The bells tolled, hollow and heavy, rolling across the capital like a funeral dirge.
Lucien stood amidst the gathering crowd, a boy of fifteen swallowed by a sea of robed zealots and sneering townsfolk. The scent of burning wood — and something worse — filled the air.
At the center of the plaza, his mother burned.
Once, she had been a healer. A woman who mended broken bones and sick hearts alike, asking for nothing in return. But no good deed mattered under the Church's judgment.
One whisper — one accusation of "Devil's blood" — had been enough.
The Archbishop, draped in flowing white and gold, lifted his ornate staff high. His voice rang out, smooth as poison.
"Another servant of darkness purified by holy fire! Praise be to the Sacred Light!"
The crowd erupted into cheers.
Lucien said nothing.
He forced his gaze downward, hiding the hatred burning in his soul.
He would not cry.
He would not scream.
That would only give them what they wanted: a broken boy they could parade as proof of their righteousness.
Instead, he smiled.
A soft, trembling smile — perfect for the role of the grateful orphan.
The Archbishop approached, placing a heavy, jeweled hand on Lucien's head.
"Fear not, child," the Archbishop intoned, so all could hear. "We shall cleanse you of her taint. You shall be raised in the Light."
Lucien bowed his head deeper. "Thank you... Your Grace."
His voice was steady. His hands were steady.
Only his heart raged like a storm.
"Smile."
"Obey."
"Wait."
One day, he would not be the helpless boy at their mercy.
One day, they would kneel at his feet — begging for mercy that would never come.
He would smile then too.
But it would not be a lie.
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[End of Chapter 1]
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Lucien is sent to the Church Academy.
Secretly, he plans his escape and contacts the Demon Race.
His real story of manipulation begins.