I stared at Dante without blinking.
He was silent for a moment.
Then, at last, he gave a heavy nod and murmured his instructions: "...Do it quickly. Don't let the fire truly harm her body. Just purge the evil spirit."
They brought in peachwood logs as thick as a man's fist.
I didn't resist. I let them bind me to the stake.
The instant my skin touched the wood, my soul felt as though it had been pressed against a white-hot brand.
Four peachwood nails, each the size of a bowl, were laid out right before Dante's eyes.
I gave him one last chance.
I looked at him, long and deep. "Dante. After all these years of love."
"Is this how little you trust Chiara? If she hadn't risked her life to save yours, you would have died at the Old Monastery Estate."
"If she hadn't fallen in love with you, you never would have claimed the seat."
Dante's breath hitched, but his gaze held firm. No hesitation. His left hand drifted to the scar on his palm. He rubbed it once, slow and deliberate, the way he always did before a decision he could not take back.
"Chiara, once the exorcism is finished, you'll go back to the way you were..."
"We can live like we used to. I'll give you another child..."
The hammer fell.
Dante's entire body seized with a violent tremor. He wrenched his head away, as though he couldn't bear to watch.
I didn't make a single sound. I just smiled.
But this time, something inside me died completely. Not even a flicker of heartache rose to the surface.
For the first time, my composure cracked.
Sister...
Has your soul truly scattered to nothing, or are you still trapped somewhere inside this body?
How is it that neither Dante's love nor the threat to my very life stirs even the faintest response from you?
With every blow of the hammer, the crease between Dante's brows deepened. The red veins in his eyes spread another layer thicker.
The remaining peachwood piled around me had already been doused in lamp oil, its spiritual energy destroyed. The flames roared to life.
I saw the panic flooding Dante's eyes. "Stop! Stop this at once!"
But Lucrezia glided forward, three fingertips touching her collarbone, her voice a gentle blade dipped in poison: "Look at all that black smoke. That is the dark energy leaving her body."
"Once Alaric has cleansed it all, we should send her to the Old Monastery Estate for retreat and prayer. That is the only lasting solution."
"I fear that one day, the one she harms won't be someone else. It will be you..."
One sentence, and it struck the deepest fear buried in Dante's heart.
His outstretched hand froze in midair. Conflict warred across his face, but in the end, he said nothing more.
Black smoke rolled into my throat, choking and thick. Tongues of fire licked across my skin. Dante could no longer see my body through the blaze.
Then.
Every ounce of agony that should have seared my flesh, every last shred of it, rebounded.
Dante collapsed to the ground, convulsing, a scream ripping from his lungs as though his very organs were being torn apart.
"Put it out! Put out this fire!!"
"NOW!!"
At the same moment, Lucrezia went rigid, as if something unspeakable had locked its gaze onto her. She twisted around, her voice cracking with raw terror: "A ghost!! There are actually ghosts in this world!!"
