He Actually Didn't Like Pumpkin Juice

"A daemon's mark!" Kleister exclaimed.

The noble faey staggered backwards and his hands shook even as he tried as hard as he could not to show fear. But his attempts were all in vain, for every inch of his body displayed the horror that his voice had uttered.

"It seems your magic beads did the trick Lady Marishka." The head healer said. "There it is, the mark of a daemon who casted a spell."

The head healer took a closer look as he motioned for Archer to move closer. The elfen complied but his distress was etched all over his face.

A daemon's mark?

So that was why he couldn't remember anything they had accused him of!

"Young elfen, look to your right and show me the left side of your neck." The head healer instructed.

Red was flabbergasted to have heard that Archer was marked as well. Could it be the same as hers?

Was his soul doomed to be taken as well? But how could that possibly be?