The Damned Demon

In the heart of the Bloodburn Kingdom, a wave of relief and jubilation swept through the streets, echoing off the ancient stone walls and filling the air with a palpable sense of hope. The Queen's official proclamation had ignited a spark of joy among the populace: their king had erected a powerful barrier around the kingdom, a shield against their foes, ensuring their safety from the draconians and other enemies that lurked beyond their borders. The source of this miraculous protection was whispered to be a powerful artifact, a reward from the king's triumphant venture into the Tower of Torment, and his shocking ascension to a Soul Devourer only added layers to the legend that was rapidly unfolding around him.

It wasn't just long ago he became a peak Soul Purger. Just when they thought he couldn't astonish them more, they happily get proven wrong again.

The Queen also announced that the kingdom was set to celebrate their king's achievements and his safe return with ten days of festivities, allowing everyone a chance to shower him with their love and admiration and also honor the ones who died for him.

The streets buzzed with preparations, the air filled with anticipation for the days of joy that lay ahead.

Yet, not all corners of the kingdom basked in the warmth of the forthcoming celebrations. Within the secluded confines of Bloodwing Manor, an ominous shadow loomed, starkly contrasting the joyful atmosphere that filled the rest of the kingdom. The manor usually had an unsettling atmosphere, though today, it was shrouded in a chilling silence, broken only by the somber procession of servants.

Tension gripped the air as the servants, their bodies tense with fear, dragged the bloodied remains of a maid who had unwittingly knocked on their Mistress' door to her room without having any idea that she didn't want to be disturbed.

They could only sigh and blame the maid for being too concerned after hearing that their Mistress' eldest son was captured by the draconians.

They all knew how much their Mistress coddled the eldest one, and even if a hair on his body was hurt by someone, her wrath would make them regret it dearly.

So all of them were even more terrified than ever since they couldn't imagine how angry and upset she must be right now.

However, the sudden sound of footsteps heralded the arrival of Seron, the master of the manor, whose presence momentarily diverted the servants from their grisly task. His sigh, heavy with resignation, did little to dispel the atmosphere of dread that hung like a shroud over the corridor. "Clean it up, and don't bother coming to this floor unless she wants," he instructed, his voice a calm command amidst the storm of fear that enveloped his home.

With a mind burdened by the knowledge of what awaited him, Seron pushed open the door to Rebecca's chambers.

The scene that greeted him made his brows raise. It was one of chaos and despair, a stark departure from the grandeur that typically defined the manor.

Rebecca knelt among the wreckage of her own making, the room a mirror to her turmoil—furniture lay in ruins, shards of glass bottles glittered menacingly among drops of spilled blood, and the stench of despair hung heavily in the air.

As Seron stepped into the chaos that once was a room of elegance and order, his voice carried the weight of disappointment and reprimand, "What is this, Rebecca? I know you are upset, but you didn't have to wreck your room and kill a poor maid. Taking your anger out on them isn't the solution."

"Upset? Hahaha," Rebecca's response was a chilling laugh, a sound that seemed alien in the desolate atmosphere of the room and then turned her head around to face Seron. Her silver hair, usually a symbol of her regal bearing, now hung in disarray, framing a face contorted by anger, "Your eldest son got thrown into a dungeon by the draconians, and all you have to say is that I shouldn't be angry? Or do you really not care about his life and death but the life of some wretched maid? Why am I not surprised? You still haven't changed."

Seron's expression hardened while Rebecca went on, "How can you remain so calm when he might be getting tortured every second as we speak!" The turmoil in her pale red eyes was a storm of despair and rage, a mother's fury unleashed.

Seron, navigating the debris of shattered furniture and broken dreams, approached her, an attempt at reasoning in his tone, "I am worried about Oberon. But we should-" His plea was cut short by the sight of the map sprawled before Rebecca, a detailed blueprint of enemy territory. Seized by a sudden urgency, he grasped her wrist, his voice sharpening with concern, "What madness is this? Are you planning to sneak into their kingdom?"

Rebecca's reaction was swift and snarled as she shook his hand away, "Then you tell me how to rescue him! If you can't, then stay out of my way. I will do whatever it takes to get him out, even if I have to go there myself."

Seron's frustration was palpable as he countered her reckless determination with harsh reality, "Are you even listening to yourself? Whenever it concerns Oberon, you can't think straight. Just think...even if you manage to get inside their kingdom without any troubles or with the help of someone you know on the inside, you can't get past the dungeons. It is heavily guarded, and if you get caught, then not only will you be punished, but your son will be executed in front of you. At least now, he is still alive, isn't he? Do you really want to get your son killed?"

The impact of his words seemed to pierce the veil of Rebecca's fury, her resolve wavering as the grim possibilities he outlined took root. "Yargh!" With a frustrated kick, she sent the map skittering across the floor with her foot, though her spirit remained unbroken, trapped in a tumult of despair and helplessness.

Sensing a shift, Seron ventured a suggestion, a lifeline amidst the storm, "Why don't you try talking to our king? He is now powerful and influential enough to maybe carry out some negotiation or do something about it. It isn't good for him as well if a prince of our kingdom is being imprisoned by the draconians. He may not want to lose face."

In the throes of her turmoil, Rebecca's reaction to Seron's suggestion was a mix of scorn and disbelief, "Are you trying to mock me or help me? You want me to ask for his help after everything he did to us, especially Oberon?" Her words were laced with accusation, unable to believe Seron would bring up his name as the "solution".

"I am sure that the only reason our son was captured was because that alien bastard did something. Otherwise, how could it be possible that they all escaped while only he was left behind? He was the strongest, except for Eradicator and Naida."

Seron, his patience wearing thin, countered with a firmness born of realism, "We don't know that for sure, and you should be careful with your words. Asher is no longer the soulless boy who helplessly slept on a bed all day long. His power and reputation will soon equal or surpass the Queen in no time. Whether you like it or not, he is the best chance you have right now. Nobody else will be able to help you."

The tension between them escalated as Rebecca, her emotions boiling over, challenged Seron, "Then why don't you go and ask him? Or is it that you want to abandon Oberon? That must be something you have been secretly hoping for, right?"

Seron's frustration was evident as he retorted, "Stop making up things I never even said. The only reason I am not asking is because I believe it is prudent to wait and see how things unfold. Recklessly doing something now could make things worse. It is only for your sake that I suggested seeking Asher's help."

Rebecca scoffed as Seron turned around and walked towards the door, "But if you don't want to, then forget I said anything. Just don't do anything to make things worse," Seron said, leaving the room while Rebecca's brows were twitching, her heart pounding in frustration, anger, and helplessness.

Meanwhile, the atmosphere in the study hall of Demonstone Castle offered a stark contrast to the strife in Bloodwing Manor. Asher, seeking solace in the company of Rowena, gently pushed open the door to check on Rowena after giving her some time to rest.

But he sighed helplessly upon finding her already immersed in her duties. Even without the physicians doing anything, her body's rapid healing process already made her alright.

But he knew that didn't mean she wasn't exhausted after everything she went through.

Her piercing gaze, sharp as a hawk's, scanned the parchments scattered before her, but her mind was elsewhere.

Rowena raised her gaze and had her expression softened upon seeing him coming in, "I thought you might be sleeping since you didn't show your face for a couple of hours. So I didn't want to disturb you."

"You should be the one sleeping," Asher chuckled wryly as he remembered getting smothered by Merina's breasts for a while after she literally cried before she even learned of Ceti's condition because of the upsetting rumors she had been hearing about him before he returned.

But after learning about Ceti's condition, she broke down even more and wanted to see Ceti, though he explained to her that she had to wait until Igrid healed Ceti. He also wanted to ask Merina about the woman named 'Luna' who manifested in Ceti's body.

But he knew she wasn't in the state to answer and he also didn't want to shock her in case she had no idea.

And then, somehow, he ended up consoling her on the bed for a few hours until she dozed off. He felt it was better she got some rest like that since she seemed as if she hadn't slept for days, worried for him.

"Oh...I wouldn't have minded even if you did. But I can't express enough how much I missed you, even if I was only away for a short while," In one swift motion, he crossed the room, closing the distance between them, and enveloped Rowena in a fierce embrace.

He had no idea that he missed feeling her supple body in his embrace and the warmth of her skin.

"I missed you more," Their lips met in a searing kiss as Rowena raised her head while cradling his face.