Alexander, the formidable Commander of the Knights, stood, his gaze piercing through the young man before him, "Andria." He broke the heavy silence with his deep, resonant voice. "So, you say your name is Andria, and the sword that comes to you in your dreams—when you held it, it told you that it chose you, correct?"

  Alexander exhaled slowly, circling Andria like a wolf studying its prey. "I saw what happened when you wielded the Blood Spear. Its effect on you was... unusual. I previously said you are a demon, but allow me to correct myself. You are not a full demon, but a half-demon."

  Andria's eyes widened in confusion and fear. He tried to speak, but Alexander cut him off with a sharp hand gesture, then turned to his aides, ordering in a booming voice, "Bring the spear. We need practical proof."

  In the training yard, under everyone's anxious eyes, Alexander extended the spear toward Andria. "Grasp it with your right hand." Andria’s hand trembled as he gripped the handle. A few tense moments passed, but nothing happened. Alexander smiled cryptically and whispered, "Now... try the left."

  The moment his left fingertips touched the spear, the atmosphere shifted instantly. Tatsuko and Ahil exchanged looks of stark terror.

  Tatsuko whispered, his voice catching, "Do you see what I see?"

  Ahil swallowed hard, responding, "Yes... How is this possible? Human and demon in one body? This is... exciting and terrifying at the same time."

  Alexander interjected, his voice calm but weighted with knowledge: "You are the first case of your kind, boy. You embody both worlds."

  Andria asked with a frightened innocence, "You said I’m like a demon, but I don't even know what they look like. Are they very different from us?"

  Alexander stepped closer, leaning down slightly to meet his eye level, and said with a stern, pedagogical tone:

  "Listen closely. Since the Great War between the first two Lords, humanity has split. Demons look exactly like us, but the difference lies in the horns. They can hide the horns on their heads, but they are powerless to hide the small horns on their necks—that is the mark of shame that defines their pack."

  Andria’s curiosity overcame his fear: "Are there types?"

  "Yes," Alexander replied, ticking them off on his fingers:

  "The first type: Ordinary Demons—they possess little power.

  The second: The Two-Horned—they are slightly stronger.

  Then come the Seven Great Lineages: Vampires, the Four Elementals, the Riders of the Hell Dragons, and finally, the Sorcerers."

  Alexander paused, then looked straight into Andria’s eyes with a sly glint: "Now that you know the types... wouldn't you like to know which one your half belongs to?"

  Andria held his breath, his heart pounding. "Yes... I must possess unbelievable power."

  Alexander burst into laughter, shaking his head scornfully:

  "Yes, you are a demon... An Ordinary Demon!"

  Mark's laughter echoed in the yard. He clutched his stomach and mockingly patted Tatsuko’s shoulder: "Oh, my gods! Tatsuko, congratulations! You fought an ordinary demon and almost died of fright! What an achievement!"

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  Tatsuko’s face flushed with anger and shame, while Alexander roared, his look terrifying everyone:

  "Mark! Silence, or I’ll separate your head from your body!"

  He then turned to Andria, who looked utterly crushed:

  "It is an achievement in itself to be the first human half-demon, even if your power is... pathetic."

  The Edict of Exile

  After the "farce," Andria was chained as a precaution while Alexander decided his fate. Voices rose in the hall:

  "I am not a danger!" Andria cried, struggling against the restraints.

  Alexander ignored him, muttering, rubbing his chin in thought:

  "You must be watched at all times... Where is the Lord of Ice? He did not attend the trial?"

  "He did not come, My Lord."

  "Then it is decided. You will go south, with the unit of the Lord of the South."

  Andria’s eyes widened in shock: "Wait—you said south? To the coldest region on the continent?"

  "Yes."

  "This is an outrage! I object! Kill me rather than make me freeze there!"

  Alexander motioned to the guards with cold indifference: "The decision is final. Prepare yourselves."

  The Shadow and the Plot

  After everyone left, Marcus, Alexander’s aide, entered, his face pale and his eyes filled with hatred toward Andria. He approached his master and whispered nervously:

  "My Lord, are you certain of what you are doing? We must extinguish that boy's fuse now. We have to eliminate him before it’s too late."

  Alexander turned his back to his aide, staring out the window absently:

  "Are you that afraid, Marcus?"

  "I am not afraid for myself, My Lord, but—"

  Alexander cut him off, his voice calm yet stormy:

  "Enough. Fate has played its hand, and it is beginning to unfold. We are merely pawns in this grand game."

  "But he carries the crown the demons are searching for! If they capture him, a war like the First Beginning War will break out! Allow me to go and kill him."

  "Kill an innocent soul because he is 'The Chosen'? Who among us chooses their ability? Marcus, do not dare attempt anything against that boy. Do you hear me?"

  Marcus bowed his head in feigned submission: "Yes, My Lord."

  Journey to the Yellow Frost

  The next morning, Andria rode in a carriage with the merchant Marco and his small daughter Diana, heading toward the region known as The Yellow Frost.

  The weather grew colder with every mile. Andria shivered, muttering under his breath: "I want death... I won't follow him anymore. I do not want to die in this frozen hell."

  Suddenly, the merchant Marco flinched as if bitten by a snake, turning around in terror:

  "The smell of death... How did your power reach this area?" He muttered incoherent words about the "Lord of Death" and the "Ancient Will," then looked at Andria with bulging eyes:

  "You... and the person watching you... They are both terrifying. But after seeing you, I no longer know whom I fear more."

  Andria tried to change the subject to break the tension: "How long have you been trading here, Uncle Marco?"

  "A long time, boy... since I was about fifteen. Do you know 'William,' the Ice Lord?"

  Marco smiled wistfully, as if recalling a warm memory:

  "When he was young, he had a powerful smile... I hope he keeps smiling like that his whole life."

  Diana, the merchant’s daughter, interrupted with a sharp tone, glaring at Andria with disgust:

  "You! What is that annoying noise? Stop bothering my father with your trivial questions."

  Andria looked at her coldly: "I am not bothering him, we are just talking. Who is this girl, and why is she so angry?"

  Diana shouted: "Stop talking and get in the carriage! Did you say something?"

  Andria smiled slyly, tilting his head slightly:

  "Are you talking nonsense? I haven't spoken a word."

  "You are lying! I heard you!"

  "Of course, I didn't speak, but I read your thoughts, you idiot... Is that my power?"

  Diana froze in place, while Andria whispered to himself: "You truly are special, Andria. I don't need anyone to tell me that."

  The Hidden Watcher

  Nearby, hidden in the shadows, someone watched the convoy with a bloody smile.

  "It seems I will enjoy myself a little..."

  Another voice whispered into his mind, a voice carrying a cold warning:

  "You are on an observation mission only. Do not do anything foolish that makes it seem like the Lord of Death sent you."

  The watcher chuckled softly:

  "Don't worry, I won't touch him... but others are waiting for him on the road. Do you think he will come out alive?"

  "You are overstepping and defying the Lord of Death. Don't you know his power flows even here? He is also waiting for the results. He wants to know why the whole world has awakened for this boy."

  The shadow slowly faded, whispering words carried by the cold wind toward Andria's

  Carriage:

  "Prepare yourself, Andria, for death approaches you step by step