Far away from the snowy mountains, the air burned dry and thick, it was the polar opposite.
Scorching heat and molten lava hissed whilst flowing from the broken cracks in the mountains of Nox'Varyn.
A colossal gothic dark castle stood on the mountain top, it was like an abundance of light.
One could say it was like the abyss itself.
Inside the castle, in a strange room decorated with human skulls and weapons, a maid stood in the doorway, where the air smelled of dried blood.
"Young master Vesselius, please behave properly in front of his majesty," A delicate looking young lady spoke to the tall boy in front of him.
"Yes, yes, Gertrude. I get it." The boy completely ignored her request as the other maids were dressing him.
Vesselius looked in the mirror in front of him, his skin a light purple lavender, his hair dark as a black hole, his eyes a color similar to his hair, and a pair of dark horns on his forehead.
That was the only way you could differentiate these demons from humans. Their skin and their indistinguishable horns. Oh, and their extremely hot temperatures.
They were putting Vesselus in a tight, formal outfit, which wasn't exactly to his liking, as it compressed his airways. The fabric was so tight that it made breathing subtly difficult, though it was manageable.
'Always the fucking formality.'
He shook his head as the aura in the room suddenly shifted and became warm, not just your regular room temperature warm, but even warmer than it was before. It was almost scorching.
"I see they are making you ready," said a deep, delightful voice from behind Vesselus, which instantly made his spine freeze despite the temperature.
The maids instantly stopped what they were doing and bowed down to the person behind him.
Even Gertrude bowed down, her entire body shaking.
"Azrael, please withdraw your pressure, you are making my maids…die of fear," Vesselus chuckled awkwardly as he turned around to face the man.
He seemed to be in his early twenties in human years, however he was hundreds of years old.
Red hair cascaded down all the way to his shoulders, two gigantic horns pointed upward on his forehead like swords.
He wore a formal golden attire with white engravings.
And his most disturbing feature, his dark eyes, which contained red slits, stared at Vesselus.
As Vesselus met his gaze, his throat instantly tightened.
"I apologize, young master Vesselus." The pressure in the room instantly decreased, and the room returned to its regular temperature.
"As a pillar, you should control your emotions better…" Vesselus sighed as he signaled for his maids to leave.
All of them quickly stood up and left. Gertrude stood in the doorway and bowed a final time before taking a leave as well.
Azrael watched the maids leave, then turned towards Vesselus, his dark slit eyes tracing his entire figure in milliseconds.
"I tend to forget you use futile creatures such as maids, young master," he said as he took a seat, and despite him being seated, he was still taller than Vesselus standing.
"As the young master of the Vraeknor family, you are already used to this much, however, your maids are…" he squeezed his own hand, which made Vesselus bat an eye.
"Different." Azrael smiled weirdly, making his split tongue visible as he flicked it, he was like a human serpent.
However, as a pillar, many did not dare to make fun of his features.
"Your father made it clear that you must become the strongest apostle—"
"Yes, yes, I understand."
Vesselus interrupted as he had already grown tired of hearing this whole apostle thing.
'Who even decided that I am one..?'
Ever since he could remember, he was treated differently from his siblings, he was trained more, favored more, and he even became the heir of the Vraeknor family despite his older brother, Lazar Vraeknor, being way stronger than him.
All because of some apostle thing that he barely knew anything about.
"I don't think you do, young master." Azrael's smile disappeared completely as the pressure in the room increased.
"Your father is an apex pillar, feared by many and rivaled by only a handful of others," Vesselus's smile faded, but his expression didn't change, he couldn't show fear, despite the person in front of him.
Even if he was a pillar, his pressure was nothing compared to his father's.
"And…if I fail to make you the strongest, I will be executed as well," he sank back into the chair with a defeated expression which made Vesselus sigh.
"I will not let your teachings go to waste, Azrael. You're worried about the wrong things," he shook his head and turned back to the mirror.
'It's not like I can lose,' he chuckled slightly as he looked at the sword above the mirror, which made Azrael tilt his head slightly.
The sword was pitch black, known as the Devourer amongst the demon race.
His father, Kazar Vraeknor, had used it when he became the king of demons, however, after becoming an apex pillar, he had no use for it, so it was handed to the heir, who rightfully became its owner.
"Azrael, tell me," Vesselus turned back whilst straightening his shirt, which made Azrael raise an eyebrow out of curiosity.
"Do we have any information on the other apostles?" His question made Azrael smile, however, all he could do was shake his head.
"No, even your father lacks knowledge of any of the other nine apostles," his reply wasn't exactly satisfactory for Vesselus, however, he nodded still, acknowledging the answer.
"Then I guess, fate shall guide me until I defeat all of them," Vesselus said, laughing maniacally, which made Azrael smile with pure pleasure.
However, a light knock on the door stopped the laughter as both of them turned towards the sounds.
Gertrude peeked inside, her green hair brushing against the bottom of the door.
"Y-Young Master, your father wishes to see you now…" Her words were shaky as Azrael and Vesselus looked at each other and nodded.
They both straightened their backs and their attire, then walked out of the room without a word, leaving Gertrude with a surprised expression.
'I'm excited for what the future holds.' He thought as they walked down the dark corridors of the abyssal castle.