Chapter 15

Ten years ago, in the dimly lit chambers of the demon prince, Zerro, the morning ritual of waking up was a daily struggle.

The heavy velvet curtains shielded the room from the invading daylight, but even their thickness couldn't keep out the persistent voice of his butler.

With a weary groan, Zerro buried himself deeper into the warmth of his bedsheets, hoping to delay the inevitable start to his day.

"Prince Zerro, it's time to wake up!" The butler's voice pierced through the veil of sleep, accompanied by the creak of the door as he entered the room, ready to commence his duties.

But Zerro, the reluctant denizen of the demon realm, wasn't quite ready to face the world yet. With a feeble protest, he pulled the covers over his head, attempting to block out the intrusion of morning light and responsibility.

"I don't want to," he mumbled, his voice muffled by the fabric, his reluctance palpable.

But his butler, ever steadfast in his duty, refused to be deterred. With a resigned sigh, he approached the bed and yanked the curtains open, flooding the room with the harsh glow of dawn.

"It is important to rise early and attend to your duties," the elderly butler began, his tone carrying the weight of countless mornings spent in this exact same routine.

Zerro, begrudgingly conceding defeat, finally sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with a mixture of irritation and resignation.

"I must be awake early, I know," he muttered, his tone a blend of annoyance and fondness. "You always say the same thing over and over again."

Despite his protestations, a small smile tugged at the corners of Zerro's lips, a testament to the enduring bond between prince and servant, forged through years of shared duty and camaraderie.

With his butler's gentle reminders echoing in his ears, Zerro reluctantly tore himself away from the comforting embrace of his bed and prepared to face the day ahead. His butler, ever attentive to his needs, had laid out his clothes neatly on the bed, alongside a fresh towel, toothbrush, and cup, a silent reminder of the responsibilities that awaited him.

"Breakfast will be ready in an hour, so please be ready by then. Your majesty and Prince Erlik will also be joining you," the butler reminded him, his voice a steady reassurance in the early morning haze.

Zerro nodded in acknowledgment, gathering his belongings before retreating to the expansive confines of his lavish bathroom. There, amidst the marble and gilded fixtures, he indulged in the simple pleasures of grooming, allowing the warm water to chase away the remnants of sleep and prepare him for the day ahead.

Emerging from his ablutions refreshed and rejuvenated, Zerro made his way to the dining room, his footsteps echoing softly against the polished floors. With a cheery smile and a wave of greeting, he acknowledged the workers bustling about their morning tasks, their presence a comforting constant in the tumult of his royal duties.

Entering the dining room, Zerro was greeted by the familiar sight of his brother and father seated at the table, their morning repast spread out before them.

"Zerro, you're late," his father chided gently, his voice carrying the weight of authority tempered by affection.

"I can't help it when I have to make myself look this handsome," Zerro quipped with a playful smirk, his tone light and teasing as he took his seat at the table.

His father chuckled at the jest, the lines of worry etched into his aging features momentarily eased by his son's irreverent humor.

However, Zerro's brother, Erlik, remained stoic, his attention fixed on his meal as if determined to ignore the levity in the air. Sensing the tension, Zerro arched an eyebrow in silent inquiry, but ultimately chose to let the matter lie, focusing instead on the simple pleasure of breaking bread with his family.

As his father's announcement hung heavy in the air, Zerro's initial disbelief quickly gave way to a tumult of emotions. The morsel he had been chewing suddenly felt like lead in his mouth, and he reached hastily for the water, hoping to soothe the sudden tightness in his throat.

"Me?" he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper, his mind struggling to comprehend the weight of his father's words. He had always assumed that the mantle of kingship would inevitably fall upon his brother's shoulders, and the unexpected twist left him reeling.

But his father's gaze was unwavering, filled with a conviction that brooked no argument.

"Yes," the king affirmed, his voice steady with resolve. "I believe you possess the qualities necessary to lead our realm with wisdom and compassion."

The revelation sent shockwaves rippling through the room, but before the gravity of the moment could fully sink in, Erlik, unable to bear the weight of disappointment, rose abruptly from his seat and stormed out, his retreating figure a silent testament to the fractured bonds of brotherhood.

Zerro watched his brother's departure with a heavy heart, the echoes of his father's disappointment ringing in his ears like a mournful dirge. Suddenly, the food on his plate seemed unappetizing, the weight of his newfound responsibility pressing down upon him like a leaden cloak.

Slowly, he rose from his seat, his movements tentative and uncertain. As he met his father's gaze, he found himself engulfed in a maelstrom of doubt and uncertainty, his confidence shaken to its core.

Zerro's heart sank at the venom in his brother's words, the weight of their shared history pressing down upon him like a suffocating shroud. He had hoped to offer solace and reassurance, but Erlik's bitterness cut through his feeble attempts at reconciliation like a sharpened blade.

"I understand how you feel," Zerro murmured, his voice heavy with regret. "But I promise, I'll do everything in my power to make things right."

But his brother's anger was unyielding, his resentment a barrier that seemed insurmountable.

"You know he won't change his mind. It's always been like this because he favors you the most," Erlik spat, his words laced with a bitterness that struck Zerro to his core.

The accusation hung heavy in the air, a painful reminder of the fractures that had long plagued their relationship. Despite his best intentions, Zerro found himself at a loss, his attempts at reconciliation falling on deaf ears.

Gazing into his brother's eyes, clouded with anger and resentment, Zerro felt the weight of their shared history pressing down upon him like an unyielding burden. In that moment, he knew that the road ahead would be fraught with challenges, and the bonds of brotherhood strained to their breaking point.

"W-What-" Zerro stammered.

"Don't act dumb. You know it too!" Erlik hissed, his voice dripping with venom, causing Zerro to fall silent.

Deciding it was best to retreat, Zerro left, aware that further words would only stoke his brother's anger.

As he walked, he encountered his butler, who promptly informed him of his schedule for the day. Among the appointments was a meeting with the royal adviser, a reminder of his impending role as the future king.

Zerro felt a wave of reluctance wash over him; he longed to hide away in his room, burying himself in blankets to avoid the weight of his future. But such escapism was not an option for someone destined for the throne.

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Zerro had met with the royal adviser earlier, receiving a stern admonition about the necessity of confidence if he intended to ascend to the throne.

Now, he sat alone on a bench in his garden, his gaze fixed on the tranquil scenery before him.

"I don't even want to," he muttered, his frustration palpable in his voice.

Erlik had spent his life meticulously preparing to assume the role of king, making Zerro feel an overwhelming sense of guilt for being chosen instead. Why him, when Erlik was the epitome of perfection for the position?

Yet, amidst his turmoil, a flicker of realization stirred within him. If he possessed the authority to rule over the demon realm, it meant he held the power to fulfill the promise he had made to his two friends—one human, the other an angel.

As Zerro gazed up at the crimson sky, his thoughts drifted to his friends, Rina and Andrew.

Their union had been a testament to destiny, brought together by fate's design.

Rina, a skilled weapon contractor, and Andrew, her celestial counterpart, bound by a contract that blossomed into a love that transcended their respective realms.

"Merging the realms would bring them happiness," he murmured, the weight of his words heavy in the air.

Their story began amidst duty and obligation, tasked with a mission to apprehend fleeing demons and return them to the kingdom.

Zerro had been a silent observer at the king's side, witnessing the unfolding events that would intertwine their fates.

Yet, despite the circumstances, friendship had bloomed into something deeper, leading to the birth of their child—a detail he realized he hadn't yet learned, a reminder of the gaps in his understanding of their lives.

Zerro released a sigh and soon decided to head back inside, wanting to rest in his room for a bit.

As Zerro stepped inside, an unsettling chill crept down his spine, causing him to shiver involuntarily.

"Something's not right," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

The eerie silence enveloped the palace, a stark contrast to the usual bustling activity of the afternoon. Where had everyone disappeared to in such a short span of time?

With cautious steps, Zerro made his way towards his father's chamber, a foreboding sense of dread gnawing at his insides. As he pushed open the doors, his worst fears were realized in the sight before him.

"F-Father?" he gasped, his voice trembling with shock as he beheld the lifeless form of the king.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he rushed forward, falling to his knees beside the king's body. His hands reached out, trembling as they made contact with the cold, unmoving flesh.

Desperation and disbelief mingled in his heart as he shook his father's shoulders, hoping against hope for any sign of life.

"Father... Father, wake up!" Zerro's desperate cry echoed through the chamber, his voice thick with anguish.

Unbeknownst to him in that moment, he had unwittingly walked into a trap.

"Z-Zerro? What did you do?" The accusing voice cut through the air, and Zerro's heart sank as he turned to see Erlik, flanked by a group of house workers, their expressions a mix of fear and accusation.

"It wasn't me, I swear—" Zerro began, but his protest was drowned out by his brother's furious accusation.

"You monster!" Erlik's accusation pierced through him, freezing Zerro in place.

As the workers scattered, likely to spread news of the tragedy, Erlik remained, his gaze fixed on Zerro with a mixture of contempt and satisfaction.

"You know what you will become now that you have done this," Erlik sneered, the realization dawning on Zerro as the truth unfolded before him.

A sense of speechlessness enveloped Zerro as he beheld the smirk on Erlik's face, understanding now that his own brother was the architect of their father's demise.

"A traitor," Erlik declared, sealing Zerro's fate with those damning words.