Ronan refused to return to school for over a month.
He couldn't.
The moment he even thought about those gates… the memories came rushing back. The field. The laughter. The blood.
So he stayed locked in his room.
Days passed in silence. He barely spoke. Barely moved. The only time he stepped out was to eat—and even then, he avoided everyone.
Training stopped.
Routine stopped.
Everything stopped.
Grief consumed him.
And beneath it… something darker began to grow.
Anger.
Quiet. Heavy. Dangerous.
Somewhere in that silence, Ronan made a vow—
Every demon he ever encountered… he would kill.
The only people he allowed near him were his father and his master. To everyone else, he became unreachable.
The Presence
One evening, as the sun dipped low and painted the palace in gold, Ronan walked the corridors alone.
He didn't know why he was walking.
Maybe he just needed air.
Maybe he just needed to feel something.
He was heading toward the courtyard fountain when—
He stopped.
Something was wrong.
A presence.
Heavy. Suffocating.
Nothing like the creatures from before.
This was stronger.
Far more dangerous.
Then—
He saw it.
A demon.
A Fiend.
Standing in the shadows.
Watching.
Waiting.
Ahead of it—
His mother.
Draven.
Unaware.
Ronan's eyes widened.
"MOTHER! DRAVEN!"
They turned—
Just as the demon lunged.
The attack barely missed them, tearing through the air where they had stood.
They stumbled back in shock.
"A demon… in the palace?" the Queen whispered, her voice shaking.
Impossible.
It had never happened before.
But then—
Her eyes shifted to Ronan.
And something darker filled them.
This is because of him…
She said nothing.
She grabbed Draven.
And ran.
The demon didn't follow.
It turned.
Toward Ronan.
It had sensed it.
The darkness within him.
The Awakening
Ronan didn't move.
Didn't run.
Didn't hesitate.
His body trembled—
Not from fear.
From rage.
"You took them from me…"
His voice shook.
"You took everything…"
The air around him grew hotter.
A faint glow formed in his eye—
Then—
A pentagram ignited within his right iris.
And in the next second—
He vanished.
He slammed into the demon with a punch so powerful it sent the creature flying through the hallway.
It crashed violently, tearing through stone.
Ronan chased it.
No hesitation.
No restraint.
His fists struck again and again—each blow stronger than the last.
Heat poured from his body.
Steam rose from his skin.
His clothes began to burn.
His voice broke into a roar.
Then—
Fire ignited in his hand.
A massive, blazing sphere of destruction.
"DIE!"
He drove it into the demon's chest.
BOOM.
The hallway shook.
Walls cracked.
The demon slammed into the far end, its body shattered—but still alive.
Loss of Control
Hunters arrived moments later.
They froze at the sight.
Ronan—
Still attacking.
Still raging.
Unstoppable.
One elite huntress rushed forward to stop him—
Ronan turned instantly.
And struck.
A flaming punch slammed into her guard, sending her flying across the hall.
"Ronan, stop!" someone shouted.
But he couldn't hear them.
His world was drowned in rage.
Then—
A voice cut through it.
"RONAN!"
His mother.
He turned.
And saw her.
Not relief.
Not gratitude.
Fear.
Pure fear.
Draven stood behind her—
Frozen.
Terrified.
Of him.
Ronan's breath caught.
His body stilled.
For the first time—
He saw himself.
Reflected in the shattered marble.
That eye.
That symbol.
That power.
The same thing his master warned him about.
His fists dropped.
"I… I'm sorry…"
Tears fell freely now.
"I didn't mean to…"
The fire faded.
The pentagram dimmed.
The rage… disappeared.
And all that remained—
Was a broken boy.
The Hunters restrained him.
He didn't fight back.
The Judgment
He was taken.
Locked away in a reinforced cell.
Bound in enchanted chains.
Not as a prince.
But as a threat.
Back at the palace—
The King was furious.
"He saved you!" he roared.
"He protected his family—and this is how you repay him?!"
But the Hunter Association didn't budge.
"He's unstable."
"He's dangerous."
"We've seen this before."
Some demanded execution.
Others agreed.
But the Queen—
Stayed silent.
She remembered everything.
His warning.
His scream.
The way he ran toward danger.
He had saved them.
He saved us…
But still—
She said nothing.
The Decision
Then the King stood.
"I know what you all think," he said.
"But that boy is my son."
Silence.
"He is not a monster. He is a child… overwhelmed by power he does not understand."
He paused.
"He will not be executed."
Some objected.
He silenced them.
"He will be watched. Guarded. Monitored."
Then his voice lowered.
"And… I've made other arrangements."
A New Path
Three days later—
A man arrived from Japan.
An old ally.
Calm. Sharp. Watching everything.
The King met him privately.
"Take him," he said.
"Give him a new life."
"A new name."
"Train him. Guide him."
"And if that power ever consumes him…"
The man nodded.
"I understand."
Farewell
The day before Ronan left—
His master came to see him.
They stood in silence for a while.
"I know you're hurting," the master said.
"And you will be… for a long time."
"But you're not alone."
He whistled.
A small dog ran toward them—energetic, bright-eyed.
Ronan knelt slowly.
The dog looked at him.
No fear.
No judgment.
Just warmth.
For the first time in weeks—
Ronan smiled.
"I'll call him Elucan."
His master raised an eyebrow.
"Elucan?"
Ronan looked down at the dog.
"Elias… and Lucan."
A quiet pause.
Then—
A soft smile.
The End of One Life
The next morning—
Ronan left England.
No crown.
No title.
No family.
Just a boy…
With fire in his blood.
Pain in his heart.
And a new path ahead.