Chapter 42 : I Swear by the Light

“The one who marked you… is her name Stacy?”

Cold sweat drenched Milly’s back.

Why did Tifna know that name? She’d never said it aloud.

Her trembling hands nearly dropped the medicine bowl. Brown liquid spilled onto the blanket—spreading like bloodstains.

Tifna blinked—then understood.

Such a reaction… confirmation enough.

“Don’t be afraid. She’s not here.”

She took the bowl gently, setting it aside. If it cooled, Idis could reheat it with fire magic later.

“Miss Tifna… how do you know that name?”

Only possibility: she’d said it in her sleep. And Tifna had heard.

Exactly as she guessed.

“When I brought you back, you kept calling that name in your dreams. Repeating it over and over. Either someone very important… or someone you hate.”

“Did I say anything else?”

Just the name was fine. But if she’d blurted out more—I’m not a demon, I didn’t come here to suffer—

“Oh, plenty,” Tifna said, mimicking Milly’s sleepy voice:
“Stacy… I’ll slice you up and make grilled octopus… octopus… charcoal-grilled octopus, seven parts cooked…”

Milly had dreamed of killing Stacy after all. Pity she woke before she could skewer the tentacles.

She wondered how strong she really was now.

After awakening, she’d taken down two A-rank monsters effortlessly. So she was stronger than both combined.

But she’d never seen Stacy fight anyone else.

How powerful was she?

The Thunderwolf’s lightning was weaker than Stacy’s shocks.
And that thorn sigil—just a mark—had nearly killed a mage.

Stacy was terrifying.

Maybe next time they met, she’d stab her first.

If she lost? Just more torture.

She’d endured so much—she could take it.

“Did I say anything else?”

“Not really. But ‘Stacy’…”

Ugh. Why couldn’t Tifna just finish her sentences? Every pause was agony.

Was she about to say she knew Stacy? That she knew she was a demon?

“I know all the major figures in the city. But I’ve never heard that name. Maybe it’s a hidden noble family?”

Tifna muttered, piecing it together.

Mistressless. Good.

Milly exhaled.

Then—Tifna grabbed her hand.

“Are you sure it’s not an alias? Or does she have another name? At least describe her appearance. I’ll find her. Whoever breaks imperial law… must face judgment.”

Her sudden passion startled Milly.

If only Stacy could be tried…

She’d give every detail—help hunt her down.

She opened her mouth—

Then froze.

No sound came out.

Her lips moved—but no words.

What was happening?

“A binding curse?” Tifna frowned. “Don’t worry. After we finish this mission, I’ll take you back to Starlight City. We’ll get justice.”

Back to Starlight City?!

No! They’d been in the forest for days—didn’t know about the chaos in the city.

If she went back—she’d be hunted.

Seeing Milly hesitate, Tifna squeezed her hand tighter.

“It’s okay. You might not know… but my family has influence in the capital. Especially my brother—he’s…”

She started to beam—then her expression darkened.

“What happened to your brother?”

“…Nothing. Just trust me. I’ll bring you back. I’ll expose whoever did this. They will be judged.”

Milly felt the warmth of Tifna’s hand—the strength in her voice.

With such conviction… how could she confess?

That she was a demon.
That she’d already escaped from Stacy.
That going back meant death.

She couldn’t speak.

“By the way… I don’t even know your name.”

“Milly.”

Suddenly—Tifna drew her sword.

The tent’s glowstone lamp swayed from the wind.

The blade struck the ground before Milly—holy light surging up its engravings, forming a pillar that illuminated the thorn sigil on Milly’s collarbone.

“I swear by the Light,” Tifna knelt, armor clinking, “I will ensure the one who broke the law faces true judgment.”

Milly stared—frozen.

This oath… sealed her silence.

No matter what, she couldn’t reveal the truth now.

As tension peaked—

Gurgle…

Her stomach growled.

Tifna’s vow cut short. She looked up.

Milly was tugging the blanket over her belly, ears burning red.

“I-I…”

The moment shattered.

And the shame—oh gods, the shame.

She’d eaten so many vegetables yesterday—why was she already hungry?

Tifna sheathed her sword, returning the warm broth.

“Hungry? Drink up. My team should have the meat ready soon.”

After Tifna left, Milly stared at the bitter liquid.

Reluctant—but she drank it all.

“Ugh…”

So bitter.

When the campfire crackled, sending sparks skyward, Milly curled beside Tifna, watching the flames.

Above, a crude spit roasted venison. The fat dripped—sizzle—filling the air with rich, golden scent.

Her stomach growled again.

“Here. Snowhorn deer. Rare in markets.”

Tifna sliced tender meat onto a clean oak leaf. “Careful—it’s hot.”

Milly reached for it—then bit into the leaf-plated meat without thinking.

The first bite burned her tongue—

But pain made her bite harder.

Juices burst in her mouth—

And Milly burst into tears.