoken burdens. "I need to get the Luna Pearl to be gone" For the pact to be broken. For peace arrive.

She had decided it. It wouldn't be Devereaux. She stroke the deal so he couldn't act on his own accord. No matter how powerful he was every Dark Entity were bound to the Dark Side's rules. It wouldn't be Romersai. She'd manage to convince them though she was skeptical about their loyalty. So she needed the sacred heirloom, the Luna Pearl, with what she stroke the deal with Gan. With what she could end it. Before going to the fatal option.

Devereaux, sensing her anguish, gently cupped her face, his touch a comforting anchor in the tempest of emotions. He tenderly wiped away her tears, the mocking scowl vanishing as his gaze softened in understanding and empathy.

"Shh ... it's alright. I'm here," he whispered, "We'll get through this together."

Ada's tear-blurred vision met Devereaux's gaze, his amber eyes revealing a tender emotion that stirred something deep within her. The Dark Lord leaned in, his lips toucheing her forehead in a soft peck.

She felt a surge of warmth and strength. A fleeting thought crossed her mind-it felt like... love. She couldn't be certain. Neither it was the right time to dwell. So, she just opted to struggling with her sniffles for now.

"You're strong, Ada. You've faced darkness that most can't even comprehend. Trust yourself, and trust that your family will see the truth." His words carried a soothing assurance, a balm to her wounded soul. Ada took a deep breath, letting his encouragement seep into her being.

"If Flitch says it, it might work. This elf sees far beyond the future." The Dark Lord gestured to the elf who retuned him with a soft nodded as if to approve. Devereaux knew it indeed took pride in its sharp foresight which was apart for loyalty had made its way to being The Death's familiar.

"I'll come with you. Let's go back to sanctum one last time."

His gaze held hers, and for a moment time seemed to stand still. The weight of unspoken words lingered in the air, and Ada found solace in the warmth of his presence. Devereaux, without uttering a word, conveyed a silent promise that they would face the challenges together. With Devereaux by her side, she knew she could face whatever lay ahead.