ACT I – III
THE COURT OF BEELZEBUB

A tune resonates in the red-rogued field. A single note clashes with another which only causes dissonance in the air. Simultaneous sounds echo along the lands, accompanying the harsh sweltering of fires and wrenching screams of people. Their footsteps tap like music that thumps in a certain pattern, creating a poignant melody as they rush in several directions. It is a song that incites fear in any bystander, for it is the hymn of war.

Limbs, heads, and uncountable torn body parts litter the bloodied ground. The cold unmoving villagers' remains keep on piling up in the cobbled streets of the underworld. It is a horrible visage that induces nightmares even for the beings of the underworld.

Too frightening for such a seven-year-old boy who can only stay still in terror.

But the child has not screamed when countless people have died in front of him. No sound leaves his mouth. Not even a single tear comes out when his mother's dead body shields him from all the events.

He's been lying on the cold stone, immovable as if he is truly dead like his mother's rotting body pinned atop him. Yet, his eyes remain on the bright light that keeps on descending from the skies.

The Ring of Edacitas is the third layer of Hell and those white-winged creatures have already breached this point. As young as he is, he knows that his world is in danger because of those vile creatures who pose themselves as virtuous.

His mother always tells him how despicable angels are. They are the nemesis of demons like him and it is the truth as they have killed his remaining family.

His silver eyes grow darker in shade. Anger gnaws his insides while he can only daze blankly at the scene until he feels droplets of water on his face.

The little boy's hand reaches to his cheek and wipes the wetness, his quivering lips form a bitter smile.

Right there and then, he finally cries his heart out.

As tears stream down his face, the drops of rain form into thin threads of water. It pools beneath his body, sending cold shivers down his spine. He isn't able to move due to the weight of his mother but the water circling around lifts the body on top of him.

Free from any hindrance, the puddle of water swallows him whole and he gasps for air in an instant. The strings of liquid constrict his legs and arms, choking his neck until he is deprived of breathing.

'No! I cannot die unless I avenge my mother!' His mind opposes, trying to retain his consciousness.

His whole body flounders as he struggles from the tight grip of the water and limited air. He does not know how long he has endured until the transparent color has become a deep scarlet before gradually dissipating.

However, the strands of water strangling his life have remained on his back. Jet black wave outlines embellish his body which borders the Devil's Crest.

Unbeknownst to all, the heir of the Court of Beelzebub has survived his punishment and has successfully become a full-fledged Candidate.