Dark clouds blanketed the sky, echoing the groans of pain and piercing screams below. As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but blood. The ground was soaked, puddles forming even before the rain could fall. Voices rose from every direction—some begging for forgiveness, others pleading for death.
Raken Noctyr, a prince with demon blood—unfortunately forced to lead a peaceful kingdom he was never meant for. His entire life had been shaped by destruction. Blood was no longer something remarkable. That thick, red liquid had long lost its meaning. Since childhood, he had been surrounded by violence, even though he never wished for it.
How complicated God must have been, creating someone like him. A gentle heart that clashed with the tainted blood flowing through his veins. The immense power he carried from the moment he was born only made him powerless. Time and time again, he was forced to bear emotions he never wanted, committing massacres while his conscience screamed in refusal. Now, what he feared was no longer the world—but the world that would come to fear him.
"You'd be fools to let a demon like me lead you." A smirk carved itself across Raken's face.
He walked past bodies sprawled across the ground, blood pooling beneath them. Not a trace of hesitation showed, even as murmurs of his name echoed around him. Even when faint movements came from surviving soldiers trying to reach for him. Without a doubt, this was the bearing of a noble.
King Ramod Noctyr—his one and only father—had ordered him to lead a war against a neighboring kingdom at the border. A vast field surrounded by towering cliffs. From above, it looked like a place created solely for battle. What was once a stretch of green had now turned entirely red.
Everything that happened here was Ramod's fault. He knew exactly what would happen if his son joined the war, yet he involved him anyway.
Raken's steps finally came to a halt. Standing in the middle of what remained of the battlefield, he looked over the results of his actions. No one was left standing but him. The smell of burning flesh lingered in the air, sharp and suffocating—but it didn't bother him.
A bitter smile tugged at his lips. This was his doing. Something only he could create—with nothing more than a breath. He couldn't even distinguish his own soldiers from the enemy anymore. Everything here had been scorched. This was what happened when he intervened.
Everything dissolved. Everything was destroyed.
Raken closed his eyes, gathering energy to teleport. When he opened them again, he was already standing in the king's chamber.
"Everything has been annihilated, Your Majesty."
"Couldn't you at least say 'I missed you' first?" The dark red-haired man sat lazily on his throne, staring at him with mild confusion.
"We just saw each other this morning," Raken replied flatly.
"Did we?"
"You're too old to remember that."
"How sarcastic."
Raken rolled his eyes at his father's antics. This king was far too ridiculous to be called the most noble man alive. If anything, "the most insane" suited him better.
"Enough small talk. So, everything's truly gone?" The playful expression vanished, replaced by the authority of a king.
"There are still some moving. But they'll die soon."
"So that means everyone there? Including our soldiers?"
"What did you expect, old man? You knew exactly what would happen if I got involved." Raken let out a tired sigh. Dealing with this man required more energy than he had left.
"Hey! I'm the king. Where are your manners?" Ramod straightened his posture, though to Raken, he looked more like someone playing pretend.
"No one said you were a servant. And since when did you care about manners?"
"This child, honestly…" Now it was Ramod's turn to sigh, unsure how else to deal with his son.
"That's all for today. Let me rest." Without waiting for a response, Raken turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Ramod clutching his chest dramatically on the throne.
"Son, you should at least say your greetings next time."
"Greetings," Raken muttered before disappearing from sight.
Outside the king's chamber stretched a long corridor lined with towering pillars. Gardens filled both sides, and the open space allowed fresh air and fragrant scents to drift through. The aroma of flowers mixed with soft sunlight painted the kingdom as bright and cheerful.
But in truth, it was the opposite.
This was a dark kingdom, where everyone carried tainted blood. But that didn't make them evil. They were simply inheritors of something that had happened thousands of years ago—cosmically. Just like humans were called human because they descended from Adam and Eve.
So what made Raken different?
He carried the original blood. Not something inherited from centuries ago—but directly from the demon itself. It could happen to anyone the demon chose.
Unfortunately, that someone was Raken.
He bore an ancient power long thought extinct. He couldn't control the urge to destroy. He couldn't contain the damage. Even the smallest release of energy would erupt far beyond expectation—and the price was agony during every red full moon.
"Dying" wasn't even the right word. Those who were dying would eventually find death.
He wouldn't.
That was why Raken saw this power as a curse—not a gift, not a blessing. Whoever that demon was, he swore he would kill it if they ever met.
A bastard demon that brought nothing but misery.
"Darling!"
The loud call snapped Raken out of his thoughts. On his way back to his room, he was intercepted by a beautiful woman—his mother. Jewelry adorned her entire body, dazzling enough to blind anyone who looked at her. And frankly, Raken would have preferred not to meet her at all.
"Mom, I told you not to run. Seriously."
The woman beamed as she approached. When she stood right in front of him, her eyes sparkled. "Were you worried about me, dear?"
"No. I'm worried about my eyes. You're too blinding when you run."
"Really?" The sparkle in Tyvalsa's eyes dimmed slightly as she covered her mouth.
Honestly, it should've been Raken's mouth that was covered. That boy was always unpredictable.
"Did you win the war, dear? Is that disgusting kingdom finally ours?" Her excitement returned almost instantly.
"Seems like it."
"Well then, no one will object if you replace that annoying man."
"He's your husband. And he's still alive. I'm not replacing him."
"Do I have to kill him first?" Tyvalsa stared at him seriously, blinking rapidly as she waited for an answer.
"…Seriously?" That question didn't even deserve a response.
"Oh, come on. You're more than capable. Honestly, I'm bored of having him as king. We need a new one, darling."
"No, Mom."
"Just try it."
"This isn't something you 'try.'"
"Think of it as an internship?"
Was there not a single sane person in this place?
Raken let out another frustrated sigh.
From appearances alone, there was nothing questionable about his parents. Ramod was incredibly handsome with his dark red hair. No one would guess he was over 1,200 years old. His wisdom in ruling was praised by all. Peace flourished under his leadership.
A dark kingdom that didn't reflect darkness at all—except for their ability to end lives.
Dark beings possessed abilities tied to the underworld. At the edge of this kingdom lay hell itself, where sinful souls were imprisoned before judgment and redemption. From the lightest sins to the gravest, all had their place. One of the duties of dark beings was to retrieve and escort these souls from the human world.
Sinful souls carried malice that could disrupt the balance between worlds—including the human one. If a lost soul failed to pass through the dimensional rift into the dark realm, it could possess a living human with a corrupted heart, bringing chaos.
But so far, that had never happened.
The dark beings had always carried out their duties flawlessly.
"I hope you'll stop resisting this. It's your oath to become king."
"I never made any oath."
"You did. When you were a baby."
"How does a baby make an oath?" Raken pressed the bridge of his nose.
"The point is, you're destined to be king. The oath ritual was performed when you were born. You can't defy it. There will be consequences." Tyvalsa gently held his arm, stroking it softly. "The power you carry is proof you'll become a great king. You'll protect all life here. Believe it."
Raken didn't believe it.
And he never would.
This power was a disaster. He would never dare lead a kingdom in his current state. Everything his father had built would be reduced to nothing but a story.
Tyvalsa Noctyr—his mother—always saw him in the most beautiful light. She chose to ignore the destruction tied to him. Ignored the disasters that followed wherever he went.
A beautiful woman with long black hair cascading down her back, adorned with countless jewels. To those who didn't know her, they would mistake her for Raken's older sister.
Immortals didn't age quickly. Their lives stretched so long that time itself seemed reluctant to touch their faces.
Unlike humans.
Time devoured them mercilessly.
Her age wasn't far from Ramod's—only a century apart, if Raken remembered correctly.
There was nothing strange about his parents.
Except their behavior.
For people their age…
they were utterly insane.
Raken jolted awake.
A sharp pain struck his back, as if something had deliberately slammed into him. The ache spread upward to his shoulders. He sat up slowly, one hand reaching back to rub the sore spot.
After all this time… he was dreaming about the past again.
Something he had tried to bury deep—even from his own subconscious. So why now? Why did it come back, as if reminding him not to forget?
The curtains of his window were left open on purpose, giving him a clear view of the outside. As the pain gradually subsided, his gaze lifted to the sky.
A pale, reddish full moon hung above.
Not as crimson as the one in the Noctyr Kingdom… but enough.
No wonder he felt something off.
The pain in his back—it was a sign.
Something was coming.
Raken slipped out of bed and made his way toward Kalaya's room. Even though he knew nothing would happen as long as he was around, his steps didn't slow.
He stopped in front of her door, carefully opening it without making a sound.
Inside, Kala slept soundly—if her messy position could even be called that. The blanket was tangled, her clothes disheveled. There was nothing elegant about the way she slept.
A small smile tugged at Raken's lips before he quietly closed the door again.
There was something he needed to check.
The night air greeted him as he opened the window. He climbed out for a quicker route. His sandals brushed against the grass, creating a soft rustling sound. The long black satin shirt he wore fluttered with the wind, yet he didn't feel cold.
After walking for a while, a towering tree came into view.
A smirk appeared on his face.
"So… an uninvited guest."
The rustling of leaves filled the silence. No answer came.
But Raken knew.
Something was there—hidden in the dark.
"Should I open the door for you… or kill you where you stand?"
Only the distant hoot of an owl responded.
Nothing else.
"Fine. Seems death has been missing you."
He was about to burn everything to ash—until a voice stopped him.
"My lord."
A woman's voice.
"So it's you."
A slender figure stepped out from behind the tree.
Her outfit clung to her body, accentuating every curve. Brown hair cascaded freely down her back, a small tiara resting atop her head. Her deep blue eyes shimmered—beautiful, yet dangerous enough to drag anyone into ruin. Long lashes framed her gaze, paired with a face that could rival a goddess.
If such a goddess truly existed—this would be her form.
Had Raken been an ordinary man, he would have already fallen for her… and ended up sharing her bed.
"Hein. It's been a while."
"Last time we met was around 800 years ago. Am I right?" Hein didn't step closer, aware of the invisible boundary between them.
"Maybe. I'm too old to remember."
"Spare me that nonsense, my lord. By the way… am I not invited in?"
Raken glanced at her, still standing about five meters away. He closed his eyes briefly, loosening the barrier surrounding the villa—just enough to create a small opening in front of her.
"You built a barrier this strong around an area this vast… I'm impressed, as always."
"The price is my body."
"Ah… my apologies. I did try to break it earlier. Are you alright?" Hein bowed slightly.
"Since the barrier is connected to me, that's the same as attacking me. Though… you'd need to be stronger to leave even a scratch."
"Worrying about you really is pointless." Hein let out a soft laugh.
Her attack had caused pain—but nothing more. Like a fleeting blow that disappeared moments later.
"So? What brings you here? If you hadn't shown up, I might've forgotten that world entirely."
"Nothing important, my lord. I was just curious about your life here. Besides… it's a red full moon tonight. The dimensional rift is slightly open."
"There's no such thing as 'nothing important' when Hein Brodic makes a move."
A brief silence settled between them.
Hein seemed to weigh her words carefully, while Raken waited.
Then—
"One of the sinful souls escaped… while the guide was opening the dimensional portal."
Her voice carried guilt. Even if it wasn't entirely her fault, she had been entrusted by the king to oversee those souls.
"It just needs to be found, right?" Raken kept his tone calm, though his fist clenched quietly inside his pocket.
"The bad news… it may have already found a vessel. Yesterday, we could still sense its presence. Now… nothing."
Raken's gaze drifted away, searching for something else to focus on.
How could beings who had worked far longer than humans… let something like this slip?
Pathetic.
"Since when did you all become so weak that you lost to a human soul?"
"My apologies, my lord." Hein bowed again.
"Find that damned soul. I won't let it harm my master."
Hein froze.
That word hit like thunder.
Master?
Who would dare make the Prince of Noctyr—the future king—serve them?
The world truly was falling apart.
Before her curiosity could turn into a question—
A scream shattered the night.
Raken immediately signaled Hein to leave, opening a small gap in the barrier. A second later, he was already standing in front of Kala's door.
Without hesitation, he pushed it open.
Inside, Kala was trembling violently, wrapped tightly in her blanket.
"Ken…"
Raken rushed forward, pulling her into his arms.
His heartbeat pounded just as hard as hers. Fear clawed at him—just imagining what could've happened if he hadn't come in time. What if something had happened while he was with Hein?
Damn it.
How stupid of him to leave her alone for so long.
Without realizing it, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head as she cried against his chest.
"What's wrong, Kala? What happened?"
"Th-there… Ken…" Kala pointed toward the corner of the room.
Raken followed her gaze—
And froze.
Something was there.
A form that, in an instant, shattered every ounce of composure he had left.