Imperial Capital - Ars Luma

A handsome male sits in an extravagant chair in his room with three men in armour, all kneeling at his feet with stern looks on their faces.

"Is it done?"

The moment the handsome male speaks, his pink lips show a moment of disdain, then switch into a slight smirk.

His blue eyes look at the men in church attire kneeling before him.

"Your Highness! The deed is done, and the devil's spawn has been killed." 

"The unit ventured to the southern wastelands where even rats wouldn't live. The church already received word the witch of Greed killed all members."

"Who reported this information?" Asked the crown prince, his hand grasping a golden goblet filled with dark red wine. 

All three knights answered immediately before lowering their heads in fear of the prince who bought their freedom and still allowed them to serve the church.

"The reserve knights watched all of them killed with a dark spell... Just like the Agmar."

Nodding twice, the prince seemed pleased with their report that matched the documents on his desk, mailed from a bishop and High Priest who also served him.

'Dear brother, it seems your devilish luck finally ran out. Not only did you survive the trap with the ogres—well, I killed your filthy half-elf consort, so that's a win for me.'

A twisted smile formed, causing the knights to tremble as if the room became shrouded in ice.

"You may retire; take the reward you have earned. I shall inform my father."

The man's name was Lucas Arcadium. First son and crown prince of the Imperial Kingdom of Arcadia.

He watched the filthy men leaving the room greedy for the coin despite being treacherous thieves and swine from low backgrounds.

"Albert, kill them and silence the high priest." 

"Yes, my Prince." answered a voice from the void before the door abruptly slammed, and sounds of scuffling lasted less than a moment.

'Nobody can know that I had my brother killed. Whether his mother was a devil or not. Father still holds a soft spot for Sigurd.'

Prince Lucas slowly grasped the documents from the church, giving one last sneer while reading them, his handsome face distorted with a wicked delight before tossing them onto the flames. "Farewell, brother."

***

He walked towards the planning room where his father and the Knight General spent most of their days to plan plans to push back the Agmar.

'An existence said to be created by the blood of a fallen evil goddess landing on our world. There is no truth to that story apart from the Agmar, who cannot die. Their only weakness was high-level magic, but the church created a lie to stabilise the people. About cursed children...'

"What do you mean, ask for the support of the witches! MY KING ARE YOU MAD!?"

"Galahad! Our lands are shrinking. By the day, a dozen knights fall, and the church keeps us on a leash, telling us to wait!"

"Telling me to wait while my people suffer!"

The sound of two men arguing came from within the door, causing Lucas to halt his steps. A snake must always gather information, or should his head fall. 'Oh, father, you do still adore your slut of a dead wife and that bastard brother of mine.'

Helena, a woman whom the king fell in love with in his years at the Royal academy in the eastern kingdom of Terra. 

She was the most beautiful maiden of the five continents, twice voted. However, she held a deep secret. 

'The woman's bloodline was that of the Fifth devil of Greed Mammon! One of the first Devils! The bastards that created Agmar and fractured our world into five continents. Don't be a foolish man, father. That slut isn't even human! She was a treacherous elf hiding her true form!'

Lucas listened to his father, who seemed adamant the witches could help save more lives than a corrupt church that sought coin rather than righteousness and salvation.

'Father, the church doesn't help you because you married a devil and gave her a child...'

His lips curled into a wicked smile, stepping closer to the door as it seemed Galahad surrendered to the King with a bitter loss, but Lucas would soon overturn this with his breaking news.

'But that slut didn't make just any child. On the day the great heroes defeated the Seven Devils... The dying pope made a sudden prophecy about the second coming of the dark times.'

A male child with silver hair would be born in the West; he would inherit the bloodline of Mammon, and using this power, he would become a true Devil, harnessing a power unseen before.

He would become a calamity greater than the great fracturing. 

The boy would bring the end of humanity and lead the Agmar against them. That was the prophecy the former pope gave! 'Obviously, my bastard of a brother...' 

****

With the loud slam of the wooden doors, the King was sitting on his throne, a middle-aged man who seemed to have been quite the charming male in his time. Now, his beard had turned grey and pale on his cheeks.

"Oh, Lucas! You came all this way?"

Upon entering, Lucas went to bow to his father. "My King." 

"There is no need for formalities; only me and your uncle Galahad are here. Boy... stand."

Lucas seemed to stand.

However, he stopped in his hands, a document seemingly officially bound as he spoke with a trembling voice while holding out the altered document given to him by the bishop with all the needed official stamps and markings.

"Father... It's about my dear brother. Something terrible..."

"Sigurd!? What! Give me that!"

His father showed no grace or sign of a king but a worried father as he grabbed the book with a powerful swipe. 

Without care, he tore the bindings, unfastened the bishop's seal, and read the dull brown parchment smelling like damp mud and earth. "No..." 

Instantly, his body collapsed, falling into a nearby seat as Galahad rushed forward to support his king, with Lucas slowly following with a blank face. "MY KING!?"

"Galahad..." The king's voice was hoarse as tears glistened in his eyes and blood oozed from the pressure of him biting down. 

"Yes, My King!"

"Find a messenger and send him to the Church of Light. We will seek an alliance with them as you wished..." 

'Father... Your emotions will be your downfall. Why get so angry over a monster?'

Lucas felt no remorse at the death of his brother, whom his father adored. But, simultaneously, his brother was the only key to gaining the throne and unseating his father.

He was on the verge of completing the plan. His father would be desperate to avenge Sigurd by fighting the Agmar and Witches.

'So I shall become a hero by killing the foolish man who doomed our imperial paradise to fall... Then, the church will be forced to give me the title of king.'

"What should I tell the church, My King!?"

"That we will join their forces in attacking the witches and throw any fragmented out to the cold, nay. Send them to the southern wastelands. Let them be torn apart by beasts and serve as companions to my son's grave. I've heard witches are always beautiful. My son deserves beautiful companions!"

"But the southern wasteland is a land where not even rats can live..."

"I don't care, Galahad. If you have a problem with my words, you may follow them!"

'....'

Prince Lucas felt a slight pain in his chest, not enough to cause worry. But watching his father in such an agitated state. He began wondering to himself.

'Would father be like this for me?'

Turning his back to his father, Lucas despised this world controlled by the current powers.

When the first Devils appeared, seven dominated the world with their dark magic and incomparable power.

Once they shattered the continents, each of them took home one, while two remained in the lands at the centre. Never showing until the last battle, as if waiting.

That was when humanity's hell truly began. The devils fornicated, raped and impregnated women and accepted the seed of the males... 

Thus gave birth to the Witches when they were called High Elves. The first generation of witches were humanity's enemy, fighting for the devils. Their magic killed thousands, cruel and uncaring for anything but their devil parent.

Until the Seven Heroes were born and fought for the gods of light…blessed with power beyond a normal mortal. 

'However, what do you think would happen to hundreds of beautiful, never ageing women...?'

'The heroes fell in love with the purest of the remaining elves, which led to the birth of the useless half-elves. A disgusting and cursed existence...'

Decades passed, millennia passed, and then 1000 years before Sigurd was born. Finally, the witches became sick of their life of torment.

Seven witches who gained the power of their ancestors, the Devils, used them to defeat humanity in a single war, causing both sides to be crippled. Weak against the ever-growing Agmar in the dark corners of the continents.

Finally free, the witches spread worldwide, forming their cities and kingdoms...

However, after 1000 years of crusades, heroes and battles.

Their outnumbered situation resulted in the loss of countless battles and the destruction of their kingdoms and homes, ultimately leaving behind only a few dozen villages or small towns.

People never hated them because of their hair or because they were the only ones able to kill the Agmar or the rumour—they shared the blood of devils that caused the church and higher powers to hunt them.

They feared the rebirth of the seven devils more than anything in the world. So they killed, tortured and maimed them into docile slaves.

"Father... Since you chose this road. I hope you do not blame me for forgetting my family. Now direct your hatred and anger towards that stupid slut."

"I will kill you. WITCH OF GREED!"

A scream of pain echoed through the castle as Lucas walked into the darkness, his direction leading away from the castle and into the city, the darkness of the night hiding his figure from plain sight.

Tonight, he would celebrate.