Lord of Deception

The Imperial Palace was silent in the dead of night.

Yet, beneath its grand halls, in the depths of the Sanctum of the Divine, a storm was brewing.

The torches flickered weakly against the oppressive darkness. The air itself felt heavier—as if something unnatural stirred within the chamber's stone walls.

Before the grand altar of the Emperor's inner sanctum, Lucian Vancrest knelt.

The fallen hero.

The man who had once stood as the Empire's greatest sword… and had lost everything.

His silver hair clung to his face, damp with sweat. His breath was slow, measured. But within his chest, his heart pounded like a war drum.

He could feel it.

The change. The corruption. The power.

The Demon's Blood had seeped into his very bones, burning away his weakness, reforging him into something new. Something monstrous.

And yet… he still felt human.

His hands curled into fists. Did he still have control?

Footsteps echoed in the chamber.

Lucian lifted his gaze.

From the shadows, Emperor Castiel emerged.

He did not walk—he glided, his very presence warping the air around him. No longer just a man. No longer bound by flesh alone.

Lucian had seen many things in his life. Gods, demons, monsters.

And yet, as Castiel approached, for the first time, he understood what it meant to kneel before something greater.

The Emperor stopped before him. His golden eyes burned with unnatural light.

"Rise," Castiel commanded.

Lucian obeyed.

The Emperor studied him for a long moment. "Do you feel it, Lucian?"

Lucian clenched his jaw. "Yes."

"The hunger?"

Lucian's fingers twitched.

The hunger—the unnatural craving that gnawed at the edges of his mind. The whispers of power.

A side effect of the Demon's Blood.

"Yes," he admitted.

Castiel nodded. "Good. You are strong enough to contain it."

Lucian exhaled, steadying himself. "Why have you summoned me?"

The Emperor turned, pacing toward the altar. His hands folded behind his back. A king addressing his chosen knight.

"I will ask you once, Lucian."

His voice was like thunder in the quiet.

"Are you my sword?"

Lucian hesitated. A fraction of a second.

But the hesitation was enough.

Castiel stopped walking. Slowly, he turned back to face Lucian. His gaze hardened.

Lucian's chest tightened.

He understood.

There was no going back.

The Emperor had given him the power to stand again. To fight. To take revenge.

And in return, there was only one acceptable answer.

Lucian dropped to one knee.

"I am your sword, Your Majesty."

For a moment, silence.

Then, a small smile curved the Emperor's lips.

"Then it is time."

He raised his hand. A golden sigil burned into existence, casting the chamber in an ethereal glow. Power hummed in the air.

Lucian felt it before he saw it—something forming in the Emperor's grasp.

A sword.

No.

Not a sword.

A weapon of divine will.

The moment Castiel released it, the blade dropped before Lucian, embedding itself into the stone floor with a sound that shook the entire chamber.

Lucian's breath caught in his throat.

The weapon was not made of steel.

It pulsed. It breathed. The blackened metal shifted as if it were alive, veins of golden energy running through its core.

The Sword of Annihilation.

Castiel's voice rang through the chamber.

"Take it."

Lucian's fingers wrapped around the hilt.

Pain—searing, blinding pain—shot through his entire body.

He gritted his teeth, refusing to cry out. The sword was testing him.

It did not recognize him. It did not accept him.

Not yet.

But Lucian had already made his decision.

He would not be weak again.

With a snarl, he tightened his grip—and pulled.

The blade tore free from the stone with a burst of golden fire.

Lucian's vision blurred as power surged through him. The hunger within him roared, the whispers growing louder.

But he did not fall.

He embraced it.

And when his vision cleared, he met the Emperor's gaze.

Castiel smiled.

Lucian exhaled heavily, the weight of the sword now his to wield.

The Emperor stepped closer, his voice low, deliberate.

"There is a man who stands in the way of my will."

Lucian already knew the name before it was spoken.

"Kael Arden."

The Emperor's eyes gleamed.

"Find him."

Lucian's grip on the sword tightened.

"And cut him down."

To Be Continued…