Amid the chaos, a small but resolute voice echoed through the hall, cutting through the panic like a sharp bde.

  “Don’t panic. Trust Her Highness—she always shows us miracles.”

  The voice beloo her thatle saintess of Demarius, Galena Damarius. Renowned for her beauty, she was as breathtaking as the rumors cimed: almond-shaped golden eyes, ptinum hair flowing gracefully, and a delicate mole beh her lht lip. In the eerie atmosphere, her small figure radiated a soft, holy glow, as if surrounded by a divine halo.

  As the saintess spoke, the little princess suddenly began to glow with a radiant white light. To the astonishment of the onlookers, the princess sneezed, and the radiant light expanded, enveloping the entire pad dispelling the darkness. Moments ter, the eerie atmosphere lifted, and everythiuro normal.

  When the light subsided, both the little prind princess gently floated down into Prince Alexander’s waiting arms. Though the little priear-streaked face betrayed his earlier fear, he noeared calm, as if someone had already soled him. The princess, even more serene, began tugging pyfully at her worried father’s suit, bringing a sense of relief to those watg.

  It was then that Frederick Morari noticed something amiss. With a subtle gnce, he signaled his father. Following his son’s line of sight, Sir Niorari spotted the issue and leaoward the Emperor, whispering urgently, “Your Majesty, something is wrong with the brooches given by the Empress. Their stones have turned bck.”

  The Emperor’s expression darkened as he exged a silent, anding look with Sir Nicos that said, Iigate this immediately.

  While the hall buzzed with guests inquiring about the children’s wellbeing, Sir Nicos discreetly approached the Knight Captain, anizing a secret iigation into the matter.

  Meanwhile, the Empress stood off to the side, quietly seething with rage. Her meticulously crafted pn had crumbled—shattered by the sneeze of a little brat. The failure was a bitter pill to swallow, and the sting of her shattered dreams of glory only fueled her anger.

  Her gaze shifted to Prince Evan Ruez. Unlike her, he appeared calm, almost indifferent, as though he had anticipated this oute. When their eyes met, his expression carried a faint air of triumph, and in that moment, she uood the meaning of his earlier message.

  The prince had known all along that her pn would fail. Worse yet, he had prepared an alternative solution before she even realized the fws in her own scheme.

  As the otioled, the Emperor addressed the guests, reassuring them with a andi posed tone.

  “Please, enjoy the feast and this joyous occasio assured, the children are safe and ba the care of their parents.”

  The ba resumed smoothly, as though the earlier chaos had never occurred. The Emperor’s calm demeanor seemed to ence the same from his guests, who quickly returo their versations and celebrations.

  However, this nont attitude uled Prince Evan Ruez. A flicker of unease crossed his mind. Why are you letting this slide? he thought. Not that it matters—you won’t find anything useful anyway.

  While events unfolded in the Are Empire, the Abyss itself trembled uedly. For the first time sihat Being was erased, a quake rippled through the dark, chaotic realm.

  Iudy of Lord Azazel, a high-ranking demon and attendant to the Ruler of Abyss, the sudden jolt knocked him from his chair. His crimson eyes darted around the room in fusion, sing for any disturbance. Everything seemed intact, yet the unease lingered.

  Before Azazel could ponder further, a swarm of lesser demons flooded his chamber, their grotesque forms writhing in panic.

  “Lord Azazel!” one of them screeched. “There was ahquake in the Abyss! The first sihat Being was vanquished!”

  Azazel scowled, brushing off the dust from his cloak.

  “Silence, all of you!” he snapped. “It was just ahquake. Are we mortal to fear something so trivial? We serve the most powerful Master ience. Do not fet—our Master defeated that Being. There is no cause for .”

  No sooner had the words left his mouth than a booming voice reverberated through the pace corridors.“Azazel! … Azazel! Get your useless self here immediately!”

  The irritated to a shiver down Azazel’s spine. Without a moment’s hesitation, he sprioward the source of the voice.

  The summons came from her thae, the high-ranking gatekeeper of the Abyss and one of the Ruler’s trusted generals. Hecate was infamous, even among demons. In his mortal life, he had been a madman—a general who sughtered indiscriminately, betraying his empire to join its enemies. His pent for skinning victims alive and keeping their hides as trophies had carried over into his unholy afterlife.

  Uhe grotesque forms of most demons, high-ranking ones like Hecate retained a sembnce of their mortal appearahough twisted with dark features that betrayed their infernal nature. Azazel couldn’t help but gulp as he approached. Whatever this quake signified, it had stirred even the likes of Hecate—and that could only mean trouble.

  In terms of rank, Azazel might have held the same standing as Hecate, but iy, their social statuses were worlds apart. Among the demons, Azazel was often the subjeockery and ridicule. He had been a thief and a trickster in his mortal life, skilled at deceit and manipution, but g the brutal prowess or fearsome reputation that marked others like Hecate.

  The only reason the Ruler of the Abyss had chosen Azazel as an attendant was his ing intelled knack for strategy. Without that, he would likely have been just another lowlife demon, skulking in the dark alleys and ss of the Abyss, far from the corridors of power.

  "Master is looking for you." Azazel could hear the venomous satisfa ie's tone. Silently cursing him in his mind, Azazel made his way to the throne room.

  The chamber was as foreboding as ever, shrouded in darkness and bathed in an eerie red glow that seemed to pulse with a life of its own. If Azazel were still mortal, the oppressive atmosphere might have filled him with dread. But those days were long gone, and he had grown aced to this revolting pce reeking of malevolend decay.

  The terpiece of the room was the throne, a grotesque stru of human bones and fyed skin. It looked unbearably unfortable, but it was designed specifically to suit the Master's grim preferences. Azazel couldn't fathom why anyone would want such a thing, but questioning the Master's tastes was out of the question.

  In Azazel's view, there was little differeweehrone room and the Abyss's deepest pits. Both were vile and filthy, caked with yers of a blood and rotting flesh. One of the few things he missed from his mortal life was the simple fort of surroundings—a luxury these foul demons cared nothing about. Here, filth g to everything, from the floors to their grotesque forms, and no one seemed to notice or care.

  Ihrone room, Azazel beheld a dark, formless mass resembling a mortal, but with blood-red eyes that could haunt even the most hardened souls with a single ghe master did not , but preferred this nightmarish visage—a being shrouded in darkness, watg with an uling iy. Nothing escaped the master’s all-seeing gaze.

  “Azazel,” the dark mass shifted slightly, leaning forward from its throne. As it spoke, rows of sharp, jagged teeth appeared, glinting faintly in the dim, eerie glow. Azazel dared not meet those eyes. Bowing his head low, he fixed his gaze on the floor. “Master, you called.” His voice trembled, though he fought to keep it steady.

  The master’s voice was a low, menag whisper that seemed to cut through the air like a bde. “Azazel, have you looked into what I asked?”

  Azazel’s body shuddered slightly, though he kept his head bowed.

  “Master, I have already arranged for the Northern prio iigate.” His voice cracked, betraying his disfort.

  The dark figure was silent for a moment, then spoke again, his tone dripping with mehen where are my answers, Azazel?”

  Azazel trembled visibly now, but forced himself to remain posed. “Master, it was a child—a girl born into the royalty of Are. The mortals have begun calliheir hope.”

  A mog, twisted ughter rumbled from the figure. “A ‘she,’ not a ‘he.’”

  “Yes, Master,” Azazel hurried to reply. “One of the apostles is attempting to kill the child by stealing her fate and transferring it to the Empress’s grandson.”

  The dark figure remained silent, his pierg gaze fixed on Azazel, his grin widening slightly.

  “It seems they were not successful,” he finally said, his voice low and menag. “It would have been a shame if such a formidable enemy died so early.” His ughter was cold, devoid of mirth. “It’s been so long sihe ‘Being.’ I wele a ce to fight again.”

  His voice turned cruel. “Provide assistao that venomous woman in t the child, but make sure not to kill her. It will be fun to crush those mortals’ hopes with my own hands.”

  His ughter echoed through the throne room, sending shivers through Azazel. The air seemed to thi, the darkness pressing in tighter. Azazel could feel the weight of the master’s madness and khat no cruelty was too great, no suffering too severe, in the eyes of this dark being.

  Azazel pitied the child for drawing the attention of such a twisted entity.

  Ba the Are Empire, the Empress and Prince Evan Ruez had already begun plotting their new scheme. As the ba drew to a close, the Empress presented her pn to the Emperor. “Your Majesty,” she begaone crafted to sound reasonable and helpful, “we have always been at odds with the Northern Empire. Why don’t we use this occasion to meioween our two Empires?”

  The Emperor, still engaged in versation with the guests, turned his attention to her. “What do you have in mind?”

  With a posed demeanor, the Empress tinued, “Prince Evan has a son, and our Prince Alexander has a daughter. Why not uhe two Empires through a marriage alliance?”

  The moment her words were spoken, the atmosphere grew tense. “Yes, Your Majesty,” Prince Evan Ruez added, his voice smooth and persuasive. “It’s a brilliant idea. They will grow up together, and this alliance will eing peace between our Empires.”

  Zelus, who had been quietly , also nodded in agreement. “I support my mother’s vision. This will bring our families closer.”

  The expressions of Prince Alexander and Agatha darkeheir eyes filled with silent fury. The implication that their child’s fate could be decided by others was something they could not tolerate. Their silent message was clear: How dare they decide our child’s future without our sent?

  The Emperor’s voice broke through the growing tension. “I reject the suggestion.”

  Both Prince Evan Ruez and the Empress were stunned. “ Prince Evan Ruez, do not mistake me,” the Emperor tinued, his tone firm. “There are several pelling reasons why I ot agree. Firstly, both children are far too young. They should have the freedom to decide their own futures.”

  The Empress, uerred, interjected, “They always get to know each other as they grow. What’s the harm in that?”

  The Emperaze turned cold. “Who do you think you are to interrupt me?” His roar echoed through the hall, sileng the crowd. “I know what is right and wrong for my granddaughter. Who she chooses to marry when she grows, that is her decision. A mere marriage tract won’t force such a future upon her.”

  His gaze grew steely, and his words carried the weight of authority. “Sedly, I will not go against my te wife’s wishes. Athena always believed in allowing her desdants the freedom to make their own choices. It romise I made to her: whether it be our son or randchildren, they will fe their own paths, free from such maniputions. I will not break that promise.”

  The Empress's face twisted in fury, but she knew better than to challehe Emperor further. The ba resumed, though the Empress and Prince Evan Ruez couldn’t shake the feeling that their pns had suffered a major setback.

  It was clear that the marriage alliance would never e to fruition. But the Empress refused to give up. ‘If I ’t make her marry into the Northern Empire, then I will find another way to ensure her downfall. There’s always another path to ending a child’s life.’

  After the ba, as every guest departed, the Northern prince was the st to leave. Ohe hall had emptied, Prince Alexander made his way to the royal study. “Did Mother truly suggest that to you, Father?” he asked, his voice filled with uainty.

  “Do you think I would lie in front of so many people?” his father replied with a steady gaze.

  “I think your mother foresaw this, which is why she told me so. She was the most powerful seer I’ve ever known in my entire life.” Alexander gazed at his father with soft eyes and asked, “Do you miss her?”

  The Emperor's voice softened as a wistful smile crossed his face. “Silly boy, I miss her every single day.”

  “The only thing I ever did without your mother’s blessing was marrying that treacherous woman. She thinks I’m blind to her schemes, but I see everything. I’m merely waiting for the right moment to make her pay—for what she’s doo me, to you, and to my little granddaughter.”

  “Father, I came to ask for one more thing. I need your permission to iigate today’s i.” Alexander’s voice was steady, but his determination was clear.

  The Emperarded his son for a moment before shaking his head. “No. You don’t o yourself with this. Spend your time with your family; that’s where you’re needed. Nicos is already handling it.”

  As if on cue, Sir Nicos ehe study. “Your Majesty, may I have permission to enter?”

  “Yes, Nicos, e in,” the Emperor replied.

  Sir Nicos bowed respectfully. “Greetings, Your Majesty. Greetings, Prince Alexander.”

  “Have you found anything, Nicos?” the Emperor asked, his tone firm but expet.

  Sir Nicos let out a weary sigh before responding. “Not much, Your Majesty. The brooches gifted by the Empress were indeed ced with traces of dark magic. However, we haven’t been able to identify the exaature of the spell yet. I’ve sent them to the mage tower for further analysis.”

  “Sir Nicos,” Prince Alexander interjected, his tone sharp, “any idea how those brooches ended up in the Empress’s possession?”

  Sir Nicos turo the prince. “One of the Empress’s maids was involved. We have witnesses who saw her tag someone suspicious, but, unfortunately, all the witnesses are also maids loyal to the Empress. Before we could apprehend her for questioning, she was found dead. To be precise, she was murdered.”

  The Emperor’s eyes narrowed. “Have you identified who she was?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty. She irl from the tryside, retly recruited as a maid. There’s a rumor that, before her death, she was seen in close tact with one of the Empress’s most trusted maids. However, we ck crete evideo prove anything.”

  The Emperor leaned ba his chair, deep in thought. “Whoever orchestrated this p meticulously, leaving no loose ends. Nicos, tihe iigation. We need answers.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” Sir Nicos replied with a resolute bow.

  “Alexander.”

  “Yes, Father?”

  “Don’t worry—Athena will be alright. I couldn’t save your mother, but I will never let anything happen to your daughter.”

  It was reassuring for Prince Alexao see the unwaverierminatioched on his father’s face.