Once more, Azire drifted into a dreamlike trance—but this time, it carried purpose.
When clarity returned, he was no longer the boy he once was. He had been reborn, an infant cradled in warm arms beneath a foreign sky. A gentle nurse welcomed him with a soft smile and carried him through towering halls toward a sun-drenched balcony.
Outside, the world unfolded in a breathtaking panorama—lush hills, bustling streets, and vibrant flags fluttering in the wind. Below them, a sea of people gathered, their cheers rising like a tide. Azire couldn't understand their words, yet he understood their meaning: they were here for him.
A flicker of wonder sparked in his newborn heart. Is this real? The roar of the crowd felt both thrilling and terrifying. Though his body was small, something ancient stirred within—a burden he didn't yet understand.
The ceremony ended in a flash of light, and suddenly Azire found himself elsewhere—before the gates of a castle so vast it touched the clouds. Waiting there was a young woman with light purple hair that defied gravity in soft, puffy waves. Her presence was soothing, almost magical.
"Hello, Azire," she said kindly—then paused. Her words shifted into another tongue. Azire blinked, confused, but something in her eyes told him she understood him anyway.
Before he could dwell on it, the world shifted again.
He was no longer in her arms, but in a mist-filled chamber beyond time, surrounded by silence and starlight. There stood Martha.
"In this world," she said, "people speak many languages. But since I brought you here, I will grant you the means to understand them."
She waved her hand. Magic swirled around him like wind through leaves. He felt it settle into his mind—a spark of comprehension awakening.
As the mist thickened, another figure appeared. A woman—her features unclear, like a memory fading too soon—mouthed three words: Find the book.
And then he was back.
Ruby—the woman with violet hair—stood before him once more, her voice flowing like a practiced song, warm and rehearsed. She was his caretaker now, and in the days to come, she would become much more.
Azire's new life began quietly. His days were filled with routine, safety, and gentle education. By three, he could speak fluidly and navigate this strange new world with surprising ease. Its food, its customs, even its way of thinking—so different from his past life—were becoming second nature.
But on the morning of his fifth birthday, everything changed.
Restless and curious, Azire slipped away from his caretakers. The castle was vast—a labyrinth of halls, chambers, and secrets. Despite the watchful guards and Ruby's careful eye, he moved like a shadow: darting, rolling, weaving through gaps like a wisp of wind.
That was when he felt it again—a tingling sensation, like Martha had once described. A hum beneath his skin.
It led him to Ruby's private study.
He had wandered there before, but this time something called to him. A safe, sealed and silent, shimmered faintly in the corner. It had always been there, but now it glowed—a quiet red pulse, like a heartbeat. Magical. Alive.
He stepped closer, entranced—until a sudden sneeze from Ruby startled him.
Azire jumped and bolted, heart racing, vanishing down the corridors once again.
Eventually, he found himself in the grand library. Shelves soared above him like trees in an ancient forest. He moved between them, searching for something he couldn't name.
Then he saw it.
A book, glowing with the same deep red hue as the safe.
It sat on the bottom shelf, waiting for him.
He lunged for it.
As his fingers touched the cover, the world fell away.
Once more, he stood in the starlit room. Martha stood before him, her expression unreadable.
"Nice to see you again, Demon King," she said.
"Azire," he corrected, almost instinctively.
"Very well, Azire," she said with a faint smirk. "You found the book."
He held it up proudly.
"There are things I can't yet tell you," she continued, her voice now tinged with gravity. "Not until you understand what lies within. Read it. Learn from it. And when you're ready, return. Then our true journey can begin."
She paused. "But keep it hidden. Especially from your caretaker. Do not let her know."
With a flash, he was back.
The book—silent now—rested in his hands. He tucked it beneath his shirt and crept back to his room, slipping past the guards unnoticed. There, he slid it under his bed and sat in the stillness of his chamber, heart pounding.
He waited until the moon rose high, then retrieved the book and opened it.
The pages didn't contain mere words—they breathed.
They spoke of a world layered beneath the visible one. Of bloodlines tied to gods and monsters, of people born with magic woven into their veins. Of relics—ancient, powerful, and dangerous—and of pactbearers who had bargained with celestial or infernal forces for power beyond comprehension.
Azire read of wars hidden in history, of factions keeping the balance between chaos and order, always teetering, always shifting.
As he turned the final page, a chill ran down his spine.
This world wasn't what it seemed. And neither was he.
That's when Ruby entered the room.
She froze. Her eyes fell on the book in his hands. Her expression—usually so calm—shattered. She fell to her knees, eyes wide, lips trembling.
Shock. Recognition. Fear.
The silence that followed was suffocating. And in it, Azire Han realized:
The path ahead had already beg