Chapter 81: The First Demon

Chapter 81: The First Demon"...You guys okay?"

Temmy’s voice cut through the quiet again.

Ruka’s knuckles popped as his fist tightened. His eyes stayed fixed on the stones beneath his feet.

"Yeah..." he muttered. "So... who is she?"

Temmy scratched the back of her head and exhaled through her nose.

"I only got a name." She shrugged, but her eyes were sharp now. "Greta wasn’t exactly in the mood for a full history lesson. After Remu got dragged out like that, she was pissed. But... before she left, she sent me a message. A mental one."

Ruka looked up slowly.

Lucifer didn’t move. He was just standing there, arms at his side, gaze far off.

"She said one word," Temmy continued, her voice a little lower now. "Lilith."

She paused, letting it hang there.

"Lilith—the first demon."



Lucifer’s eyes didn’t widen. His body didn’t twitch. But something about the air around him changed.

He turned.

Said nothing.

And walked.

Past them. Down the stone path, past the trees, through the gate and toward the side fields of the Williams property.

He didn’t say a word.

Ruka watched him go, his eyes shadowed by his hair.

He didn’t follow. Not yet.

Temmy shoved her hands into her pockets.

"...Guess he didn’t take that well."

Ruka didn’t answer.

He stood there for a long moment. The wind rustled through the leaves. Somewhere far behind the mansion, the kitchen lights flicked on. Some of the staff must’ve returned.

Temmy stepped away, maybe realizing the conversation was over. She didn’t push it.

Ruka stayed behind.

He finally sat down on the steps leading up to the main house, arms on his knees, eyes pointed to the stars.

Lilith.

He whispered it in his head again and again like it would change if he said it one more time.

The first demon. The beginning of all that twisted.

That was their mother?

He always thought she was dead. Or gone. Maybe just some woman with too much magic in her blood who dumped them both and vanished.

But Lilith?

That was history. Old magic. Older than kingdoms. Older than vampire clans. The kind of thing people whispered in temples and chalked onto cave walls when language wasn’t even a thing yet.

And now it was personal.

His mother wasn’t just a monster.

She was the monster.

The one every other demon modeled themselves after.

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, fingers laced tight.

How were they supposed to fight that?

Lilith was out there. Somewhere. Maybe watching. Maybe waiting.

Ruka didn’t know.

And worse—he didn’t even know what she wanted.

She left them behind. Him and Lucifer.

Why?

Was it part of a plan? Was she trying to stay hidden? Or did she just not care?

And if she showed up now—what would she say?

"Hi, I’m your mom. Sorry for abandoning you. Now fight me."

He shook his head, gritting his teeth.

No.

It wouldn’t go like that.

There was no happy ending here.

No hugs. No apologies.

If she came back, it would be blood. Fire. War.

And that meant he needed to get stronger.

Way stronger.

Lucifer already looked like he was building toward something. Something dangerous. That last fight, the way he moved, the way he snapped that spell like it was paper—

That wasn’t his limit.

But Ruka?

He still had miles to go.

He still relied on brute force. Flames. Pure emotion. He could fight. He could throw down with beasts and win.

But this?

This was going to be something else.

And deep down, he knew.

If it came down to it... if Lilith stood in front of them—

It was going to be him and Lucifer.

Only them.

The two sons she left behind.

And one way or another, that was going to end ugly.

He sat there for a while. Just thinking.



No plans. No training montage. No sudden inspiration.

Just silence.

And the weight of the name.

Lilith.

He muttered it once under his breath.

"I don’t care who you are."

The words barely left his mouth.

"If you’re the first demon, then I’ll just be the last one you ever see."

He leaned back, staring at the sky. The stars above blinked through the clouds, cold and silent.

Lucifer was still out there somewhere on the edge of the field, walking off whatever storm was building inside him.

Temmy was probably inside by now, maybe checking on Francisca or eating through the kitchen pantry like usual.

But Ruka just stayed on the steps.

Because the next part of the story wasn’t about running or training or surviving.

It was about facing what made them.

And burning it down.

The Bloom Mansion

The room was quiet, dimly lit by the pale blue glow of magic runes.

Remu thrashed on the floor, chained down by heavy black bindings etched with ancient symbols. The runes shimmered, alive, crawling like veins of light across the metal. They pulsed with a faint hum, reacting to her rage—but not breaking.

She snarled, her teeth bared, eyes wild. Burn marks still lined her skin from the fight, but her fury drowned out the pain.

Across from her stood Greta.

Her long robe flowed like mist, untouched by the chaos in the room. Her eyes, however, told a different story—heavy, sad. And tired.

She watched her daughter for a moment longer, then knelt down slowly.

"Truly..." she said softly, "they say hate born from love is the strongest of all."

Remu roared, lunging against the chains. The runes flared, burning her wrists, her ankles, locking her down with a thrum of ancient restraint.

"You don’t know anything!" she screamed. "He—he chose her over me! He was mine!"

Greta didn’t flinch.

Her eyes flickered with pain—but not surprise.

"This obsession," she whispered, "this thing you’ve twisted into love... it’s what brought you here. To this."

Remu breathed hard, hair clinging to her sweat-soaked skin, her body trembling.

"He was supposed to look at me... only me," she spat.

Greta leaned forward, brushing the hair gently from Remu’s face. She didn’t move to comfort—just to see her more clearly.

"And he did."

Remu blinked.

"Once."

Greta sighed and closed her eyes.

"I didn’t want to do this again." Her voice broke slightly. "But I’ll help you. The same way I helped him."

Remu froze.

"What...?"

Greta placed a gentle hand on her daughter’s burning forehead.

"He doesn’t remember it, Remu. The pain. The nights. The guilt."

Remu’s eyes widened, confusion flickering through her rage.

"He doesn’t remember hurting you. Or how it ended. I took it all from him. You don’t know because I erased you from his pain. Because I thought it would save you both."

The words hit like a drop of ice down Remu’s spine.

"You... what?"

Greta leaned in closer. Her voice was barely above a whisper now.

"I’ll do the same for you."

Remu’s mouth moved, but no words came out. Her breathing quickened, panic creeping in behind her fury.

"No."

Her voice cracked.

"No, no, don’t you dare—"

Greta pressed her lips to Remu’s forehead. Just once.

A soft kiss.

And then she stood, quietly brushing off her robe.

"You can start again."

She turned without another word.

The chains glowed brighter. The runes buzzed louder now, reacting to a second spell now weaving through them—subtle, creeping into Remu’s mind.

"Wait!" Remu shouted, her voice breaking. "Don’t take it from me! Don’t—don’t take what’s mine—"

But Greta was already at the door.



She paused in the frame.

Her shadow stretched across the room, long and flickering under the blue light.

"You were never his."

The door closed.

Click.

The locks slid into place. Magic sealed the edges with a pulse of gold.

And inside, Remu screamed.

Not like a villain.

Not like a warrior.

But like a girl whose entire world was slipping through her fingers.

Again.

And the chains held.