Chapter 2: A Deal with the Darkness

The Night of Reckoning

The moon cast its silver glow over the palace, its light spilling through the towering windows like an unblinking eye. The halls, once bustling with nobles and servants, now lay in silence—cold, empty, and indifferent to the one who walked them.

The scent of damp stone lingered, mixing with the faint whisper of wind against ancient walls. It was a place that had cast me aside long ago.

But tonight, they would not forget me.

I moved like a shadow, my steps silent against the marble floor. Every flickering torch, every shifting patrol—I knew their rhythms. This was not my first time navigating these corridors.

But unlike the Kael Veylan of the past, I was not here to flee.

I was here to take what was mine.

Power.

And for that, I needed to reach the ruins buried beneath the palace.

---

The Path to the Seal

The pristine opulence of the palace gave way to something older—a concealed passage hidden behind layers of stone and time. The deeper I descended, the air grew heavier, thick with dust and whispers of forgotten ages.

At the heart of the ruins, it waited.

A towering archway, its crumbling edges entwined with vines like skeletal fingers grasping for something long lost. Runes, their meanings twisted by time, pulsed faintly across the surface, each flickering symbol a remnant of power left behind.

I placed my palm against the cold stone. The moment my skin met its surface, something inside me stirred.

The Cursed Mark burned to life.

A sharp, searing pain lanced through my arm, crimson veins pulsing beneath my skin as if something ancient had awakened. My breath hitched. My vision blurred at the edges.

Then—

The ruins shuddered.

A tremor rolled through the ground, shaking dust from the ceiling as the runes flared brighter, their shifting patterns whispering a language I did not yet understand.

Then came the voice.

Low. Ancient. Amused.

"Who dares disturb my slumber?"

The weight of its presence pressed against me, suffocating, as though the air itself had turned to iron.

But I did not kneel.

"I do," I said, my voice steady.

Silence. Then, laughter—low and guttural, like rusted chains grinding against stone.

"Ah… a cursed one. How fitting."

From the darkness, something moved.

A massive clawed hand reached from the void, its talons curling like a predator tasting the scent of prey.

I stood my ground.

Weakness had no place here.

"Do you seek power?" The voice coiled through my thoughts.

I exhaled slowly.

"I seek survival."

A pause. Then the voice rumbled again.

"Then let us make a deal, little prince."

---

The Bargain of the Marked

From the abyss, a figure emerged.

It was neither human nor beast, but something far worse—a remnant of an age long buried, draped in robes that shifted like smoke.

It circled me, slow and deliberate, its presence an unsettling mix of curiosity and amusement.

"I can grant you strength," it murmured, voice like fractured echoes. "But power is never free."

I clenched my fists.

"I know the cost."

A hollow chuckle.

"Oh? Do you?"

The air crackled with unseen energy, thick with something ancient.

Then, it spoke again.

"The Mark you bear is no mere curse, little prince."

A chill ran through me.

"It is a key."

A key?

"Unlock it, and you will no longer be the weak prince they scorn. But beware..."

The air grew colder, pressing against me like unseen chains.

"Every power comes with a price."

I had always known this.

Yet, I did not waver.

"I accept."

The figure's presence deepened, shadows thickening around us as if the ruins themselves held their breath.

"Then let us begin."

---

The Awakening of the Mark

Pain struck like a blade.

Not just pain—agony.

The figure pressed its palm against my chest. The Cursed Mark ignited, raw power threading through my veins like molten fire.

Visions tore through my mind—

A battlefield drenched in crimson.

A throne wreathed in shadows, its ruler unseen.

Chains—cold, iron chains—coiling around me, dragging me into a void without end.

I gasped, dropping to my knees.

The Mark was awakening.

And it was hungry.

The figure loomed above me, voice a blade against my soul.

"Choose, little prince. Will you break… or will you rise?"

Through the agony, through the suffocating haze of power threatening to consume me, I forced a smirk.

"I will rise."

The shadows shuddered, almost delighted.

"Then take your first step… into the abyss."

A magic circle beneath me flared to life, searing crimson light flooding the chamber.

And in that moment—

Something changed.

A power long buried within me had begun to stir.

---

A New Dawn

Golden light filtered through the ruined chamber, its warmth a stark contrast to the lingering cold.

I opened my eyes.

The pain had faded.

The Mark no longer burned.

Instead, it pulsed—not with suffering, but with something far more intoxicating.

Strength.

I lifted my hand, watching as tendrils of dark energy curled around my fingertips, responding to my will. My heart pounded—not with fear, but exhilaration.

For the first time since awakening in this world… I felt alive.

The Royal Examination was today.

And this time—

I would not be the weakest.

They would remember my name.