Azariah still looked at me with that cold, unreadable gaze—like I was some curious insect she hadn't quite decided to crush.
But… something shifted. Just slightly.
Her eyes narrowed in faint amusement.
"Hmm~ A human," she muttered slowly, as if tasting the word, "yet bearing the talent worthy of a contract."
The disdain didn't fully vanish, but… her tone had changed. No longer was I a mere ant in her eyes.
I had become a bigger ant.
Not exactly a compliment—but progress nonetheless.
Azariah floated in silence, her expression thoughtful. In her long memory, stretching over a thousand years, there had only been a single time she had contracted with Someone
That man had shown promise at first, even flattered her with worship.
But as the years passed, his weakness became more apparent. He grew stagnant, lost his edge… and when she finally deemed him unworthy, she tore the contract apart—along with half of his soul.
