Demonbound

4

By the time the Blackwell estate came into view, Lumi’s legs were burning.

The road had long since given way to cobblestone paths lined with iron lamps that glowed faintly despite the lingering daylight. Tall hedges rose on either side, trimmed with unnatural precision, their dark leaves absorbing light rather than reflecting it.

Beyond them stretched rows of houses—dozens of them—each large enough to be mistaken for a noble residence.

Yet none of them were the mansion.

They passed through neighbourhood after neighbourhood, each home dressed in shades of black, charcoal, and deep violet. Stone façades were carved with subtle sigil patterns. Windows were tall and narrow, their glass tinted so dark it was impossible to see inside. The air itself felt heavier here, as though sound struggled to carry.

This was the Blackwell territory.

Lumi stumbled slightly, catching himself before he fell. His chest ached. His breath came in shallow gasps. Sweat clung to his back and soaked into the strap of his bag.

Ahead of him, Corvin walked with the same lazy stride he’d had hours ago. Hands in his pockets. Shoulders loose. As though they hadn’t just trekked for miles after a demon attack and a wrecked car.

The driver was no different. He hadn’t broken pace once.

Lumi hated that.

Finally, the houses thinned, opening into a vast courtyard paved with polished black stone. At its far end stood the mansion.

It rose like a monument to shadow.

Multiple wings branched outward from a central structure, each layered with balconies, arches, and spires that clawed toward the sky.

The tall iron gates stood open, their sigils recognising Corvin the moment he crossed the threshold.

Lumi slowed to a stop just inside the courtyard.

The scale of it stole the breath he barely had left.

This wasn’t a home.

It was a fortress pretending to be one.

Corvin glanced back. “Try not to collapse. You’ll make a terrible first impression.”

Lumi clenched his jaw and forced himself forward.

They hadn’t taken more than a dozen steps when the mansion doors opened.

A man stepped out, arms wide, smile bright enough to feel rehearsed.

“Oh, Corvin,” he said warmly, striding forward. “My favourite younger brother. It’s very nice to see you.”

He went in for a hug.

Corvin shoved him back without hesitation.

“Scott,” Corvin said flatly. “What do you want?”

Scott staggered a half-step, then laughed, smoothing his coat as if nothing had happened. He was taller than Corvin, broader too, with the same pale hair but softer features. His necrotic sigil coiled faintly at his collarbone, visible through the open neckline of his shirt.

“What makes you think I want something?” Scott said, smiling.

“You always do,” Corvin replied. He gestured vaguely toward the mansion. “But I have to see Father first. Is he around?”

“He is,” Scott said, eyes flicking past Corvin. “But I’d like to address the elephant in the room first.”

He looked directly at Lumi.

“And who’s that?”

Corvin followed his gaze. “Oh. This is Lumi. Youngest son of the Calder patriarch.”

Scott’s eyebrows rose slightly. “A Calder? Here?”

“I thought all the families preferred keeping to themselves unless there was a major gathering—or a demon worth killing,” Scott continued lightly.

“Well,” Corvin said, “Father requested a servant after we lost one during the last hunt. I didn’t expect the Calder patriarch to send his own son, but here we are.”

Scott’s smile sharpened. “Interesting…”

“I’m seeing Father now,” Corvin said, already turning away. “Whatever you need from me can wait. Show Lumi to the servants’ quarters and explain his duties.”

Scott blinked. “Hey—hold on. You can’t just pass your work onto me, that’s—”

Corvin was already walking.

Scott sighed and turned toward the driver. “You wouldn’t mind—”

The driver had already started walking away.

Quickly.

Scott stared after him for a moment, then let out a long breath.

“…Of course.”

He looked back at Lumi.

“Well,” he said. “Come with me.”

---

The Blackwell mansion was even larger on the inside.

Corridors branched endlessly, ceilings vaulted high above them. Black marble floors reflected the dim glow of embedded sigils, and every surface seemed carved with purpose. There were no bright colours here. No warmth. Even the tapestries that lined the walls depicted scenes of death, decay, and rebirth in muted shades of grey and silver.

“This wing houses the family archive,” Scott said as they walked. “Restricted access. That door leads to the ritual halls—absolutely forbidden to servants. Dining hall’s down there. East wing is guest housing.”

Lumi listened quietly, eyes darting everywhere.

Despite the darkness, the place was beautiful. Elegant. Everything had been designed with care. It was nothing like the Calder estate.

The Calders’ home had been bright. Open. Yellows and browns. Sunlight everywhere.

This place swallowed light whole.

He realised, slowly, that the décor mirrored the Blackwell sigil itself.

Darkness wasn’t hidden here.

It was embraced.

When they finally reached the servants’ quarters, the air changed.

The halls were narrower, warmer. Laughter drifted faintly from behind a door. Scott opened it and gestured him inside.

The room was modest but clean. Several servants looked up at once.

“Oh—new face?” someone said.

A woman smiled and waved. “You must be the new arrival. Welcome.”

Lumi froze.

They weren’t staring at him with disdain.

They weren’t whispering.

They were smiling.

Scott watched his reaction with mild amusement. “I’ll leave the rest of the introductions to them. Your duties will be explained shortly.”

He turned and then he left.

The door closed behind him.

Lumi stood there, surrounded by strangers who greeted him like he belonged.

For the first time in his life, he didn’t know what to do with that.

---

Corvin knocked once before entering his father’s study.

The room was dim, lit by a single sigil-lamp hovering above the desk. Shelves lined the walls, filled with grimoires and relics sealed behind wards. The Blackwell patriarch looked up as Corvin stepped inside.

“Welcome back,” he said calmly. “Did the Calders provide what we requested?”

“They did,” Corvin replied. “Though they sent their youngest son to fill in for the role.”

The man’s brow furrowed. “Their youngest? Why? Isn’t the task of a servant beneath him?”

“The patriarch certainly didn’t see it that way,” Corvin stepped closer. “There’s another issue I’d like to discuss though.”

“Oh?”

“We were attacked on the way back. A demon destroyed our car.”

“That’s… unusual,” his father’s gaze sharpened. “Was there any casualties?”

“None. I handled it.”

“And the demon’s body?”

“It disintegrated into ash.”

The patriarch nodded slowly. “Good. Higher-tier demons leave remains. This one wasn’t exceptional.”

“That’s not what bothered me about our encounter with this demon,” Corvin placed his hand on the desk. “The demon waited for us.”

Silence followed.

“You believe it targeted you specifically.”

“Yes. There were no civilian casualties. No prior sightings. It chose us.”

His father leaned back. “Demons are animals. They are incapable of coordinating attacks.”

“They’re learning,” Corvin said quietly. “They must be attacking hunters deliberately now. Remove us, and the rest of humanity is defenceless.”

A pause.

“Should we increase patrols?” Corvin asked. “Alert the other families?”

“That would cause unnecessary panic,” his father replied. “You killed it. That means it was weak.”

“This one was weak but the next one might not be.”

“We still have the upper hand,” the patriarch said firmly. “And we’ll prove it.”

“How?”

“We set a trap,” he said. “Let them come. Intelligence doesn’t compensate for lack of strength. We still surpass them in every segment.”

Corvin bowed and turned to leave.

As he left the study, unease settled in his chest.

He hoped—truly—that his father was right.