A restless silence, perhaps the most unsettling in history, reigned over the grand drawing room of the Krowell Manor. Two immense powers sat across from each other: Vaelmon Krowell, the High Mage of the East Kingdom, and Mezrathus Val-Tenebris, the formidable lord of the Demon Realm. Behind Vaelmon stood Nerya and her mother Elowen, inhaling the pre-storm stillness; behind Mezrathus stood his son Abaddon, standing firm in his father's imposing shadow.

  Mezrathus broke the silence with his deep, authoritative voice. "Lord Vaelmon, I received your letter. The fury overflowing from your lines was so evident that I wished to see the gravity of this situation between my son and your daughter for myself." Though Mezrathus was a tender-hearted father at core, he possessed a mountain-like sternness to the outside world. He turned his gaze slowly toward his son. "Abaddon... Do you have anything to say? This silence is not solving the matter."

  Abaddon looked into his father's eyes with unwavering resolve. "Yes, Father. I love Nerya. Since the situation has reached this point, there is no longer any use in hiding the truth from you—neither for our honor nor for our love."

  Vaelmon interrupted, gritting his teeth. His voice trembled with suppressed rage. "Nerya is a betrothed girl! I demand that you end this unseemly relationship immediately!"

  Despite her father's authority, Nerya stepped forward. "I am not betrothed to anyone, Father! I do not accept the bargains you've made over my own life!"

  Vaelmon roared: "Nerya, silence! Your elders are speaking!"

  Mezrathus watched the tension with cold composure. "I see... Your internal family matters do not concern me much. I only wished to see the woman my son loves. However, as I understand it, Lord Vaelmon, you do not support this relationship. Is it merely because we are 'demons', or is there another fear lurking beneath?"

  The air in the room grew heavy as if gravity itself had doubled. Vaelmon replied in an ice-cold tone: "Lord Mezrathus, you know well that if rumors spread in the East Kingdom that my daughter is with a demon, it would be a catastrophe for my reputation. The minds of the youth may not grasp these political balances, but as elders, we must solve this matter at its root."

  A crimson glint appeared in Mezrathus’s eyes. "Reputation? Is that how much you fear our kind, Vaelmon? The war has been over for a long time; you know this."

  "Fear?" Vaelmon stood up, small wisps of wind mana beginning to swirl around him. "I am the High Mage! My only concern is the reputation and order of the kingdom. I will not allow a demon to crush that, nor will I permit the staining of my lineage!"

  "What insolence!" As Mezrathus stood, the foundations of the manor shook. Paintings fell from the walls, and windows rattled. As the auras of the two leaders collided, purple and green sparks flickered in the air. Mezrathus bellowed: "You humans tend to look down on everyone outside your own kind! Yet, you live no longer than us, and your magic is no match for ours... Still, you do not compromise on your arrogance!"

  The atmosphere had reached a breaking point. Elowen and Abaddon immediately stepped in. Abaddon grabbed his father's arm. "Father! Please, be calm!" Elowen embraced her husband. "Vaelmon, my life, compose yourself! You are terrifying the children; you'll bring the manor down upon us!"

  Mezrathus took a deep breath, suppressing his aura, though his anger was still palpable. "Abaddon, we are leaving. I don't think I can maintain my composure if I stay here any longer. Put an end to this nonsense with Nerya right here."

  Abaddon did not move. "No, Father. I will not leave Nerya. When you asked me, I gave you my answer. My decision has not changed."

  Mezrathus was seeing this defiance in his son for the first time. Abaddon had always been cold, distant, and obedient to his father. Vaelmon flew into a frenzy at this determination. "Who do you think you are to claim my daughter? You are not worthy of her, you lowly creature!" he cried, gathering a spell in his hand.

  At that moment, a terrifying concentration of mana formed in the center of the room. Abaddon and Nerya activated the dangerous and forbidden spell they had pre-planned: "The Soul-Binding Twin-Headed Spear." In both their hands, an energy mass resembling a pitch-black, glowing spear appeared, their tips pointed toward each other. This spell carried a curse that would shatter the soul of the other if one were to be harmed.

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  Vaelmon shouted in horror: "Nerya, have you lost your mind? Cancel that forbidden spell at once!"

  Mezrathus was also panicked. "Abaddon Val-Tenebris! I command you, cancel the spell immediately!"

  Elowen pleaded through tears: "My daughter, please do not harm yourself! Don't do this!"

  Nerya looked at her father, holding the spell firmly. "Forgive me, Mother... But I would rather die here than enter a soulless, political marriage with a man I do not love."

  Abaddon turned to Mezrathus and added: "Father, I told you my decision clearly. My love for Nerya is not just words. If you know me even a little, you know I will not hesitate to use this spell on myself."

  Vaelmon was seething with fury. "You! You have recruited my daughter into your dark dealings! I knew it, demons can never be trusted!"

  Mezrathus, realizing the gravity of the situation, turned to Vaelmon. "Vaelmon, let it go... Let the children be together. Don't you see? They love each other enough to risk their very lives."

  "Never!" Vaelmon insisted. "Nerya cannot be with a demon!"

  "You stubborn fool! Do you not even value your daughter’s life?"

  Vaelmon made a sudden gust of wind to deactivate the forbidden spell in his daughter's hand. But there was something he hadn't calculated: forbidden spells touched divine laws and perceived any external interference as a threat. The moment Vaelmon’s wind struck the spear, the spell detonated in a "counter-explosion."

  Mezrathus and Vaelmon raised their hands in the same split second. Mezrathus placed his knights behind him and tried to build a wall of darkness, while Vaelmon, together with Elowen, tried to create a barrier of wind. However, the purple ring emitted by the forbidden spell shattered the barriers of both leaders, throwing everyone around the room with the force of the blast. This was not something that could be stopped by the power of man or demon. Time slowed down. For the first time, the two mighty leaders were helpless within the chaos they had created. They were too late to intervene.

  "NERYA!"

  Abaddon’s cry drowned out all other sounds in the room. The demon, defying his physical limits, opened his wings with a speed even the wind could not match. As the explosion occurred, Abaddon acted as a shield, covering Nerya.

  As the dust cloud slowly dissipated, the sight that emerged silenced Vaelmon’s mind. There was a demon collapsed on his knees. His wings were charred, their skeletal structures shattered in places. But that demon was still shielding his daughter. Nerya stood within Abaddon’s arms, trembling but alive.

  Vaelmon’s fingers shook violently upon his staff. This... was impossible. A demon had disregarded his own life—and the greatest honor of a demon, his wings—to protect a human. His daughter.

  The thick walls Vaelmon had built in his mind over the years—those hating voices saying "Demons are selfish," "Demons only bring destruction," "Demons are soulless"—began to crumble piece by piece. His petrified pride had cracked for the first time.

  Abaddon smiled faintly amidst the ashes falling onto Nerya’s hair as he struggled for breath. On his face was only relief—the pure peace of having saved the one he loved.

  Vaelmon took a step, but his feet felt as though they were bolted to the floor. Elowen’s voice was heard through her sobs: "Vaelmon… our daughter is alive. He... He saved her."

  The High Mage’s chest grew heavy as if a great mountain had been placed upon it. This man, who ruled over magic, wind, and kingdoms, could not govern the simple emotion within his own ribcage at this moment. He looked slowly at Abaddon. The old arrogance in his voice was gone, replaced by a profound void.

  "You…" His voice cracked; he swallowed, trying to compose himself. "Why did you do this? Why did you sacrifice the honor of your kind, your wings... for a human?"

  Abaddon barely opened his eyes, his gaze still on Nerya. "Because she is my life, Sir Vaelmon. I have no need for honor to protect Nerya’s life."

  This devastating answer shattered the last remnants of resistance within Vaelmon. The High Mage dropped his staff to the floor. His shoulders slumped; the weight of years suddenly bore down on him. The oppressive aura of wind in the room vanished completely.

  There was a long silence. Finally, Vaelmon whispered a sentence much heavier than an apology, much more painful than a confession:

  "It seems... I am not only blind but also a coward."

  Vaelmon did not say "I'm sorry," for he knew no word could cover the magnitude of his error. But in that moment, as he looked at Abaddon’s broken wings, the hatred within High Mage Vaelmon Krowell fell silent for the first time; all that remained was a broken father, owing his daughter's life to a demon.

  Mezrathus felt a deep regret for not being able to take his son into the barrier in time. "Abaddon, we must return to the Demon Realm immediately. We will see how we can lift the curse of this spell from you."

  Abaddon nodded. "Nerya was also exposed to this spell, Father... It is difficult to lift cursed spells, as you know. If we find a cure, we must help Nerya too."

  Vaelmon intervened: "I will do everything in my power as well. The East Kingdom is famous for its healing magic; I will use every resource."

  Mezrathus left the manor with his wounded son and the black-armored knights. While Nerya tried to soothe the pain of the curse with the calming magic of the healers sent from the palace, her mother Elowen did not leave her daughter's bedside for a single moment.

  Vaelmon, however, stood on his balcony at midnight, clutching his staff and staring into the darkness. A demon protecting his daughter at the cost of his own life had overturned all his beliefs.