‘Logic,’ I’ve attempted to dissect my circumstances, but every effort feels utterly pointless. People often misinterpret the nuances of love and hate; they are not interchangeable emotions, but rather distinct feelings that can coexist in a complex relationship.

I found myself yearning for an escape from reality, a desperate desire to break free from the chains of my existence.

Do you have any idea what that sensation is like?

Can you comprehend the depths of true despair?

The kind that arises from the cycle of gaining and losing, from the very essence of loss itself?

How did I arrive at this juncture in my life?

How did I transform from a carefree girl into this shadow of my former self?

I’ve buried the tumultuous emotions that threaten to erupt, yet somehow, I’ve grown accustomed to this state of being, haven’t I?

Kneeling on the ground, my head bowed in submission, hands outstretched with palms facing upward. But I could not accept this fate. I couldn’t reconcile the idea that I would not join him in death. I was far from at peace with it.

After battling against the maddening urge to possess him, I felt as though I died alongside him. I longed for a fresh start, to grant him another chance despite all that he had done. This overwhelming desire spiraled into a violent rampage.

When I took a life, I experienced a thrill that rivaled the intensity of my love for the brother who harbored such deep-seated hatred for me. I was wounded, and even though my expectations remained unfulfilled, I did not encounter him after my death.

Instead, I found myself reincarnated into this new body.

Not entirely human, yet not completely different either. I had never been fully human in that previous life, not in that world, nor with that mindset.

At least I gained some measure of power, which allowed me to navigate this savage world longer than I initially anticipated. Or so I believed.

Let me take you back to the beginning; starting from the middle would only serve to confuse you. Hopefully, you can glean something from my tale and, in the future, perhaps live a little longer… without being overly concerned about the consequences.

~

In this life, my name is De Villiana Chu, just as it was in my previous one. In my last life, I was a sheltered girl, raised by my father until the age of two, surrounded by my parents and an adopted brother. From him, I learned some unconventional lessons, a situation that only worsened when my mother took over, a master of manipulation and control.

At the age of five, my adopted brother, a few years my senior, was brought home by my grandparents, a decision made by both sides of the family to provide me with companionship.

As time passed, they requested that I move from the island to the mainland when I turned ten, while my brother was already fourteen. We made our way to the Asian continent, arriving in the specific country that would become our new home.

Ah, how dramatically life shifted the moment I set foot in that country.

Well, that life has faded into obscurity; now I find myself in a new one.

I am a demoness—how fitting. Perhaps it reflects the essence of what I was in my past existence.

I hail from the Dekonic continent, a demoness by birthright, yet unable to claim my royal status due to a tangled web of circumstances and unfortunate events. The details of that story will come later. What I am now is a combination of Wolf and Shadow Demon.

In my essence, I embody a perfect duality. Shadow demons possess dark skin that allows them to blend seamlessly into the shadows, but I am a blend of moon wolf, giving my skin a beautiful clay tone. My hair cascades down my back like a massive mane, usually styled in intricate twists. My eyes, naturally a striking blue, are concealed beneath a mask, allowing my master to glimpse my true face only when he commands it.

Yes, master.

A servant demon is a more accurate description than a mere shadow demon. Our nature is… peculiar. We are born to serve, born to kill, and destined to live in the shadow of our chosen master.

“She is well trained,” someone remarked, and inwardly, I flinched.

I had no desire to serve, but who crafted this perfect shell that I inhabit?

I am a servant to my master, just as all those before me; my senses are finely tuned to my surroundings. The melodically deep voice of my master reached my ears, “She is from a long line of servants, spanning twelve generations.” He was a royal red demon, marked by his trademark red hair and pupils; his horns sprouted from his forehead, curving elegantly towards his skull. His physique was slim, a testament to his youth, yet he was already larger and stronger than most.

“Oh my, she is a prize; tell me, will she be breeding soon?” the male who posed the question sounded harmless enough, but a grey demon is anything but harmless.

They are among the elusive demons. The atmosphere shifted, and I sensed a slight chill; I did not react, as I was acutely aware of my master’s presence.

The hall fell silent. I concentrated on him, tuning into my senses; I could move swiftly enough to counter any false move made against me; their blood would sing to my soul as it spilled. Should I use my hands? My claws? My teeth? Or perhaps one of my beasts? “My servants reflect me; when you insult them, it is as if you are insulting me.”

I appeared to be the model servant, obedient, diligent... and deadly. At seventy-five Dekronic years, I had become the perfect weapon for the firstborn of the ruling family; I belonged to him in almost every conceivable way. “It was not an insult, more to say I find her coloring fascinating; I am aware that there are none of her coloring in our vast kingdom.”

The urge to scoff bubbled within me, but as the years passed, I learned to separate my true self from the shell I inhabited; adapting quickly is one of my strengths. In my previous life, I had to do just that, especially with the feelings I harbored towards ‘him.’

To suppress the emotions that threatened to erupt, I retreated deeper into myself, yet I remained aware enough to respond if danger approached.

“She is seventy-five,” my master stated tersely. “A perfect age; she has studied among royals and highborns. Such a female is extremely attractive.” Oh? How bold of him. I heard him pause, sensing his approach, the richness of his scent enveloping me, “I want her.” Something within me trembled; before I could delve deeper into that feeling, a loud noise shattered the tension, drawing my attention upward.

The sound of shattering glass, flesh colliding with flesh; I exhaled a frosty breath. If one looked closely, they could see tendrils of curling smoke twisting as if alive. I moved before the smoke could dissipate; it was swift; I was faster than them, and I demonstrated this when I seized the large male and slammed him against the wall, squeezing with all my might.

His eyes widened in panic; I pushed off from my position and smiled at him, revealing a glimpse of the power I possessed. Then, I retreated and turned my attention to another. I crushed his throat with ease and then focused on the other four lurking in the shadows.

I struggled to keep the manic glee from showing on my face, but inside, I was bubbling with joy, my eyes alight with excitement.