"The Bronze Crucifix deep within your soul is a burden to you, yet it also serves as a protection."
"It is a seal left for you by a legendary being, and as long as you do not ddle with it, the Twilight Half-Body within you will remain locked away by the Bronze Crucifix until the seal breaks."
"All you need to worry about is the slight aura and remnants leaking out from the Bronze Crucifix."
"However, that very Bronze Crucifix also seals away your own Soul Power."
"Thus, if you wish to forge a Soul Pact, if you desire to beco a being who wields control over their own destiny, then you must delve into the depths of the Bronze Crucifix."
"Shed the protection of the seal, cast away all shackles—"
"With your own will, confront that monster which laid waste to half of the Azure Garden Dukedom, dominate it with your spirit, and snatch back dominion over your Soul Power."
"The process will be prolonged, painful, and perilous, and may take a lifeti to accomplish..."
"During this period, you will pay an unimaginable price, and should you fail, you will either lose your life or beco a complete puppet of the twilight."
Shiayar’s words paused for a mont.
"Therefore, I will not cheer on your dreams..."
"Because, as your father, Grand Duke Brunestadt, has said, from a safety perspective, maintaining the status quo is the best choice for you."
"But equally, I will not stop you from making your choice."
"Because I believe no one has the right to strip others of their desires, not even the gods."
When Silvia regained her senses, the young man had already vanished, as silently and unnoticeably as he had arrived.
And in the young girl’s dark purple eyes, there was no longer any confusion or hesitation.
This was the first decision she had made of her own will since she was born.
When, at midnight, the mad and depraved yellowish light once again spilled from the Bronze Crucifix, Silvia did not choose to evade and repress it as a re temporary solution but faced it head-on for the first ti.
This was a gamble between an ancient god and a mortal, where the loser would lose everything.
That night, Elder Norton, sitting in the family’s secret chamber, was filled with unease, sensing an inexplicable premonition.
He felt that there was a slight change in his flawless grand plan, but no matter how he checked, he could find nothing amiss, and in the end, nothing happened.
The next morning, when Silvia woke up again, her dark purple eyes and chestnut hair had both taken on a pallid hue.
And she had lost the ability to speak.
This was the price paid for a mortal peering into the power of deities.
From then on, every word she spoke would be tainted with the Authority of the fallen, bringing corruption, pollution, and death.
By the wooden table, Silvia opened the diary gifted to her by Shiayar, and began to write under the feeble light of a candle.
"...From now on, every word I say is akin to a magic word ordering Life to cease."
"To avoid harming others, I will not speak, even when I am alone."
"This curse of silence will accompany forever... until the end of my Life, or that of the ancient god."
"Brother Shiayar said, who keeps a diary these days?"
"But I think, whether it’s or him, we are heretics, not part of the so-called norm... After all, normal people wouldn’t drag into the sea, nor would they stay by my side despite the hateful glares of other family mbers."
"However, if heretics can also have friends, to lick each other’s wounds..."
"Then I guess being a nonconformist heretic seems not too bad?"
— Excerpt from "Diary of the Cangyin Witch," Page 1, Holy Calendar Year 346, Month of Sprouting, Day 12.
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