Years ago, when William was just nine years old, he had visited a noble house in a neighbouring town with Lady Aleda.
That was when the shockwaves reached him—dull, heavy thuds that rattled windows and cracked stone. Curiosity won over caution. Ignoring the shouted warnings of the soldiers, William slipped away to see what was happening.
A true devil had appeared. A ranked one.
The town had already been weakened by a recent ambush, and the defensive line was collapsing by the minute. Worse still, the devil possessed an ability that swallowed magic whole. Spells dispersed the moment they touched its presence, rendered meaningless.
Even William, gifted as he was, felt helpless before the monstrosity.
Then an old man appeared.
He came without warning, walking straight into the chaos with nothing but a wooden staff in his hand. That was the first time William ever saw someone fight without using even a trace of Aether.
No chants. No glow. No techniques layered with sorcery.
