… I opened my eyes, and as my vision slowly cleared, a hazy crimson fog stretched before me, blurring the boundary between sky and ground. The distinction between them was nearly gone. It felt like I was standing alone in the darkness—but I wasn’t. Someone nearby was calling my name.0

"Deculein."0

The man's voice, heavy with malice, weighed on my chest. A rare emotion stirred deep within me, something I hadn't felt in a long time—fear.0

"My son."0

Decalane, Deculein’s father and the former head of the Yukline family, was the one who led our lineage to greatness. He was the only man Deculein ever feared.0

Decalane fixed his blood-red eyes on me and declared, "I have found the proper vessel."0

His voice, his gestures, the way his eyes moved, and even the air around him stirred something deep inside me. The back of my neck grew tense, and goosebumps spread across my arms. It felt as though my very soul was trembling. Yet, despite all of this, something felt wrong.0

Did Deculein possess such a mechanism at all? Was there ever a part of him that could acknowledge something as insignificant as fear? After all, wasn’t he a man whose mind had been, at least in part, shattered?9

I began to question this emotion. It wasn’t something Decalane had created, but rather the result of an external influence—a reaction. It had to be the work of magical brainwashing, a deliberate intrusion by Decalane, once celebrated as the greatest Art Mage of his time.0

I swept away the fog that veiled his figure and fixed my gaze on the image of Decalane, buried deep within Deculein’s subconscious.0

"Deculein, my son," Decalane declared.0

The man standing before me resembled Deculein, but he was even colder and more ruthless, embodying the Yukline family’s creed perfectly—Fear the demon.1

"Bring it before me."0

Deculein feared him, and that fear seeped into me as well. However...0

"I am not Deculein," I stated.0

I wasn’t overwhelmed by it. No matter how much brainwashing had been etched into...0