They could have treated Rivern as nothing more than a demon’s pawn and wiped him out along with the ghouls, erasing him from existence forever. But at Nafal’s insistence, the priests brought him—by then a creature that had lost all semblance of humanity—back to Northsail.

The Enslaved Fiend was dead, and Rivern Rybirths was reborn.

An Enslaved Fiend obeys the demon that created it, surviving solely on the magic bestowed by its master. When the demon ceases to supply this power, the fiend deteriorates into a mindless ghoul.

This should have been Rivern’s final fate.

Yet, with Nafal’s help, he was given a different ending.

Still, Rivern did not know how the High Priest severed the bond between him and the demon, allowing him to return to human form from the state of an Enslaved Fiend.

Since regaining his humanity, Rivern has never felt the hunger for dark magic, as if he were still the ordinary person he had been many years ago.

He had asked the High Priest more than once how this was accomplished. But every time, the answer he received was vague and far from satisfying.

"I have always believed that everyone is born into this world with a certain purpose, a mission to fulfill, whether it is good or bad," Nafal said.

"A mission?" Rivern asked, puzzled.

"Yes. This mission drives you toward something you are destined to accomplish."

"And what’s your mission?" Rivern pressed.

"My mission? Naturally, it’s to help those who need it most," Nafal replied with a gentle smile.

The High Priest’s words left Rivern even more confused.

The old man simply smiled at him and said, "The ring suits you well. Take good care of it."

……

The seasons cycled, and time flew by.

Under Spike's guidance, Rivern gave up the sword, transitioned from being left-handed to ambidextrous, and even learned how to wield a staff. To his surprise, he also mastered the use of holy magic.

Outwardly, he became an entry-level priest of Dawn Prayers, but in secret, he held a different position within the Sevenfold Verdict.

"A pardon from the Goddess."

At some point, he began to wonder: What had he done to deserve such favor?

Was his supposed repentance enough to earn this level of forgiveness?

Surely, it couldn’t be that simple.

His true identity was known only to Nafal and Spike.

Years later, the two who knew his secret—the two whose guidance and care had been invaluable to him—both left him, one after another.

Nafal was assassinated by a band of rogues in Northsail. The incident became the spark that plunged the entire city into chaos and war.

At the time, Rivern happened to be away from Northsail. Just as he was preparing to rush back to avenge Nafal, Spike suddenly appeared and locked him in the basement of a church in Echowater Town.

"Revenge? Are you planning to repeat the same mistakes, Rivern? Nafal didn’t save your life so you could seek vengeance for him!"

Spike’s words struck like a bolt of lightning in the dark, jolting Rivern to his senses.

He couldn’t fall into the same cycle again. He couldn’t let himself be consumed by the flames of hatred once more.

"But on another note, Nafal is gone now. So, if you truly want to abandon your dignity as a human and return to being a slave of darkness, no one can stop you anymore. However, if you still wish, at the very last moment, to protect the pride of being human, open the crystal vial in this box. At that point, there will be no one left to save you. But you will finally get what you’ve always wanted—to die, just as you asked for at the very beginning."

Spike left him with a mysterious wooden box and then disappeared without a trace, vanishing entirely from Rivern's life.

Rivern opened the box and took out a crystal vial wrapped in black cloth.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Inside, a liquid swirled gently, radiating a warm glow through the dark fabric.

It was a dazzling light, yet for Rivern, it was also a fatal poison.

……

He continued sinking endlessly...

Even when he touched the glowing particles, no more images appeared. He began to wonder if he was finally reaching the bottom.

No matter how many years had passed, the sins of his past clung to him, relentless and unyielding in their pursuit.

He knew that even abandoning his old name and watching those who knew his true identity disappear from his life would not erase the weight of his transgressions.

He understood that donning the white robes of a priest would never truly make him one.

"I have always believed that everyone is born into this world with a certain purpose."

That weathered yet gentle voice suddenly echoed in his ears.

In the endless darkness, Rivern opened his eyes.

"To atone for my past sins—that is the only purpose I have for living now," he said.

"No, that’s not a purpose. That’s your choice."

The glowing particles swirled around him, forming the image of a face he could never forget.

"That is your choice as a human being. Rivern, you are exceptional. No matter which side you choose, you will ultimately become an elite among them. Even when you were already steeped in darkness, you chose to fight against it, to stand on the other side of darkness. That is why I never gave up on you."

"I don’t understand, Master Nafal."

The voice chuckled softly. "Live on, child. No matter what role you take, live on and find your purpose."

"My purpose?"

Rivern’s trembling hand reached out, touching the glowing particles, only to find them extinguishing like sparks meeting water.

"Spike always wanted you to break your habit of being left-handed, hoping it would help you sever ties with your past. But habits aren’t so easily changed, are they?"

Only one particle of light remained. It gently descended, landing on the tip of Rivern’s raised finger.

It was then that Rivern noticed—he had reached out with his left hand.

"Indeed… habits… they’re truly hard to change," he said with a resigned smile.

"The ring doesn’t suit you. You no longer need it."

The last particle of light disappeared, but the ring on his left index finger suddenly began to glow.

The plain silver ring on his finger was transformed by some unseen force, turning gold. It burned brightly, like a blazing flame, becoming a radiant beacon in the darkness.

"Wait… what’s happening?" Rivern stammered, panic creeping into his voice. "This ring—it’s a collar, a shackle meant to bind me…"

"You are human. You are a priest of Dawn Prayers, not their prisoner! Remember, you must live with pride… live on…"

The ring burned even brighter, its golden glow engulfing everything. The brilliance reflected in his emerald eyes, turning them gold—only to be replaced moments later by a searing crimson light.

Suddenly, an unseen force shattered the darkness that bound him.

The sound of rain and thunder rushed through the fractured shadows, slamming into his eardrums.

He extended his left hand and caught the demon’s wrist—the one that had been holding him captive.

"Still resisting? You filthy worm," the demon snarled, his face grotesquely twisted with rage.

Rivern ignored the demon’s fury. His gaze fell on the ring that had been on his left index finger.

It was gone. The ring had burned to ashes, leaving behind a searing, fiery scar circling his finger like a brand.

At the same moment, a torrent of wild energy surged from within him. A raging wind erupted, bending the very fabric of gravity around him.

Rain mixed with shards of gravel hurtled wildly in every direction, a chaotic storm that raged around him. At its center, Rivern hovered, unmoving, like an immovable force amidst the chaos.

The raw, untamed power emanating from him made even the demon before him falter, a flicker of fear crossing its grotesque face.

The demon released its grip from Rivern’s neck and took a cautious step back.

"Ah, I see now," Rivern said, his voice calm as he slowly descended to the ground. The storm came to an abrupt halt.

His blood-red eyes locked onto the demon, cold and unyielding, with a glint of mocking amusement hidden within.

"Fifteen years have passed, and I still fear you. Even knowing that you are merely a remnant of what you left behind fifteen years ago, I’m still terrified. I’m scared of becoming your slave again, of being used and controlled by you."

"For these fifteen years, I’ve been pondering one question: why was I able to break free from your control? Why was I completely unaffected by the 'Devouring Darkness,' with no craving for dark magic, able to live like a normal person?"

"I always thought it was the High Priest’s holy magic that saved me from the darkness. But now... it seems that wasn’t the case after all…"

"Worm! How dare you act insolent before me!" the demon roared in fury, swinging his spiked mace toward Rivern.

In an instant, blood sprayed through the air as Rivern was sent flying over ten meters, crashing into a pile of rubble.

The demon strode forward, laughing maniacally. "Pathetic wretch, you will never escape my grasp!"

But the laughter abruptly ceased.

The demon looked down, his eyes widening in shock as he saw something piercing straight through his heart.

It was an old, rusted longsword.

Rivern gripped the sword tightly in his left hand, a cruel smile curling at the corners of his lips.

"No, I’ve long since escaped your grasp."

A pair of bat-like wings unfurled behind him, casting a shadow that swallowed all light before him.

He twisted the longsword within the demon’s body before slowly pulling it out.

Unfortunately, the rusted blade refused to obey him and snapped, leaving part of it embedded in the demon.

Rivern frowned, clearly displeased.

Amid the curtain of rain, a rough, deep voice echoed relentlessly, haunting him from every direction.

"Killing my shadow to vent your anger? Heh, heh, heh, I doubt that’s enough. No matter what you become, no matter who puts a collar on you, you will always follow in my shadow. As long as I live, you will never know peace. Unless you find me, defeat me, and kill me."

He watched as the demon’s body dissolved into a pile of mud and sand under the torrential rain.

His crimson eyes, cold as ice, reflected nothing but an unyielding chill.

"I will no longer follow in your shadow, Griffith. I will not be swayed or controlled by you. Because one day, someone else will take my place and make you pay dearly for your sins."

Rivern threw the broken sword into the pile of mud and sand, his voice heavy. "And someone will make me pay too, one day."

"Then we shall see," the voice replied, fading away into silence, leaving only the sound of rain striking the ground.

Rivern tilted his head upward, facing the torrent of rain pouring down upon him.

The gray sky offered no glimpse of sunlight, and the boundless clouds loomed like an enormous hand, pressing him into the lowest depths of the mortal world.