Morning light spilled through the tall, grimy windows of the abandoned castle's dining hall. The room was cold, the walls lined with faded banners that whispered of forgotten glory.
Auren sat alone at the long wooden table, its surface worn by age and neglect. Before him was a simple breakfast — bread, a bowl of thin porridge, and a steaming cup of dark tea. Nothing lavish, yet more than enough for a morning that promised nothing but quiet schemes.
Behind him, Velethus stood in Eldrin's borrowed skin, hands clasped neatly behind his back, eyes lowered in the perfect imitation of a butler who'd served a royal family for decades.
Halfway through the meal, Auren broke the silence without looking up.
"Velethus," He said, his voice calm, spoon clinking softly against the bowl, "You mentioned the Demon World and Demon Ranks last night. Tell me about them."
Velethus's borrowed face smiled faintly, "Of course, Your Highness. This knowledge is no great secret."
He stepped closer, voice low but clear — layered with that faint, otherworldly undertone that made the polite tone almost sinister.
"The Demon World is a realm separate from this world. It was a plane where only demons dwell, ruled by strength and devouring. There are no humans there, no cattle ripe for harvesting. So the weak become the prey."
He paused, watching Auren for any reaction.
There was none — only the quiet sound of porcelain scraping wood.
"In that world," Velethus continued, "soul force is everything. A demon's existence depends on it. We feed on the souls of lesser demons — the strong thrive, the weak are culled."
He tilted his head slightly, the veil of false humanity shifting with the motion.
"We desire fresh harvests. Other worlds — like this world — hold rich pools of soul force. That is why we breach their Veils. Once, we tried to invade the human world outright. Armies of Outer Demons clawing at the veil between realms. But the human world… resisted."
He let the last word linger, voice carrying a thin note of disappointed amusement.
"Your kind fought back well enough. The Veil that separates our worlds now is thicker than it once was. An outright invasion is impossible — so we rely on mortals like Eldrin, willing to offer sacrifices and open tiny doors."
Velethus studied Auren's face once again, searching for fear, or at least unease.
To his disappointment, he found only calm indifference.
Auren simply lifted his cup and took another sip of tea, his crimson eyes half-lidded.
"It's a nuisance then," He said lightly, setting the cup down, "But it has little to do with me — so long as you remain useful."
Velethus's borrowed smile twitched faintly at the corners — he had failed to rattle him.
"…And the ranks?" Auren asked next, tearing a piece of bread in half.
"The ranks," Velethus explained, folding his hands behind his back once more, "Are like your noble titles — Baron, Viscount, Count, Marquis, Duke, Archduke… King. But among demons, such titles are earned purely by strength. Not by birthright, nor by coin, nor by favor."
He leaned slightly closer, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper behind Auren's chair.
"The higher the rank, the more soul force a demon can wield. The stronger their illusions, domains, corruption, and control. A lesser demon must bow before one of higher rank. We cannot break that law — the Veil of Nobility binds us."
Auren listened silently, eyes fixed on the simple meal before him.
Outside, the wind howled faintly against the high windows, rattling the loose panes.
Auren only reached for his tea again, lips curving faintly as steam rose in the pale morning light.
He set his cup down with a soft clink, the faint steam curling in the cold air. He regarded Velethus through half-lidded eyes, thoughtful, sharp.
"Since you demons are so strong," He said slowly, "How did you fail to invade the human world? And how did humans resist you? Does it all come down to the Veil you keep mentioning?"
"You underestimate your own kind, Your Highness," Velethus's borrowed face curved into a polite, knowing smile. He said softly, "Though perhaps it is not your fault — abandoned and kept from certain knowledge as you were. But the human world is not as simple as it seems to mortals."
This time, Auren's crimson eyes sharpened — a rare crack in his unshakable calm.
"…What do you mean?"
Velethus inclined his head slightly, voice carrying that soft, echoing timbre as if multiple whispers spoke through him.
"Although the Veil did a good job protecting this world, there was another reason this world could resist our kind and even counterattack. As far as I know, there are powerful individuals among your kind — the Templars. They were the frontline warriors during our invasion. Some were so bold they crossed the Veil themselves, bringing chaos to our realm — just as we slip through forbidden cracks to harvest souls here."
He paused deliberately, gauging Auren's reaction — and found that the prince was listening now, truly listening.
"And perhaps Your Highness is unaware…" Velethus continued, the polite smile returning, "That the priests who tended to you in your former sickbed were Templars, too — from the Paladin Temple, one of the fabled Seven Pillar Temples."
Auren turned his gaze to the far window — beyond the frost-specked glass, the morning sun glinted off the rain-soaked stones of the courtyard. But his mind was far from the ruined castle.
Inside, something uneasy coiled behind his ribs.
'So this world isn't as simple as it looked…'
He thought of his 'accident' — of waking up here in a body shackled by a curse of Overflowed Soul. A flicker of suspicion bloomed deep in his mind.
'Perhaps my arrival here isn't pure chance after all…'
His eyes narrowed faintly, crimson irises catching the pale light like twin shards of blood.
"…Tell me more about these Templars."
Velethus lowered his head a little, the strange light behind his eyes flickering faintly. He said calmly, "Your Highness, my knowledge about the Templars is not complete. I only know what most demons know. That's also what we gradually learn every time we descend through a Demon Summoning Ritual."
Auren put down his fork and looked at him, waiting for him to continue.
"In this world," Velethus explained, "Humans can possess extraordinary power by awakening their soul core. However, they cannot awaken it by themselves. They need a special ritual — and only the Temples can do this ritual."
He paused for a moment before he continued, "So, if someone wants to have this extraordinary power, they must go to the Temples. Only the Temples can assist humans in awakening their soul core."
Auren tapped the table lightly, "What is soul force?"
Velethus nodded, "The soul core is the center of all power. It gives you energy for magic, fighting, or even life itself. All living things have it — humans, beasts, demons — but each has a different method to awaken their soul core. It's like how demons cannot use humans' method, humans also cannot use demons' method."
He tilted his head, speaking like a teacher.
"In the human world, once someone awakens their soul core, they are called Templars. They are the warriors and protectors of humans. They are strong enough to fight demons like me."
Auren's eyes narrowed, "And the Seven Pillar Temples?"
Velethus's smile grew a little, "There are many kinds of Templars and Temples in the world, but seven are the most powerful and they are called the Seven Pillar Temples."
He raised one finger at a time as he counted them.
"The Knight Templars — from the Temple of Iron Oath.
The Sorcerer Templars — from the Temple of Arcane Truth.
The Paladin Templars — from the Temple of Sacred Flame.
The Assassin Templars — from the Temple of Silent Moon.
The Machinist Templars — from the Temple of Eternal Gears.
The Summoner Templars — from the Temple of Primal Roar.
And the Seer Templars — from the Temple of Fate's Mirror."
He folded his hands and said simply, "These seven are the strongest and have the longest heritage compared to other temples. They are also the main power who stopped demons before, and they keep your world safe even now."
The more Auren listened, the brighter his eyes became.
In his past life, why did he build the Argent System?
Why did he gather all that money and power?
It was simple — so no one could look down on him. So no one could bully him. So no one could silence him or treat him like nothing.
But in the end, even with all that money and his genius creation, he still lost — killed by a single sniper's bullet.
The truth was clear: money and brains could not protect him from real power.
'If only I had power like those Templars, Auren thought. I wouldn't have died like a dog.'
This time, he would not repeat that mistake.
"How can I reach these temples? How can I become a Templar?" Auren asked at once, eyes sharp.
Velethus lowered his head slightly, "Forgive me, Your Highness. I do not know the exact way. But from Eldrin's memories, I know the Royal Library holds records about the temples. You may find what you need there."
Auren's brow furrowed when he heard "Royal Library."
He was still a prince—in name. But in truth, he was an exile.
Returning to the capital now was impossible. Entering the Royal Library? Even harder. Outsiders needed the king's permission to enter. And he had no favor left with the king.
"Is there any other way?" Auren asked quietly.
Velethus folded his hands behind his back, "As I said, Your Highness, my knowledge is limited when it comes to Templars and their temples. Most temples are very secretive — ordinary people can't find them, even if they try. Thus, the Royal Library is the safest way to find answers. But…"
A sly smile tugged at the corner of his borrowed mouth, "…If you wish it, I can go to the capital and steal what you need."
Auren fell silent, his eyes half-lidded as if weighing the offer. But in truth, he wasn't even listening to Velethus anymore.
His eyes dropped to his chest — and for a heartbeat, the world around him bled of all color, turning to shades of cold monochrome.
Then, clear and sharp, a thin line of crimson light pulsed out from his heart, threading through the stale air like a living vein — pointing, unwavering, toward some distant place beyond these ruined walls.
Auren's lips parted just slightly — not in fear, but in a slow, dangerous smile.A familiar thrill coiled low in his gut — the same cold rush he used to feel whenever the Argent System spat out a lead, a new market, a new target for acquisition.
'Another Redline… another piece of the puzzle.'
He could almost taste it — power, within reach, like iron on his tongue.
Velethus tilted his head, thinking his master was pondering theft and risks. But the demon couldn't see the single gleaming thread that cut through the world like a knife.
Auren lifted his tea, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as the color bled back into the stone hall.
"Forget the capital for now," He murmured under his breath, voice soft but carrying the weight of iron.
'I'll get what I need — in my own way.'