"Your swordsmanship is magnificent as always, Your Highness."
Lucian Morningstar stood at the center of the black stone arena, his silver hair moving softly in the warm wind of Hell. A thin practice sword rested in his right hand, his coat was untouched, and with a breathing that remained calm. If not for the faint line carved across the ground behind him, no one would have guessed that he had just crossed the entire field in a single step.
Across from him, Samael lowered his blade.
The Sin of Wrath looked like a man built for war. Tall, broad-shouldered, and scarred in places even Hellfire had failed to erase. His black suit was cut like noble wear, but the pressure around him belonged to a battlefield. Every demon in Hell knew that when Samael smiled during training, someone was about to suffer.
Lucian smiled back with the quiet elegance expected from the prince of Hell.
"You flatter me, Uncle," he said. "Your swordsmanship is still far superior to mine."
Samael stared at him for a moment. Then he threw his head back and laughed.
"GUAHAHAHA!"
The sound rolled across the training field like thunder. Several young demons flinched. A few instructors lowered their heads, hiding their smiles.
Samael pointed his sword at Lucian, the edge still smoking from their last exchange.
"You flatter this old man too much, Your Highness." He turned his sword once in his hand, the edge catching the crimson light above. "I have honed my blade for longer than most kingdoms have existed, yet you managed to learn all of it in a few months."
Lucian shrugged and chuckled. "Then that only means you are a good teacher, Uncle."
For a second, Samael went quiet before his grin widened.
"As expected of that man's descendant," he said, eyes bright with amusement. "What a silver tongue you possess."
Lucian tilted his head slightly. "I was only speaking the truth."
"Worse." Samael laughed again, louder this time. "You make that sound like praise. That is far more dangerous."
He only smiled.
Before they could continue their spar, footsteps hurried toward the training field.
"Your Highness," a young demon servant called from the edge of the field. "His Majesty requests your presence in the lower court."
Lucian turned.
The servant immediately lowered his head, hands trembling around the folded message.
"Maren," Lucian said.
The servant froze. No prince should have remembered his name.
Lucian sheathed his sword. "Is your sister recovering?"
Maren's eyes widened. "Y-yes, Your Highness. The healer you sent came last night."
"Good." Lucian walked past him, calm as ever. "Tell her not to return to work until she can stand without shaking."
Behind him, the training field remained silent and Samael smiled faintly. That was why Hell loved its prince.
To the nobles, Lucian was a perfect heir. Elegant, calm, terrifyingly talented, and beautiful enough to remind the older demons of the king in his youth. He spoke like someone raised beneath a crown, moved like every step had been measured, and smiled with the kind of grace that made enemies forget they were being led into a trap.
To the soldiers, he was the prince who learned their names.
To the servants, he was the child who noticed every single of their presence.
To the common demons of Hell, he was something stranger. A royal who looked down from the throne and still saw them.
Kings ruled, nobles commanded, the powerful took what they wanted and called it order.
Lucian did not. He remembered debts, rewarded loyalty, and punished cruelty when it hid behind rank. He never raised his voice when a quiet word would cut deeper. perhaps that was the most dangerous thing about him.
Samael watched the young prince walk away with the message folded neatly in his hand. The old demon's smile lingered for a moment before fading into something quieter.
"Just like his father," he muttered.
Then his eyes narrowed slightly.
"No," Samael corrected himself. "Worse."
.
.
.
Knock! Knock!
Lucian stopped before the dark wooden door and straightened his coat. "Father?"
For a moment, there was only silence. Then a voice came from inside the room.
"Enter."
Lucian opened the door and stepped inside.
His father sat behind a wide black desk, one hand resting over a stack of reports, the other holding a glass of dark wine. He looked like a man in his early middle years, but age had never touched him the way it touched mortals. It only made him sharper and refined.
His eyes lifted from the report.
Lucifer smiled. "Lucian."
Lucian bowed with flawless grace. "Father."
Lucifer leaned back in his chair, still watching him.
"I heard you interrupted Samael's lesson."
Lucian blinked once. "He interrupted mine first."
The corner of Lucifer's mouth rose. "Did he?"
"He praised me," Lucian said calmly. "That was clearly meant to disturb my focus."
Lucifer stared at him for a second, then he laughed softly.
"How is the academy?"
"The same as always," Lucian said.
"That tells me very little."
"It is meant to."
Lucifer's smile deepened by a fraction.
Lucian stood before the desk with his hands behind his back, posture flawless, face calm. To most people, he would have looked perfectly composed.
"You are dissatisfied," he said.
Lucian did not deny it.
For a moment, he looked toward the window. Beyond the glass, Hell stretched endlessly beneath a red-gold sky. Towers rose from black stone. Rivers of fire cut through the city like veins. Somewhere far below, demons moved through the streets of the capital, living beneath the throne that would one day be his.
"I feel like I have reached a wall," Lucian said at last.
Lucifer leaned back. "A wall?"
"My swordsmanship improves, but not enough. My control improves, but not enough. My magic expands, but it lacks depth." Lucian's fingers tightened slightly behind his back. "Everything advances, but nothing breaks through."
He turned back to his father.
"It is irritating."
Lucifer watched him, then he smiled. "Perfect."
Lucian blinked once. That was the only sign of surprise he allowed himself.
"Perfect?" he repeated.
"Yes." Lucifer placed the report down. "A prince who never reaches a wall is either lying to himself or being taught by fools."
Lucian said nothing.
"You have built a proper foundation," Lucifer said. "Samael has polished your blade. The academy has sharpened your discipline. The Sins have each carved something useful into you."
His eyes settled on Lucian. "Now it is my turn."
Lucian's expression shifted. But his eyes brightened.
Lucifer noticed, of course. He always noticed every single detail of his son.
"You will train me personally?" Lucian asked.
"For now."
Lucian's smile appeared slowly.
Lucifer sighed. "There it is."
"What?"
"That look."
Lucian's smile did not fade. "I have no idea what you mean."
"You look like a starving man who just found a kingdom made of bread."
"That is a strange comparison."
"It is accurate."
Then Lucifer walked back to his desk and picked up another sealed letter.
"There is also someone coming."
Lucian tilted his head. "Someone?"
"An annoying man."
Lucifer broke the seal with one finger. "Solomon."
The name landed in the room like a spell. "The King of Magic," he added.
Lucian's eyes sharpened. For the first time since entering the room, Lucian looked openly interested.
"Solomon is coming here?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Lucifer glanced at the letter. "He lost a bet."
Lucian paused. "A bet?"
"With someone who enjoys making troublesome arrangements."
Lucian understood enough not to ask immediately.
His mind was already moving. Solomon. The king who once commanded demons. Well, a more accurate word would be 'stealing' some of his kind. The master of names, seals, contracts, and old magic. A human who had once forced beings far older than kingdoms to obey him.
A man like that was not merely a mage.
Lucifer looked at him over the letter.
"No."
Lucian's gaze returned to him. "I have not said anything."
"You were about to."
"I was thinking."
"Loudly."
Lucian smiled faintly. "I only wished to ask for a few pointers."
"From Solomon."
"Yes."
"The King of Magic."
"Yes."
"The man who once annoyed Hell so thoroughly that three Dukes still refuse to say his name without cursing."
Lucian's smile grew more polite.
"Then he must be impressive."
Lucifer stared at him.
Then he laughed softly.
"You truly are my son."
Lucian lowered his head slightly. "I will take that as praise."
"It was a warning."
Lucifer placed the letter down.
"When Solomon arrives, watch your manners."
Lucian looked almost offended. "My manners are flawless."
"Yes," Lucifer said. "That is why I am warning you."
Lucian was silent for a moment. Then he asked, very calmly, "Am I not allowed to ask him to teach me?"
"You may ask."
Lucian's eyes brightened again.
Lucifer raised one finger.
"Politely."
Lucian's expression became innocent.
That made Lucifer narrow his eyes. "And do not manipulate him."
"I would never."
"Lucian."
The prince smiled. "Not obviously."
Lucifer sighed. Then his gaze lingered on Lucian for a moment longer.
"You are already fifteen."
Lucian paused.
"That sounded like an accusation."
"It is an observation."
"With you, Father, those are often the same thing."
Lucifer smiled faintly. "Good, you are listening."
Lucian said nothing, but the slight narrowing of his eyes said enough.
Lucifer leaned back in his chair. "Have you thought about engagement?"
The question landed softly.
Lucian stared at him. "Engagement?"
"Yes."
"I am fifteen."
"And the most sought-after young man in this realm~"
Lucian's expression did not change. That was the problem. If anything, his calm made Lucifer look more amused.
"Do not look at me like that," Lucifer said. "You know it is true."
"I know many people are foolish."
"Foolish, ambitious, loyal, obsessed, politically motivated, or all of the above." Lucifer tapped one finger against the desk. "The daughters of the great houses have not been subtle."
Lucian's expression remained calm.
Lucifer raised an eyebrow. "Do not pretend you have not noticed."
"I noticed."
"Good. I was beginning to fear you were dense."
Lucian looked mildly offended. "I am many things, Father. Dense is not one of them."
"No," Lucifer said, amused. "You are worse. You notice everything and act as if it is beneath your concern."
Lucifer leaned back in his chair. "You know those girls are waiting for you to accept them, don't you?"
The study went quiet. Lucian's mind moved immediately.
Seraphina Samael or Sephy, as Lucian called her, though she had once threatened to break the jaw of anyone else who tried. Not him though. She had been at his side since they were children, all fire and pride, turning every spar into a war she swore she would win one day.
Belia Beelzebub came next. Bel, soft-voiced and sweet-smiling, always appearing after training with food in her hands and something terrifyingly alive on the plate. She looked harmless until someone tried to take Lucian's attention away from her.
Selene Leviathan came last. Quiet, elegant, and sharp-eyed. She rarely raised her voice, but Lucian had learned long ago that silence from Selene was never empty. She noticed too much, remembered too much, and watched him intensely all the time that make him shiver just by remembering it.
Lucian sighed softly.
"I will think about it later."
Lucifer raised an eyebrow. "Later?"
"I have training."
"Of course."
"And Solomon is coming."
"Yes, yes. The annoying man."
Lucian's eyes sharpened again.
Lucifer looked at him and sighed for the second time.
"There it is again."
"What?"
"That look."
"I am merely interested."
"You look less interested and more like you have found a new blade to sharpen yourself against."
Lucian smiled.
Lucifer pointed at him.
"Do not use Solomon as an excuse to avoid courtship forever."
"I would never."
"Lucian."
The prince's smile remained flawless. "Not forever."