From the towering heights of Ravenwood Mansion, an ancient spire stretched into the sky as if defying the very laws of the world.
On its tenth floor, an old man sat by a window, his long white beard cascading down his chest like a river of time.
He sipped tea with an air of detached serenity, the cup's fine aroma the only indulgence he still allowed himself.
Around him, the air itself seemed to recoil—no breath of wind, no whisper of oxygen, as though existence feared to disturb him.
Particles of black mana swirled like shadowy motes, clinging to his aged robes.
His eyes, devoid of warmth or pity, fixed upon a lone figure below—a young man with jet-black hair.
So, it's finally happening...
The boy was a Ravenwood—yet he bore no mana.
In a family of gods, such an existence was a sin punishable by death.
And yet, he lived.
Not out of loved or luck, but because of one man stubbornness.
His stubborn master...
The old man had watched over him, not out of compassion, but because his lord had commanded it.
He didn't understand why.
The boy was worthless—a stain upon the Ravenwood name.
Even the current head despised him, From the moment he was born his fate had been sealed...
But the old man could not let him die.
Not because he cared.
Not because the boy mattered.
But because his lord had ordered it.
"Why?"
The question gnawed at him for years.
The Ravenwood heir, the young lady, was a prodigy—her talent eclipsing even her parents'.
She was the future of the Ravenwood.
And yet, his lord's attention remained fixed on this… Fool.
Sigh~
A sigh escaped his lips, and the world trembled in response.
"Alya."
Before he can even finish his sentence...
A shadow coalesced before him—a figure clad in black robes, a blue raven mask obscuring her face.
She knelt, silent, obedient.
His expression softened imperceptibly, an uncharacteristic warmth seeping into his voice.
"That boy—follow him. Ensure he... breathes."
His words carried hidden meaning.
And she understand what he meant by those words...
She was not to interfere unless his life was in danger.
"Understood, my lord."
As she turned to leave, he spoke again, his gaze avoiding hers.
"This task is beneath your skill, child—but... I will not permit a single misstep. That boy must not die. No matter what happens, you will keep him alive… even if it costs you your life. Do this, and the reward will find you in time."
A faint quiver in her stance betrayed her suppressed smile before she vanished into the dark.
The old man's emotions drained away once more, leaving only hollow duty.
Then—something unexpected happened.
As the boy took his first step beyond the mansion's gates, the skies darkened.
As the boy took his first step beyond the mansion's gates, the skies darkened.
A shroud of black mist began to gather around the estate, thick and slow, like a living thing drawn by fate.
The air turned cold, heavy with an ominous energy that pulsed through the stones and soil.
His eyes narrowed. A deep frown formed on his weathered face.
This was a sign.
A sign of...
A bad omen.
Unknowingly, his eyes widened—just slightly—as the emotionless mask he wore cracked for the briefest moment. Shock. Bewilderment. A flicker of something he hadn't felt in years.
His gaze drifted toward the boy, whose figure was already growing smaller, step by step, slipping further into the distance.
As he watched the boy walk away, a single name escaped his lips like a whisper of doom:
"Grey Ravenwood..."