The following night, the Dark Lord accompanied the former heiress on her journey back to the Sanctum. He recognized that it wasn't his battle to fight alongside Ada. He belonged in the shadows, a creature bound by his sins to suffer there. He had already gone beyond what he should or could do. It was best for him to stick to the promise he made-to assist her. She needed a home to return to once everything was settled, and he understood that he couldn't be that home.

The night air was cool, and the moon illuminated their path. Ada walked beside Devereaux, her thoughts a swirling mix of determination and apprehension.

Silence enveloped them for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. The crunch of leaves beneath their feet echoed through the quiet night. The moon hung in the night sky, casting a silvery glow on the path ahead. The landscape seemed to transform with every step, from the eerie woods to the more familiar terrain leading back to the sanctum. The journey felt like a bridge between two worlds - the darkness they had just left behind and the uncertain challenges awaiting them in Luna Sanctum.

Ada stole glances at Devereaux, his silhouette outlined against the moonlit backdrop. It reminded her of the last time they had ventured into those woods. He had just saved her from her own kin, and she hesitated to accept his kindness. Veiled behind a piece of fabric, she had as much faith in him as in any other dark entity, which made her hesitant. She remembered witnessing the Scythe, and with the first flick, it cast to save her life, all her worries melted away.

"How did you know I was in danger?" she asked, looking in his direction.

The Dark Lord seemed puzzled by the sudden inquiry, as Ada had missed giving a heads-up on whatever was going on in her head. Devereaux tilted his head, trying to comprehend.

"That night, when you killed Erixir-how did you know I was here?"

A small smile adorned Devereaux's face. "If I say I followed you here, would I sound like a stalker?"

"Probably," she nodded in agreement. "But how long have you been following me around?"

"I haven't necessarily followed you around," he answered. "That night I was here to reap a soul."

"Erixir?" Ada asked surprised.

The Dark Lord nodded in agreement. "He was bound to leave the earthly realm that night -- one way or another."

Despite having spent her entire life among denizens, she realised there were intricacies and nuances that eluded her understanding. Their conversations often carried layers of meaning she couldn't fully grasp. What she had learned was that their existence was intricately woven with a network of deals, binding them relentlessly. There seemed to be no escape; any attempt to disrupt the delicate balance would swiftly plunge one into the profound depths of darkness.

"I thought... you killed him. To save me." She added after moment. "I was worried that it might have put you in a situation. Cause, you know, Death can't kill."

Devereaux chuckled softly. "You still remember what I have told you about me, don't you?"

"I'm not the type to forget people overnight," the young heiress frowned.

"I know," The Dark Lord responded, his gaze fixed on looming stone wall in their path ahead. "I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. I promise." His eyes met Ada's blue eyes, admiring the soft smile adorning her moonlit face.

Owls joined in a mournful chorus, their haunting calls resonating through the silent night. Bats flitted through the air like elusive shadows, and the audible moans of the forest created an eerie backdrop. They walked on the thorny, rooty floor till at some point they reached the dead end of the walk where a wall of ancient stones blocked her way.

The stones, covered in damp moss that sparkled with dewdrops in the dim light, bore the marks of time and weather-cracks and scars revealing their rough edges. Their surfaces were marred by fissures and grooves, resembling veins running across them.

Reaching into a pocket of her dress, covered by the crimson cape, Ada retrieved the plaque she inherited as a Romersai. Placing it on the corresponding crack, the stone door rumbled, making way for their passage. The Dark Lord observed the entrance with fascination, and as Ada returned the plaque to her pocket, he couldn't help but question its mechanism.

"So, anyone with that plaque can trespass?" he inquired, pointing at the stone piece.

"Not really. The portal senses the chore energy. We all are descendants of the moon." Ada explained, resuming their walk down the canals that led from the Mountain of Life to the Luna Sanctum.

"Then how come I pass without a scratch?" He tilted head, curious.

"You're my guest. The portal holds magic to sense intruders. It's wiser than a human in sensing one's purpose of crossing that threshold and could be more ferocious than a hellhound if one decides to violate it."

"Mmm... interesting," The Dark Lord mused.

Walking down the canal, flanked by humble houses and establishments, Ada couldn't help but wonder about Devereaux's past visits to the Sanctum.

Recollecting the time when he was a frequent visitor, she inquired, "Wait, how did you used to visit the Sanctum before?"

"I was with your grandma," he replied.

Ada would never know how long he had been roaming in those grounds. He had frequented the Sanctum long before Ada could fathom. In fact, the very transformation from a mortal to an immortal had unfolded within the hallowed confines of this sacred place.

Yet, it wasn't just him who had treated upon the Luna Sanctum. Over the course of time, various entities, shrouded in mystery, had roamed the sacred space. Some were remnants of the past, others lingered in the present, and the ethereal whispers hinted at the possibility of more to come in the future. The Sanctum held so many more secrets and histories unknown to this young lass.

Being the Heir for the Romersai might seemed like an easy task but the Dark Lord was aware of it's deapth. He thought about the generations he had witnessed, the intricate rituals, and the political intricacies surrounding the vacant throne.

Being an heir wasn't merely about being born with the qualifications, undergoing rigorous training to become one of the head mages, maturing with age, gaining hands-on experience, or even possessing the iconic heirloom -- Ada had yet to comprehend the depth of what it truly entailed.

From the moment of one's birth to the Moon, they were acknowledged as an heir. Guided by those who came before, their hands were held through every step, provided they demonstrated dedication. They were allowed to wield the Luna Pearl as long as they accepted the unique blood flowing in their veins. Respect for their position as a heir came naturally, and as they rose to the stature of Head Mage, reliance on their abilities increased. Yet, it wasn't the endgame.

The true challenge lay in ascending to the throne, assuming the mantle of the leader of Romersai. However, this throne had remained vacant since Lady Moira's era, a symbol dismembered and fragmented in the echoes of time. Ada had much to learn about the intricate dynamics and responsibilities that came with being an heir, the journey encompassing more than just mastering magical prowess and wielding authority. Lady Moira however seemed to harbour the belief that Ada possessed a unique quality that could impact the future of Romersai.

The Dark Lord pondered whether Ada would ever comprehend the nuances of her role or the challenges that awaited her. In his eyes, heirs were often mere puppets, symbols representing the power of their bloodline, and the vacant throne remained a lingering enigma, dismembered since Lady Moira's reign.

The stones of the city seemed to breathe in the lingering scents of the forest and rain as they walked deeper into the city. However, an eerie silence hung in the air, a timid stillness that enveloped the town. Windows and doors were tightly shut, and the entire place appeared vacant. It was as if the very pulse of life had retreated, leaving behind a ghostly quiet that whispered of hidden anxieties and unspoken troubles.

As Ada and Devereaux traversed the silent streets, a sudden gust of wind carried with it a foreboding chill. Ada's instincts flared, and she shot a wary look at Devereaux. The flicker of concern in his amber eyes mirrored hers, acknowledging the palpable tension in the air.

Without warning, shadows coalesced from the darkness, forming a group of menacing figures clad in dark attire. The moonlight gleamed off the sharp blades they brandished, glinting ominously as they closed in on Ada and Devereaux.

In an instant, the assailants lunged forward, their movements swift and coordinated. Devereaux, ever agile, gracefully dodged the initial assault, but Ada found herself surrounded. Reacting with trained instincts, she drew on her latent powers, attempting to repel the encroaching threat.

As Ada skillfully deflected the incoming attacks, she couldn't help but feel a mixture of confusion and frustration. The dark-clad assailants, whom she now recognized as Guardian Mages, seemed relentless in their pursuit. Amidst the chaos of combat, she seized a momentary lull to confront her attackers.

"What is this? I'm Ada!" she shouted, her voice cutting through the night. The echoes reverberated through the silent town, and for a brief moment, the assailants hesitated, their blades poised.

"Why are you guys like this?" Ada's plea carried genuine confusion. The moonlight cast a surreal glow on her determined face as she scanned the masked figures for any sign of recognition. The Guardian Mages remained stoic, their identities concealed behind masks that mirrored the shadows they emerged from.

A brief pause hung in the air, tension building as Ada awaited a response. Devereaux, by her side, maintained a defensive stance, his amber eyes shifting between Ada and the enigmatic assailants.

The cynical chuckle echoed through the crowd of assailants, a dark ripple that sent shivers down Ada's spine. As one of the figures stepped forward, Devereaux swiftly moved to position himself between them, ready to defend Ada from the impending threat. The assailant, features obscured by a veil as ebony as the rest of their attire, bore a crimson emblem that, upon closer inspection, Ada recognized as the insignia of a Vigilant Hunter.

"Welcome home, traitor," the veiled assailant sneered, the words dripping with disdain and accusation. With that ominous declaration, the assailants lunged forward once again, their movements synchronised with an eerie precision.

Devereaux met the oncoming attackers with calculated grace, his movements fluid and lethal. The clash of blades and the crackling of dark energy resonated in the night air. In the chaotic dance of blades and shadows, Ada found herself entrapped in a whirlwind of movement orchestrated by Devereaux. Unable to comprehend the intricacies of the ongoing battle, she yielded to the dark entity's expertise, allowing him to guide her through the tumultuous onslaught.