The grand Vermillion Castle was alive with music and laughter, the lavish birthday party for Nao in full swing. Royal guests, business elites, and family acquaintances mingled in the extravagant ballroom, oblivious to the darkness lurking just beyond the castle walls.
Nao, however, felt overwhelmed. The weight of the evening, the expectations, and the strange unease in his chest made it difficult to breathe. The polished chandeliers, the murmuring of guests, and the scent of fine wine all felt suffocating. He needed fresh air.
Quietly, he slipped away from the ballroom, stepping out into the cool night breeze of the castle's vast garden. The moon cast silver beams upon the delicate roses, the marble fountains glistening under the stars. The air smelled of fresh earth and blooming flowers. He inhaled deeply, trying to ease the restlessness in his chest.
From the shadows of the balcony above, Issadora watched him, a cruel smirk playing on her lips. She turned to her most loyal servant, Wick, who stood beside her, awaiting orders.
"He's alone," Issadora murmured, her voice laced with cold amusement. "It's time. Send them now."
Wick nodded and disappeared into the darkness.
Inside the castle, Adrian sipped his wine, his eyes scanning the room. Something didn't feel right. He hadn't seen Nao in a while, and that made his instincts uneasy. He put down his glass and walked toward Mr. Den, who was speaking with a group of investors.
"Have you seen Nao?" Adrian asked, interrupting the conversation.
Mr. Den frowned slightly. "He was just here. Perhaps he stepped outside?"
A strange tension crept into Adrian's spine. Without another word, he turned and strode toward the garden, his heartbeat picking up.
Nao strolled further into the garden, his thoughts drifting. The cold air cooled his warm skin, but his moment of peace shattered when a rustling sound came from behind the bushes.
He turned sharply.
From the darkness, five men dressed in black emerged, their eyes cold, their hands gripping guns. Panic struck Nao's chest like lightning. He took a step back, his pulse pounding in his ears.
One of the men smirked. "There you are, young master."
Fear clawed at Nao's throat. His body acted before his mind could catch up—he turned and ran. His heart pounded as his feet pounded the stone path. The men pursued him swiftly, their heavy boots echoing in the night. He ran past fountains, through arches, his mind racing for a way out.
The gunmen gained on him. He could hear their footsteps getting closer, hear their breaths. He could die here. On his birthday.
Then, from the corner of his eye, he spotted an old, overgrown iron gate hidden behind the hedge. Something in his gut told him to go there. Without thinking, he lunged toward it, gripping the rusted handle and yanking it open.
The door creaked as he stumbled inside, shutting it behind him. Darkness engulfed him. He panted, his breath uneven as he pressed his back against the cold stone wall. The air smelled of damp earth and something… ancient.
His eyes adjusted to the dim light, and then he saw it.
Chains. Thick, rusted chains sprawled across the stone floor, leading up to a figure—no, a being—bound within the depths of the hidden chamber.
A pair of glowing, molten-gold eyes met his. A towering figure with dark hair and ghostly pale skin stood before him. Chains wrapped around his wrists, his ankles, his throat. His presence was suffocating, powerful, as if the very air trembled around him. His wings, tattered and bound, twitched slightly.
Nao's heart stopped.
Raviel.
The name echoed in his mind. The books. The stories. The myths. They were real.
The chained demon's lips curved slightly, as if recognizing him. His voice was deep, edged with something ancient, something powerful.
"My owner," Raviel whispered. "You are the heir. You are the owner of my chains."
Nao's fingers trembled. His breath hitched. He had unknowingly walked into fate itself.
Outside, the party continued, unaware that the true heir of Vermillion had just stepped into destiny's grasp.