Discovery

With nothing and no one left to care for, Alexander found solace in the one place untouched by the rest of his clan—the library.

A vast, dust-covered sanctuary, abandoned by those who saw no value in knowledge. The adults had already read what they deemed important, and the spoiled princess had no interest in books when she could simply have others do the thinking for her.

For Alexander, however, the library was a world waiting to be conquered.

Within its countless pages, he found secrets, histories, theories, and magic beyond imagination. He devoured knowledge at a speed that would have shocked the Underworld itself.

Because unknown to anyone but himself… Alexander was a genius.

If the Underworld ever discovered the truth, if the great Satans ever realized the depth of his intelligence, he would be recognized as one of the smartest devils in existence—on par with Ajuka Beelzebub himself.

His learning speed was unnatural, his comprehension ethereal. Concepts that took others decades to grasp, he mastered in mere days. Equations, enchantments, battle strategies—everything he read, he understood and improved upon.

And while he may have been denied the Power of Destruction, he was not powerless.

Flowing through his veins was the magic of the Lucifuge—a heritage of ice and frost, of frozen storms that could seal even the strongest foes.

But fate was cruel.

His demonic power was too low to use it properly. Even freezing a simple glass of water drained nearly a quarter of his mana. A spell that would be effortless for another Lucifuge nearly exhausted him.

But Alexander did not despair.

He would find a way.

In his relentless pursuit of knowledge, Alexander discovered a crucial truth—meditation could enhance one's control over magic.

Through the unification of will, soul, and body, one could refine their spells, reducing wasted energy and maximizing efficiency.

For most devils, control was secondary to raw power—but for Alexander, it was everything.

If he could sharpen his control to perfection, if he could minimize the mana cost of his spells, then perhaps… he could wield his Lucifuge heritage without being crippled by his lack of demonic power.

And so, he began to meditate.

At first, it was difficult. His mind, once filled with longing for love and acceptance, was restless. But as the days turned to weeks, and the weeks to months, he found clarity in the silence.

With each session, his connection to his magic deepened. He could feel the mana flowing through him, the cold frost lingering beneath his skin, waiting to be shaped by his will.

His progress was slow, but he did not stop.

Because Alexander never stopped.

One day, while meditating in his room, Alexander stumbled upon a revelation that would change everything.

As his consciousness drifted deeper into his mindscape, he found himself standing in an endless void, a space that was both infinite and confined.

And at the very center of it all, he saw it.

A sky-blue orb, pulsing faintly like a dying star—his demonic core. But something was wrong.

It was not free.

It was bound—ensnared by thousands of chains that wrapped around it like a prison, each link pulsating with an eerie glow, sinking deep into the fabric of his very soul.

The sight alone sent a shiver through him, and yet… he understood immediately.

This was a curse.

A restriction, placed upon him without his knowledge. A binding that stole from him, that drained his power, that kept him weak.

And for the first time in years, Alexander felt something stir within him.

Not sadness. Not longing.

Rage.

All he could think was—how?

How could they not notice?

How could his parents, his family—one of the most powerful clans in the Underworld—fail to see this?

Sirzechs Lucifer, the Crimson Satan. Grayfia Lucifuge, the Strongest Queen. Did they never think to check why their son—their own flesh and blood—was so weak?

Was he so beneath their notice that they did not even bother to look?

Or did they simply not care?

The chains pulsed, tightening as if mocking his rage. Stealing from him. Weakening him. Cursing him to mediocrity.

Alexander dove deeper.

With each step into his mindscape, the chains became clearer, their presence more suffocating. Why was it draining him? Why was it linked to his very soul?

He searched, analyzed, unraveled the mystery layer by layer—until he found it.

His eyes.

The curse had ravaged them beyond repair, so much so that by all logic, he should be blind. Yet, he wasn't.

Because the curse was more than just a shackle—it was a parasite.

Rather than leaving him crippled, it had devised a crueler fate. It constantly drained his demonic power, forcing his body to heal his eyes over and over again. An endless cycle, a perfect illusion—one designed to prevent the curse from being discover.

That was why his demonic power production was so abysmally low despite his vast reserves. The curse was feeding on him.

A realization settled over him, cold and absolute.

This thing—this parasite—had been consuming him since the day he was born.

On that day, as he stood before the bound core of his very being, Alexander made a vow.

He would rip this curse from his soul.

No matter the cost.