As I was about to leave the royal palace, a subtle movement caught my eye. Instinctively, my hand went to the hilt of my sword as I turned, ready for anything.

What I saw froze me in place.

The decapitated body of King Gaspar lay sprawled on the floor, his severed head rolling a few feet away. My breath hitched. I stood there, paralyzed, unable to look away from the gruesome sight.

But before I could even process what had happened, something unbelievable occurred. The king’s head began to reattach itself, the flesh and bone knitting back together before my very eyes. Within moments, Gaspar stood whole again, as if nothing had happened.

“Well, Griffith,” he said with a mocking grin, “it seems you’ve witnessed something rather... unique.”

I couldn’t find the words. My mouth hung open in shock as I tried to make sense of what I’d just seen.

“How... How is this possible?” I finally managed to stammer.

Gaspar chuckled, his voice carrying an unsettling edge. His eyes gleamed with a sinister light.

“Oh, my dear Griffith, you haven’t seen anything yet,” he sneered. “Allow me to share a little story about my family...”

He paused, savoring the moment, clearly enjoying my discomfort.

“You see, I was married once. I had a wife, a beautiful daughter... a family I cherished deeply,” he said, his tone laced with false nostalgia. “But as fate would have it, the previous king of Valoria deemed me unworthy of the throne. And so, I was left... powerless.”

His expression darkened, his eyes smoldering with barely-contained fury.

“So, I made a deal,” he spat, venom dripping from his words. “With a demon named Xanatos. In exchange for the lives of my wife and daughter, he granted me the power I needed to claim the throne.”

A cold shiver ran down my spine. So, that was Gaspar’s terrible secret—a pact with a demon for the sake of power.

“But there’s a catch, of course,” Gaspar continued, a sardonic smile playing on his lips. “This power came at a price. I’m cursed to walk this world as a shadow of myself, unable to die. My body will always rebuild itself, no matter what.”

He let out a guttural laugh that echoed through the corridor, sending an unpleasant chill through the air.

“So, what do you think, Griffith?” he asked, his tone dripping with mockery. “Not exactly the noble king of Valoria, am I?”

I hesitated, struggling to process everything he’d just revealed. Gaspar wasn’t just a king—he was a cursed, undying wretch bound by his own treachery.

But as I stood there, an idea began to form in my mind. If Gaspar was tied to some demonic power, perhaps he could lead me to the Vein of the Demon.

Taking a deep breath, I carefully chose my words.

“That’s... quite the story, Your Majesty,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “But I must admit, I’m surprised. You had everything—family, status—and yet, you chose to make a deal with a demon?”

Gaspar tilted his head, scrutinizing me with a hint of amusement.

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“Well, Griffith, when you’re faced with losing everything you hold dear, you might find yourself making... questionable decisions,” he replied, his voice tinged with a sinister edge.

I nodded slowly, feigning understanding.

“I see. And this demon, Xanatos—what did he ask of you in return for his... assistance?” I asked innocently, as if making casual conversation.

A wicked grin spread across Gaspar’s face.

“Oh, nothing too extravagant,” he said with a shrug. “Just my soul... and the souls of my family.”

I fought the urge to grimace. Sacrificing his own wife and daughter for power? The thought made my stomach churn.

“I suppose that’s one way to ensure you get what you want,” I said neutrally. “Though, I can’t imagine making such a choice myself.”

Gaspar’s eyes bore into mine, as if trying to read my thoughts.

“Ah, but that’s what makes you so... righteous, isn’t it, Griffith?” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “I’m sure someone like you would never stoop so low, even if it meant achieving your greatest ambitions.”

I held his gaze, refusing to rise to his bait.

“You’re right,” I said calmly. “I don’t need demonic power to accomplish my goals. My actions will speak for themselves.”

Gaspar let out a bark of laughter, clearly amused by my response.

“Ah, the naivety of youth!” he jeered. “It’s... refreshing, really. But trust me, Griffith, when you’re faced with the same trials I endured, you might find your principles... flexible.”

I forced a polite smile, hiding my revulsion.

“Perhaps. But I hope I never have to make such choices,” I replied simply.

Gaspar studied me for a moment, his expression unreadable.

“We’ll see, my young friend,” he said cryptically. “We’ll see.”

With that, he turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing in the quiet corridor. I stood there, heart pounding, trying to process everything I’d just learned.

So, the King of Valoria wasn’t just a tyrant—he was a cursed immortal, bound by a pact with a demon. The revelation was as horrifying as it was fascinating.

But more importantly, it raised new questions. Did Gaspar know anything about the Vein of the Demon? And if he did, could he be persuaded to share that knowledge?

Clenching my fists, I made a silent vow. Whatever it took, I would uncover the secrets of the Vein of the Demon.

"Tell me, Your Majesty," I asked in a deliberately casual tone, "did Xanatos ever mention anything about the Demon’s Vein?"

Gaspar stopped abruptly, his gaze narrowing, a sudden glint of intrigue flashing in his eyes.

"The Demon’s Vein, you say? Hmm, that name does ring a bell," he replied, his tone thoughtful. "From what I know, it’s said to be an artifact of immense power, capable of conceptually erasing demons, no matter their form."

He paused, his piercing eyes studying me closely.

"However," he continued, "I never managed to get my hands on it. Xanatos only promised me the power I needed to rule over Valoria." His lips twisted into a faint smirk.

I nodded slowly, absorbing every detail. So the Demon’s Vein could erase demons—completely and utterly, regardless of their nature. That kind of power was beyond comprehension.

"I see… And this power he gave you, what does it entail exactly?" I pressed, feigning mere curiosity.

Gaspar’s smirk widened into something darker, more cryptic.

"Let’s just say," he began, his voice carrying an unsettling calm, "it allows to alter or erase anything related to demons, be it words, abilities, or even their very existence." He leaned in slightly, his tone lowering conspiratorially. "But, alas, I can’t reveal more. Xanatos keeps his secrets locked tighter than any vault."

A chill ran down my spine as I began to grasp the sheer magnitude of this artifact’s power. If it truly could manipulate reality in such a way, then it wasn’t just a weapon—it was an existential threat in the wrong hands.

And there was no way I could allow it to fall into Xanatos’s clutches—or anyone else’s, for that matter. I had to find it. I had to claim it before it was too late.