The Cursed Artifact’s Truth

Julius stood frozen, his mind caught in a whirlpool of fragmented thoughts. Was this the truth behind cursed artifacts? Were they once human?

He clenched his fists as he recalled the agonizing sight before him—Cherie Lancer, a woman who had died in sorrow, rage, and betrayal, had been transformed into a cursed doll, an artifact designed to slaughter.

The mysterious man's words echoed in his mind, along with the strange incantation Cherie had repeated. The moment she finished those words, her body had shattered, and from the remnants, a cursed artifact had formed.

His thoughts were racing when, suddenly, the illusion began to collapse. Julius felt himself being dragged out of Cherie's memories, his surroundings shifting violently.

And then—he saw her.

Not the lifeless, cursed doll trapped within an artifact, but the woman herself—Cherie Lancer.

She stood before him, beautiful and radiant, her long hair cascading over her shoulders, her bright eyes filled with emotions he couldn't decipher.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice carrying the weight of an eternity.

Julius could only stare, his heart pounding.

"For what?" he asked, his voice rough with confusion.

"For freeing me from that endless nightmare." She smiled, though a hint of sadness lingered in her gaze. "I thought I would be trapped in that torment forever."

Julius tried to gather his thoughts, but her presence was overwhelming. "That man… who was he? What did he do to you?"

Cherie's expression darkened. "He was a collector of despair, a dealer of cursed artifacts. My suffering was merely a means to his end."

Julius felt a surge of anger. "And the words he made you repeat?"

A shadow passed over her face. "They were the key to my transformation… and my enslavement."

She stepped closer, her translucent form flickering. "Julius, you must be careful. You possess a power that man desires."

He narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

She gave a bittersweet smile. "My time is up."

"No, wait—"

Before he could reach for her, Cherie's body dissolved into specks of golden light, vanishing before his eyes.

Julius barely had time to process her words before the world around him shattered like broken glass.

And then, he fell.

Julius snapped awake, gasping. His surroundings blurred before settling into focus.

He was back.

The dimly lit room, the musty scent of old books, the lingering tension—everything confirmed it. He was once again in Lady Marla's chamber.

He was still holding Caleb's hand. The child trembled, his face pale and fearful.

Across from them, Casper stood firm, his gaze sharp as he barked out a command.

"Julius, find the contractor. He won't be far, not after you touched the cursed artifact."

Julius turned his head, following Casper's line of sight. The vase that had held the artifact was now shattered, its fragments scattered across the floor.

And within the remnants—

The cursed doll writhed, its body convulsing violently, as if struggling against an unseen force.

Casper took a step forward, his aura flaring.

"I'll deal with the artifact."

Julius' eyes widened in alarm.

"Don't you dare destroy it!" he shouted.

Casper halted, momentarily taken aback by the command. "What?"

"Just seal it! I'll handle the contractor."

Casper narrowed his eyes. "You're ordering me around?"

Julius ignored him. He could feel it—a sinister presence lingering just beyond the door.

The contractor was there.

Releasing Caleb's trembling hand, Julius strode toward the exit, his steps purposeful.

As he moved, he caught sight of Head Butler Williams lying motionless on the floor. Blood pooled around him, his body positioned within a crude magical circle surrounded by burning candles.

Julius' stomach churned.

Another victim of this damned trial.

Clenching his jaw, he pushed forward, reaching the door and flinging it open.

A shadow darted down the corridor.

Julius didn't hesitate. He surged forward, his shadow weaving beneath him, enhancing his speed.

The figure ahead was clad in a waiter's uniform.

Julius' eyes narrowed. "Found you."

With a swift motion, he lunged, grabbing the man by the back of his collar and slamming him to the ground.

The man groaned in pain, but his voice remained defiant.

"Let go of me, you bastard!"

Julius' gaze darkened.

"You caused the deaths of innocent people," he said coldly. "Did you think you'd walk away from this unscathed?"

The man struggled, his dark skin contrasting with his striking blue eyes.

Julius frowned. Caleb's description… this man matched it perfectly.

"So you're real after all," Julius muttered, his grip tightening.

The man sneered. "And what if I am?"

Julius' fist slammed into his face, the force making his head snap to the side.

"End the contract with the doll."

The man chuckled, blood dripping from his split lip. "You really think I'd do that? The contract can only be severed if the doll is destroyed, and you can't do that. It's stronger than all of you combined."

Julius' expression remained unreadable.

"Oh? And what if I kill you instead?"

The man laughed, his eyes filled with mockery. "You can't. The doll and I are one. That's the nature of a contractor."

Julius smirked.

"Funny."

The contractor's brows furrowed.

"What's so funny?"

Julius placed a hand on his forehead, his fingers glowing with a dark, ominous hue.

"The doll told me how to break the contract."

The contractor's expression stiffened.

"You're lying."

Julius' smirk widened. "Am I?"

The contractor's breath hitched.

Julius murmured an incantation, the symbols on his palm igniting with eerie light.

A sharp pain coursed through the contractor's body.

"AAAAAAAHHHHHH!" He screamed, writhing beneath Julius' hold.

Julius didn't waver.

The shadowy energy burrowed deeper, infiltrating the man's very being.

"No! You can't—! That old man said no one could break the contract—!"

Julius' eyes flashed. "Then he lied."

The contractor convulsed, his body glowing with shifting sigils. With each passing second, the markings began to vanish, one by one.

"N-no… I gave up half my lifespan for this…!"

Julius stilled.

Half his lifespan?

His fingers twitched.

This damned system—how much suffering had it created?

But he didn't stop.

As the final sigil disappeared, the contractor's body went limp.

And then—

A figure emerged from the shadows, her form flickering like an ephemeral dream.

Cherie Lancer.

She gazed at Julius, her lips trembling, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Julius swallowed hard.

The weight of her suffering pressed against him like an iron vice. He could feel it.

The loneliness, the rage, the years of torment.

A single tear slipped down his cheek.

With a voice filled with quiet sorrow, he murmured:

"Rest now… your hell is over."