---
A short while after her communion with the lesser wind spirit Sylphclare, Synthia slowly opened her eyes. Still seated at the altar, she looked at Lucifer with quiet gravity and spoke, her voice soft yet heavy with the weight of what she had learned.
"Young Master… the spirit medium session was successful. The wind spirit Sylphclare revealed that Valdren, the one you seek, is imprisoned deep within the Malakar royal family's torture chamber in the Risen Kingdom. His condition is dire — broken, tormented, clinging to life by a thread. If nothing is done, he will not survive more than two weeks."
The words hit Crotivia like a thunderclap to the chest. For a moment, the world went silent except for the frantic pounding of her own heart. Her father — the man who had protected her, loved her, and become her only remaining anchor — was suffering unimaginable agony in a cold, blood-stained dungeon. The same monsters who had slaughtered her mother in front of her innocent eyes when she was just a little girl were now tearing apart the last person she had left.
Her breath caught in her throat. A violent tremor ripped through her body. Her knees buckled as waves of suffocating grief, terror, and helpless rage crashed over her. Tears spilled uncontrollably down her cheeks. "Father…" she whispered brokenly before the room spun and she collapsed.
Crotivia had already endured the nightmare of watching her mother, Evernight Narkul Eldoresia, die at the hands of Malakar demons and Narkul vampires. That childhood trauma had left deep, bleeding scars on her soul. And now history was repeating itself in the cruelest way possible. She couldn't lose Valdren too. The thought of living without him shattered something deep inside her.
Lucifer caught her instantly, pulling her trembling form tightly against his chest. As he held her close, feeling every sob that wracked her body, his jaw tightened with quiet fury and steely resolve. Even while comforting Crotivia, his mind raced back to what she had told him earlier — the mysterious telepathic message claiming Valdren had been handed over by the Lustbound Heaven Kingdom.
'Whoever sent that message… they must be a high-ranking vampire. Someone close to power.' The realization burned in his chest. Though he could bend time and peer into memories, he had no way to trace a telepathic thread. The limitation frustrated him deeply.
He looked at Aria, his voice calm but urgent. "Lady Aria, do you know where the Risen Kingdom lies? In which direction?"
Aria shook her head, her expression troubled. "I'm sorry, Young Master. I have no knowledge of it. But one of my husbands, Desmond, spent years sailing the seas. He knows the Human Alliance, the Lustbound Kingdom, and many others. He should be able to help."
Lucifer nodded. "Then please ask him how we can reach the Risen Kingdom — and anything he knows about the Malakar royal family."
Aria's eyes widened with concern. She stepped closer, her voice laced with genuine worry. "Young Master… you're truly thinking of going there, aren't you? You may go, of course, but please remember — in just five days you are to officially promote the Westirifer Duchy into the Empire of Westirifer. If you're not there… all the preparations, all the hopes your people have placed in you… it could fall apart."
Her words struck Lucifer like a painful reminder. He had promised his mother Mia and his beloved wife Veronica that he would elevate the duchy three days before the Fertility Ceremony Festival. That promise carried the weight of his family's future, his people's pride, and years of hard work. Yet he had also looked into Crotivia's tear-filled eyes and sworn he would bring her father back alive.
Two unbreakable promises. Two heavy burdens pulling him in opposite directions. For the first time in a long while, Lucifer felt truly torn — torn between duty to his growing empire and the desperate plea of a woman whose heart was breaking in his arms.
After a tense silence, he exhaled slowly and met Aria's gaze with quiet determination. "Thank you, Lady Aria. I had truly forgotten about the empire ceremony in the heat of all this. I'm grateful you reminded me." His voice softened with resolve. "Because of that, I now know exactly what I must do."
"So please… go and speak with Desmond. I need every detail he can give about the Risen Kingdom."
Gently cradling the still-sobbing Crotivia against his chest, Lucifer carried her toward the guest room, his heart aching with every broken breath she took. Vance, Mara, and Zyrelia followed, their faces etched with shared concern.
---
After Lucifer's group departed the Oracle Hall, Aria stood motionless for a long moment, her mind swirling with conflicting emotions. Finally, she turned to Synthia, her voice soft but probing.
"Aunt… you've never offered a barter before performing a revelation or oracle. Why now? Why with the Young Master? What is it you desire from him so deeply that you felt you needed to bargain?"
Synthia's cheeks colored faintly. She lowered her gaze, her fingers twisting nervously in her lap as vulnerability shone in her eyes. "Aria… when I spoke with him, there were things I couldn't understand. I was afraid to ask directly, afraid he might not answer. And you already know what Lady Elyxia told me — that only Lucifer can be my destined life partner. Through the sacred barter, I wanted to secure his acceptance… to make sure he truly is the one meant for me. If I hadn't done it and he rejected me… I don't think my heart could have endured it."
Aria's expression softened with understanding. "Aunt, even without any barter, the Young Master would never have refused you. He never turns away those who need him. You only need to be careful not to ask for too much."
Synthia looked up, surprised. "How can you be so sure?"
A gentle, knowing smile touched Aria's lips. "Because I've watched him these past few days. He protects the hearts of those he cares for with everything he has… but those who dare to hurt them or stand against him learn the meaning of true fear."
Synthia nodded, a faint blush still lingering. "Enough of that for now. Please go and tell Desmond to meet him. Right now, Lucifer needs all the help we can give."
Aria turned to leave but paused, a playful glint in her eyes. "I'm going. But Aunt… why are you calling him 'Lucifer' by name now?"
Synthia's blush deepened into a soft, hopeful glow. She smiled shyly, her voice warm with quiet affection. "Why shouldn't I call my future husband by his name? What else should I call the man who is meant to be mine? You've become quite bold with your questions, haven't you? Now go. Whatever I choose to call him is my heart's choice… and none of your concern."
---
In the luxurious guest room of the Holygrill family residence, Lucifer sat beside Crotivia, holding her close as her quiet sobs continued to shake her fragile frame. Mara and Zyrelia stayed pressed against her side, offering silent comfort, while Vance stood guard with loyal vigilance.
Suddenly, a respectful knock echoed at the door.
"Young Master, may we enter?"
Vance opened the door without a word. "Please."
Four figures stepped inside: Aria, Synthia, Nad Kevlon, and Desmond. Lucifer's gaze instinctively tightened when it fell on Nad. The vivid memory of walking in on him entangled with the head butler still lingered uncomfortably in his mind. Though such relationships were normal here, they still unsettled something deep within him.
Shoving the discomfort aside, he focused entirely on Desmond.
After Aria introduced her eleventh husband, and after the brief, polite pleasantries, Lucifer spoke with calm urgency, his arms still protectively around the grieving Crotivia.
"Sir Desmond, Lady Aria has likely already explained why I asked for you. So I won't waste time. Please tell me — how can we reach the Risen Kingdom?"
---
