A small, cramped room. Two desks—one covered with clutter, the other used daily by Angel. A simple bed made of broken wooden planks, layered with green, furry leaves. A hammock, also piled with miscellaneous items. Two wardrobes and a neglected baby crib in the corner. The walls are adorned with several wands, two longbows—one large and one small—and two quivers of arrows.

This used to be Angel and Andrew's shared room. Angel always complained about how small it was. After Andrew left, the room became Angel's alone, but it didn't make him happy.

Oh, and there's also a bookshelf filled with Andrew's magic books. As for Angel's archery books, they only take up a small corner.

Hanging the quivers and longbows back on the wall, Angel took off his straw shoes and stepped barefoot onto the wooden floor. He walked over to his desk and sat down.

His desk faced the window, and through it, he could just make out Jones's "Droplet," where she resided.

Resting his cheek in his hand, he gazed blankly outside. He muttered to himself, "What could Brother be doing now? Has he found the life he always wanted? Where exactly is he... If only I knew where he was, maybe I could go find him."

Just as he finished speaking—"Knock, knock, knock." The sound of someone knocking at the door startled him.

Angel jumped with surprise and quickly turned around.

The door opened, and his mother—who had just stepped out, possibly to throw out the trash—was back and now stood at the doorway.

"Are you training today?" his mother asked.

"Yes, I've already finished training. The coach said I could head home," Angel stammered.

"I know. I just ran into one of your classmates; she mentioned it to me."

"A classmate?"

"Sino, I think that's her name. She's quite a good-looking girl."

Angel froze, then cautiously asked, "Did she... mention anything else to you?"

"What do you think she should've told me?" His mother seemed puzzled.

"Uh... nothing much. I just wondered if she praised me or anything." Angel shrank his neck back nervously.

"She didn't. Do you have anything worth praising?"

"Not at the moment..."

"I'm heading out. Stay home. The preliminary trials are soon—you should spend more time reading books. If you feel tired, go to the training field and practice your archery a bit more, understood?"

"Yes, Mother."

His mother waved her hand and left, leaving Angel alone to continue staring blankly in the room.

"Mother actually ran into Sino? Sino's family... doesn't live near ours, right? I'm glad she didn't spill what happened with me at the training field, or else I wouldn't even make it to the preliminary trials. I'd be done for today already." After pausing for a moment, Angel chuckled softly. "Sino's so beautiful, and she's so talented at archery. Everyone likes her. She gets along with everyone. Except me..."

Supporting his cheek with his hand, Angel's mood sank even lower. As the sadness deepened, he sniffled abruptly and covered his face, silently sinking into his thoughts.

Suddenly, he stood up and pulled the curtains shut.

Next, Angel took out a magic book from the bookshelf. Opening it, he snapped his fingers lightly and began reciting a spell.

The pencil on his desk shot into the air, sparkling faintly.

The room grew dim, and when light bloomed again, Angel found himself standing in a vast arena. The flying pencil had transformed into an arrow.

Angel appeared entirely changed—no longer the dejected, hopeless Elf Youth from before. His gaze was sharp, his face cold and resolute.

Pointing with his hand, the transformed arrow shot forward forcefully, striking the distant target dead-on—bullseye, 10 rings. Not only that, its sheer power pierced clean through the target, leaving only a small hole.

Applause erupted around him. People started appearing one by one—Angel's parents, his coach, his classmates, his neighbors, and of course, Sino. Everyone cheered for him.

He held his casting posture still as he soaked in the applause.

But soon, the arena darkened again. When light returned, he was back in his small room, standing alone. The pencil now embedded deep into the nearby wall.

Angel lowered his hand helplessly. The fleeting glory had vanished, leaving only endless dejection and the stagnant life he couldn't escape.

"Hey, kid, what are you waiting for? You should act now."

A sudden voice rang out.

Startled, Angel turned around hurriedly.

Standing before him was a tiny demon, small enough to fit in his hand. Its fiery red skin shimmered. A pair of small, fleshy wings flapped behind it. Its bat-like face, pointed nose, and bald head—crowned with two little horns—looked exactly like the demons described in books.

Just... smaller.

"Who are you?!" Angel exclaimed but quickly covered his mouth, afraid of alerting others.

"Who am I? I'm your 'Heart Demon,'" replied the demon with a sly grin.

"'Heart Demon'?" Angel furrowed his brow.

"Yes, your Heart Demon."

"I've read about those in some novels."

"Exactly, just like those."

"But those are from third-rate novels. Tacky clichés. Really, I stopped reading that kind of thing over a decade ago."

"Uh... should we call it something else then?" The demon spread its hands helplessly and suggested, "How about 'a manifestation of your inner self, seeking freedom'? Does that sound better to you?"

"A little better."

"Good. Let's get to the point." The demon put on a sincere expression and said seriously, "My friend, you're the most talented Blood Elf with magic I've ever seen, truly, without comparison. Yet you're preparing to take the archery preliminary trials? Let's face it—you don't stand a chance. Even if you pass, is that really the life you want? Why let your life be so miserable?"

"But... Father and Mother won't allow me to apply to the Magic Academy. They say my brother was corrupted by demons because of magic. Perhaps, like right now, they'd say you're bewitching me."

"Uh... do you really think that? Or do you think I'm actually trying to bewitch you? Aren't I saying exactly what you feel deep down? Your life is your own; only you can judge whether you're truly bewitched. I bet your brother Andrew wouldn't agree with their opinion either."

Angel hesitated.

The demon feigned sympathy, sighing gently. "You should listen to your own heart, while you still have time—maybe this is your last chance. Why not try to change things? Your fate is in your hands. Sure, you might fail, but failing isn't important. What matters is that once you've tried, you'll no longer regret it. Otherwise, with a thousand years of life ahead of you, you'll keep revisiting this moment, blaming yourself for lacking courage."

"A demon talking to me about courage—it feels oddly off..."

"Ignore my identity as a demon. Truth shouldn't change just because it's spoken by someone unexpected. Just think about whether what I'm saying is true." The demon widened its eyes and stared intently at Angel.

Angel stood still for a long time.

Outside, the bustling marketplace created faint noise. Light shone through the gap in the curtains, onto Angel's face. Everything in the room seemed draped in a dreamlike haze due to the dim lighting.

Time passed, second by second.

Finally, Angel clenched his fist, looked at the demon, and asked, "If I want to change, what should I do now?"

Hearing this, the demon visibly relaxed and grinned. "Defeating oneself is the hardest part—you're already halfway there. Now, let's start by stealing your father's seal—or your mother's seal; either will do. If I'm not mistaken, it should be in the drawer of their room."

"Okay!" Angel turned, opened the door, and stepped out.

Behind him, the demon chuckled softly before vanishing completely.

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