Inside a dimly lit room, a tall man sat cross-legged, eyes closed.
He wore a black cloak, and two lines of black paint stretched backward across his cheeks.
His face was far from handsome, yet his presence made anyone uneasy in his company.
He was Rovert Castellan, head of the Castellan family. Unlike his usual glamorous appearance, he now resembled more of a mage than a nobleman.
Beneath him, the floor bore a star-shaped symbol that extended across the entire room. Rovert sat at its center, as if performing a ritual.
"Huh… completely useless," he muttered, opening his eyes. "That demon died at the hands of an outsider. How annoying…"
A flicker of hatred and irritation crossed his pupils. That demon was the sole success of years of experimentation—a survivor unlike any other.
Its strength had far exceeded that of an ordinary demon, and Rovert had hoped it could annihilate the Valmire family's soldiers. But those hopes had been in vain.
