It was a cold, rainy night. The kind where even the stars dared not show themselves. Only the full moon hung high in the sky—radiant, watchful, and indifferent.

  ?A man stood quietly by the roadside. His coat was torn, his frame frail, and the relentless rain plastered his clothes to his shivering skin. He looked weary, lines of resignation etched deep around his eyes.

  ?"Calling me in the middle of the night..." he muttered, his voice barely audible over the hiss of the rain. "Just because they are Viremonts, they think they own the world."

  ?From the veil of mist, a black carriage emerged. No crests. No lanterns. Just a shadow on wheels.

  ?The man straightened.

  ?As it stopped, the door creaked open. A gloved hand extended from the darkness.

  ?"This way, please."

  ?The doctor hesitated for a fraction of a second—a flicker of unease crossing his eyes—before he climbed in.

  ?Just as the door clicked shut, a whisper seemed to slip through the wind.

  ?Luma Renai.

  ?The doctor froze. "Huh?" He looked around the cramped cabin. "Did you say something?"

  ?"No," the driver replied, his voice flat. "We must move quickly."

  ?The doctor frowned but nodded. The drumming of rain on the roof drowned out his doubts, but the unease settled deep in his gut.

  ?The destination was an old stone cabin, perched at the edge of the forest, far from prying eyes.

  ?"Where is he?!"

  ?A woman’s scream tore through the storm, frantic and laced with hysteria.

  ?"He should be here any minute!" another voice answered from inside, strained with panic.

  ?The doctor didn't wait. He burst through the doors, drenched and breathless.

  ?The room was dimly lit, smelling of iron and sweat.

  ?"Move aside!"

  ?He shoved past the paralyzed maids. On the bed lay Lady Ellyssia of Viremont. She was pale, ghostly white, her breaths coming in shallow, ragged gasps.

  ?The child was crowning. But something was wrong.

  ?The doctor knelt instantly. "Boil water! More towels! Now!"

  ?He turned to the midwife, his voice sharp. "Hold her head. Don't let her drift away."

  ?Luma Renai.

  ?Ellyssia’s body was growing colder by the second.

  ?"Lady Ellyssia, focus on my voice," the doctor commanded, his tone low and urgent. "One last push. Just one more, and it will be over."

  ?Ellyssia gave a weak nod. Her lips trembled, blue-tinged.

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  ?"Now—PUSH!"

  ?A final, primal scream ripped from her throat.

  ?And then—silence.

  ?Broken a second later by a cry.

  ?The child emerged. Alive. Breathing.

  ?"She made it," the doctor whispered, a wave of relief crashing over him.

  ?He wrapped the infant in a soft cloth and handed her to the midwife. The room seemed to exhale.

  ?Then, Ellyssia’s sister, Vivianne, stepped forward. Her face was streaked with tears.

  ?"Give her to my sister," she choked out. "She needs to hold her. Please."

  ?The midwife hesitated, glancing at the doctor. He nodded.

  ?They placed the newborn girl into Ellyssia’s arms.

  ?The noblewoman’s eyes, unfocused and dimming, found the tiny bundle. A faint, tragic smile touched her lips. She held the child close, her strength failing.

  ?"Sister..." Vivianne sobbed, a mix of joy and terror on her face.

  ?"Ah..."

  ?Ellyssia’s smile faltered. The light in her eyes flickered out.

  ?"Lady Ellyssia?" the midwife asked, alarm rising in her voice.

  ?Luma Renai... Luma Renai...

  ?With the last ounce of her soul, Ellyssia gritted her teeth.

  ?"Aelira..."

  ?She looked down at the child one last time.

  ?"My daughter."

  ?And then, she was gone. Her arms went slack, falling to her sides.

  ?"Lady Ellyssia? Please—stay with me!" Vivianne screamed. "SISTER!"

  ?The doctor rushed to her side, pressing two fingers against her neck. He waited. One second. Two.

  ?Nothing.

  ?He lowered his head, closing his eyes. "She is gone."

  ?Vivianne collapsed to the floor, her wails shattering the room. The newborn, Aelira, began to cry—her first breaths greeted by rain and grief.

  ?Bang.

  ?The heavy oak door slammed open.

  ?The wailing stopped. The sobbing ceased.

  ?An old man stood in the doorway. Silver hair plastered to his skull, a fur-lined cloak dripping with rain, and eyes sharp enough to cut glass.

  ?Sylas Viremont. The Head of the House.

  ?He didn't scream. He didn't run. He simply walked into the room, his presence heavy and suffocating.

  ?He took two steps. His jaw tightened.

  ?He saw the newborn.

  ?He saw the corpse.

  ?"Father..." Vivianne whispered from the floor, her voice broken. "Sister is... dead."

  ?Sylas stopped. For a brief moment, he swayed—a crack in the pillar. But just as quickly, the mask of cold control slammed back into place.

  ?"My Lord—" a servant stepped forward, trembling.

  ?Sylas raised a hand. Silence.

  ?"I'm fine," he said. His voice was flat. Dead.

  ?He looked around the room, his eyes calculating, assessing, planning.

  ?"We must act swiftly," he said, his tone devoid of mourning. "No one can know Ellyssia died giving birth to a bastard child."

  ?He turned to Vivianne.

  ?"Vivianne."

  ?She looked up, eyes red and swollen. "Y-Yes, Father?"

  ?"This child is yours now. From this day on, she is your daughter. You will marry Wilkram. That is final."

  ?Vivianne’s lips parted in shock. "Father...?"

  ?"Is there a problem?" His eyes narrowed. A dangerous glint flashed within them.

  ?A pause.

  ?"...No, Father." Her voice was barely a whisper.

  ?He nodded, already writing the script in his mind.

  ?"Ellyssia was drinking. She fell from the balcony. A tragic accident. That is what the world will hear."

  ?The doctor, still kneeling beside the body, looked up in horror. "What are you talking about? That's madness—!"

  ?He never finished the sentence.

  ?Shing.

  ?Sylas stepped forward. A single, fluid motion.

  ?The doctor choked, clutching his throat as blood sprayed across the stone floor. He collapsed, his eyes wide with betrayal, gurgling his last breath at Sylas’s feet.

  ?A maid screamed.

  ?"Quiet."

  ?Sylas’s voice was ice.

  ?"Hold the baby, Vivianne."

  ?Vivianne froze, staring at the blood.

  ?"I said, hold the baby."

  ?Trembling, the midwife passed the crying infant to Vivianne. Vivianne took the child, her face a mask of shock.

  ?Then, without a word...

  ?Steel flashed again.

  ?Sylas moved with terrifying speed. One by one, he cut the witnesses down. No hesitation. No mercy. Just the swift, brutal efficiency of a man cleaning up a mess.

  ?Blood painted the walls. Screams were cut short, replaced by the heavy silence of death.

  ?Only the baby’s cries remained.

  ?"Tch. What a mess."

  ?Sylas wiped his blade on a dead maid’s apron, looking more annoyed than remorseful.

  ?Footsteps thundered outside. Guards burst into the room, swords drawn.

  ?"Sir! Are you alright?!"

  ?"Yes." Sylas didn't even look at them. "Clean this up. Send Ellyssia’s body back to the mansion. Make it look like a fall."

  ?"U-Understood." The guard hesitated, glancing at the bundle in Vivianne’s arms. "And the child? Should we... dispose of it?"

  ?Sylas turned. His gaze was sharp, weighing the value of the life before him.

  ?"No."

  ?He pointed a blood-stained finger at the wailing infant.

  ?"Look at her mana. It’s massive. She’ll be useful."

  ?A cold, calculating smile touched his lips.

  ?"She lives."