Chapter 1

It was a little past midnight. The crimson moon was shining in the sky, painting the earth red with its light. The wind blowing with all its might was chilling to the bone. On such a night, there had been quite eventful moments in one of the additional buildings of the Phasnis House for the past few hours. Lady Larillis Alora Phasnis, exhausted and disheveled, was lying on her bed. Just a few hours ago, the young lady, who had gone through a quite painful childbirth, was clearly weakened, but she was eagerly waiting to see her child. She had heard that the child was a boy, but she did not understand why a routine health check took so long. However, she did not consider the possibility of any problem with the child. After all, he was her son. How could he be damaged?

Then, there was a knock on the door. The tired lady invited the midwife in with a simple "come in".

The old woman entered with a newborn baby in her arms. It was clear from her expression that she did not have good news.

"Well? How is my precious child, Cissa? You brought me good news, didn't you?" Lady Larillis asked, almost snarling at the end of her words.

"Unfortunately, my lady. This old midwife did her best. But I couldn't do much because your son was born with a very sickly and disabled body."

"Disabled? What kind of disability are you talking about, you old hag! There must be a mistake, this is not possible! He has Phasnis blood! He cannot be disabled!"

"I am very sorry, my lady, but the young master will be deprived of the ability to speak throughout his life."

A frightening smile appeared on Lady Larillis's face. With this smile, a series of objects started flying towards the midwife.

"IMPOSSIBLE! YOU DEFINITELY DID SOMETHING TO HIM, YOU WICKED MIDWIFE! GET THAT DISGUSTING THING OUT OF MY SIGHT!! HE IS NOT MY SON!"

Several servants entered to stop Lady Larillis, who was having an outburst of anger. The midwife quickly fled the room with the baby in her arms. Fortunately, the items thrown by the mad lady did not harm either of them. As Cissa walked through the mansion, she thought about what she should do now. Lady Larillis did not want the child. Considering that the child was a bastard born out of wedlock, getting rid of him wouldn't be too difficult.

"Narcissa Letalis."

A deep voice echoed through the mansion. Ebe Cissa respectfully bowed her head as she raised it and gave the most magnificent greeting she could with a baby in her arms.

"My lord..."

"Show him to me, Letalis."

Narcissa, obeying the man's command, opened the swaddle so that the baby's face could be seen and positioned it for the man to see. As the man examined the baby, Narcissa also glanced at him briefly. The blood-red hair, which had become a symbol of the Phasnis House, was perfectly cut for a man of his age. The green eyes, tinged with yellow, had become entirely unique to the Phasnis lord, now his trademark. His pale white skin was not from old age but from birth. When Lord Phasnis's eyes met Narcissa's, the old woman shuddered.

"What is his condition?" 

Lord Phasnis asked as he turned his eyes back to the baby.

"I don't think he will even see his first year, my lord. The fire in his body is consuming him. I'm afraid the fire he possesses will bring about his own end. His body will weaken and burn more and more with each passing day until there is nothing left but ashes. Also, he has damaged vocal cords to the extent that he won't be able to speak a single word no matter how much he wants to. I cannot even heal him."

Lord Phasnis furrowed his brows as he continued to look at the baby.

"Are you sure it's impossible, midwife? There must be a way, no matter how difficult."

"I cannot do anything for his voice, but... There is a way for his fire. However, it will come at a high cost, and it may not be worth it for a bastard child-"

"Letalis, let me decide whether it's worth it or not. What is this way?"

"There is a mixture called Khione's Tears, my lord. There are very few of this mixture in the world because gathering its ingredients is very difficult and laborious, but it will be a very good treatment for him."

"The mixture will be in your hands within a week. If you apply proper treatment to him, it would be good, Letalis, do you understand?"

"This old woman understands, my lord. You can be sure that I will create the best possible treatment routine for the young master."

"One more thing, what did Larillis name him?"

"Lady... She did not give him a name, my lord."

"..."

"Narcissa, the silence that ensued made her even more tense. She wasn't sure what the man standing in front of her was thinking. Lord Phasnis leaned towards the baby and whispered.

"From now on, his name will be Hadeon. Hadeon Caelum Phasnis."

Narcissa looked at Lord Phasnis in astonishment as the crimson-haired man turned away and gracefully glided through the shadows of the mansion. At that moment, Cissa felt something on her face. It was the hand of little Hadeon, in her arms. Just like his grandfather, the baby with crimson hair was reaching his small, chubby hand upwards and looking at Narcissa with a smile on his face. When Narcissa looked into Hadeon's eyes, she encountered round orbs that shone like gold, reminiscent of the dawn. It was strange and eerie. Those dawn-colored eyes seemed to be searching her soul, threatening her with their fire... But what about his dark skin? For a moment, Cissa thought that the baby in her arms was the embodiment of fire, but she dismissed this thought, attributing it to her old age. As for the baby's features resembling the young lord, she didn't dare to make a single comment.

With cold sweat dripping from her neck, she brought little Hadeon to a small room that would be his chamber for the first 13 years of his life, much like a pantry. Inside, there was already a prepared cradle and a few baby items. Narcissa placed little Hadeon in his cradle and as she left the room, she instructed the servants to take care of him...

Days passed as swiftly as the waters in a flowing river. Narcissa did her best to keep Hadeon alive under Lord's orders. However, without the appropriate mixture, all she could do was prolong the baby's suffering. Hadeon's body was burning with a fire coming from his soul. Narcissa was now tired of looking at this hopeless baby. There was nothing more exhausting than dealing with this baby, who would be a disappointment even if he survived. She sighed and entered Hadeon's room. Hadeon was sleeping in his cradle, engulfed in flames. The old midwife approached the cradle and applied acupressure to the baby's twelve acupuncture points. This wouldn't fix Hadeon's condition, but at least it would buy him some time. While Narcissa continued to look at Hadeon with a pensive expression, she felt another presence in the room. When she turned around, she saw the man in black who had been watching her for some time.

"Good evening, Ms. Letalis. I was ordered to give this to you," said the man in a rather cold tone.

Narcissa shuddered but nodded as she took the mixture the man offered. Khione's Tears was now in her palms. After glancing at the ethereal blue liquid for a moment, she took a bottle standing in a corner and poured the mixture into the warm milk-filled bottle. This must be the best way to administer the precious medicine to a baby. The old midwife closed the bottle's cap and shook it gently. A few minutes later, when the milk turned baby blue, she went to the sleeping baby and brought the bottle to his lips. Although the baby couldn't see the bottle placed in his mouth, he immediately began to suck the milk in the bottle when he sensed it...

When there was no milk left in the bottle, Narcissa checked Hadeon's condition once again. Although the fire in the newborn's body left a stable body temperature, this temperature was still higher than that of an average person. However, there was nothing more to be done at this point. Hadeon had to learn to live with this. He could also choose not to live. It was a dilemma that he had to decide on.

* * * * * * * *

Alone in a room illuminated only by the silver light of the moon, a crimson-haired man lost in thought sat on his throne, looking outside. There was nothing to be seen where he was looking. Perhaps the depth of his thoughts was forcing him to look outside. The figure suddenly turned around and saw his brown-haired, middle-aged subordinate already kneeling.

"What brought you here, Raksa?"

"I came to report that I have completed my duty, my lord," said Raksa as he straightened up.

"Good," Lord Phasnis said, turning back to the window.

Raksa hesitated about whether to leave or not. Although he had many questions in his mind, he didn't feel quite sure about voicing these questions after seeing the pensive state of his lord.

"I can see the question marks in your mind, Raksa. Since when have you been afraid to receive information, Leader of the Ghost Warriors?"

"Forgive me, my lord. My subordinate did not want to be disrespectful and interrupt your thoughts."

"Now that it wouldn't be disrespectful, you can probably voice what's on your mind," said Lord Phasnis. Raksa nodded tensely.

"I don't want to overstep my bounds, my lord, but I couldn't understand why... you helped Lady Larillis's son... I mean, him..." Raksa trailed off as he tried to clarify his explanation.

"Why I helped my grandson, who was born sickly? Is that what you mean?"

Raksa nodded.

"Who knows, maybe it's because I have softened with old age," Lord Phasnis replied with an inscrutable expression.

"You and softened? I highly doubt it, my lord..."

"Let's assume it's true, Raksa..."

"Let's assume so, my lord," said Raksa without questioning.

Lord Phasnis turned his head to the sky. His green eyes, tinged with yellow, sparkled in the moonlight, and Raksa, giving a final salute, left the throne room...