Night still clung to the world when Corin realized something was wrong.
The corridor had been empty a moment ago.
Now the air felt… tight.
He paused beside a marble column, listening. The manor of Lord Veynar slept in a tense silence, broken only by the distant crackle of hearth fires and the faint rattle of a loose window somewhere far above.
Then he heard it.
Footsteps.
Not the careless wandering of a servant.
Measured. Slow. Deliberate.
Corin's pulse spiked. He glanced toward the stairwell he had just passed. At the end of the hallway, faint blue light flickered across the walls.
A rune.
It had not been glowing before.
"Damn it…" Corin whispered.
The ward had sensed him.
The blue sigil etched into the stone brightened, lines crawling outward like veins of lightning. A magical detection glyph, subtle enough to avoid notice, deadly enough to betray any intruder foolish enough to step within its range.
And Corin was standing right in it.
The footsteps quickened.
A voice echoed faintly around the corner.
"Strange… the ward reacted."
A mage.
Corin cursed under his breath. If he moved now, the rune would flare brighter. If he stayed still, the mage would turn the corner in seconds.
He had nowhere to go.
Then the shadows beside him shifted.
No sound.
No warning.
Belphegor simply appeared.
The demon prince stood as if he had always been there, his dark cloak blending seamlessly with the corridor's dim light. His eyes moved once toward the glowing rune, then toward the approaching footsteps.
He sighed softly.
"Humans," Belphegor murmured. "Always so fond of their little alarms."
Corin whispered urgently. "We need to go."
Belphegor ignored him.
Instead, he raised one finger.
The glowing rune flickered.
Just once.
For a brief moment, the blue light twisted, as if the magic itself had blinked.
Then the symbol dimmed.
At the far end of the corridor, the approaching mage suddenly stopped.
Corin heard the rustle of robes.
"Hm."
The mage turned in the opposite direction.
"Must have been interference from the lower wards."
His footsteps faded away.
Silence returned.
Corin exhaled slowly, realizing only now how tight his chest had been.
"That was too close," he said.
Belphegor studied the rune with mild curiosity.
"Yes," he agreed.
Then he turned his gaze toward Corin.
"You should leave."
Corin blinked.
"What?"
"You heard me."
"But the others…"
"Are waiting for information," Belphegor finished calmly. "Which you now have."
Corin shook his head. "No. The plan was to scout together and return at dawn."
Belphegor's expression barely changed.
"That plan assumed this manor was poorly defended."
He gestured lightly toward the dim corridor.
"It is not."
Corin followed his gaze.
Hidden runes.
Subtle magical currents flowing through the walls.
Guards stationed farther down the hall than any ordinary noble house would require.
Lord Veynar's manor was a fortress.
Belphegor looked back at him.
"Return to the others," he said. "Tell them what you've seen. Adjust the plan."
Corin frowned. "And you?"
Belphegor's lips curved faintly.
"I'll stretch my legs."
Corin stared at him.
"You're staying."
"Yes."
"That's insane."
Belphegor tilted his head slightly.
"Perhaps."
Corin lowered his voice.
"This place is crawling with wards and mages. Even you could be caught if…"
Belphegor's eyes glinted faintly in the darkness.
"Caught?"
For a brief moment, the air around him felt wrong. Heavy.
Then the feeling vanished.
He gestured toward the stairwell.
"Go, Corin."
The man hesitated.
"But…"
"Your team will need a plan," Belphegor said. "And someone must deliver the information."
Corin looked down the hallway once more, uneasy.
"You'll meet us outside?"
Belphegor's smile deepened just slightly.
"I'll find you."
Corin exhaled.
"Fine. But if you die in here, I'm telling the others it was your idea."
Belphegor chuckled quietly.
"Run along."
Corin disappeared down the stairwell moments later, moving quickly but carefully through the shadows.
Soon even his footsteps faded.
The manor fell silent once more.
Belphegor stood alone in the corridor.
For several seconds, he didn't move.
Then he turned his head slightly.
His gaze drifted toward a narrow hallway that curved deeper into the manor, a passage Corin had not noticed.
A faint scent lingered there.
Old.
Burned.
Familiar.
Belphegor's eyes narrowed.
"That," he murmured softly, "should not be here."
He walked toward the passage.
The deeper he went, the colder the air became.
The stone walls changed too, smoother, darker, older than the rest of the manor.
At the end of the hallway stood a heavy iron door.
No guards.
No torches.
Just a single symbol carved into the metal.
Belphegor stopped.
For the first time that night, surprise flickered across his face.
The symbol was ancient.
A sigil older than most human kingdoms.
A mark belonging not to men, but to Hell.
Belphegor touched the cold iron door lightly.
"Interesting," he whispered.
Behind the door, something stirred.
And far away, deep beneath the earth, an answering pulse of dark power echoed faintly through the unseen realms.
Belphegor smiled.
"So," he murmured, "Lord Veynar…"
"…what exactly are you hiding?"