From the land of Accendino, humanity once lived beneath a sky stained by war.
Demons roamed freely then.
Death followed in their wake like shadow follows flame. Entire cities vanished overnight, swallowed by forces no mortal could comprehend. The Council of Accendino, desperate and broken, turned to the only power beyond their understanding—a demi-god known as Piero.
Piero did not offer salvation.
He offered containment.
From his will, a prison realm was forged—sealed within a single bracelet. A fragment of reality folded upon itself, where even demons could be bound.
The artifact was entrusted to the House of Ren.
Generations passed, and the Rens trained warriors who could resist the infernal tide. Together with the bracelet's power, most demons were eventually sealed away.
And then—without warning—they stopped.
The war ended in silence.
But peace, in Accendino, was never meant to last.
Dante Ren — The Fifth Wielder
Hundreds of years ago.
From the moment I saw her, I knew.
Not in the way one recognizes a stranger in passing, but in the way one recognizes fate itself—inescapable, undeniable.
I approached her with what courage I could gather.
"Pardon me, my lady," I said with a slight bow. "Might I have the honour of knowing your name?"
She startled at first, as though unaccustomed to being addressed so formally. Then—slowly—she smiled.
"My name is Gem," she replied gently. "And yours?"
"Dante. Dante Ren."
"The pleasure is mine."
I remember thinking then that her voice alone was something worth losing time for.
And so I stayed.
What began as chance became habit.
And what became habit… became love.
Azzurro's Warning
It was on a quiet afternoon when Azzurro first spoke his concern.
We walked through the estate gardens. Autumn had begun its slow descent, painting the world in fading gold. Leaves crunched beneath our steps.
"There is something wrong about her," Azzurro said quietly.
I frowned. "You barely know her."
"I know enough," he replied. "Her presence… it is not natural. As though something inside her burns too brightly."
I stopped walking.
"You are mistaken."
Azzurro looked at me with something close to pity. "You are blinded by affection."
"I would rather be blinded by love than live in suspicion," I answered.
Silence followed after that.
And I chose not to hear him anymore.
The Day Everything Changed
The house felt different that evening.
Still.
Too still.
A scent lingered in the air—faint, metallic, wrong. Something I had only ever smelled near sealed gates.
Demons.
My hand tightened on the door handle.
"Do you smell that?" Azzurro whispered behind me.
"Yes."
We entered.
Gem sat in the armchair as though it were a throne.
Beautiful. Serene.
Wrong.
"Gem…" I called softly. "Are you well, my love?"
Her gaze lifted slowly.
And in that moment, I did not recognize her.
"I am more than well," she said.
Her voice was colder than I had ever heard it.
"It is you, Dante… who has already lost."
My breath caught.
"What are you saying?"
A slow smile formed on her lips. Not warm. Not gentle.
Cruel.
"You humans are always the same," she said softly. "So easy to guide. So easy to break."
Azzurro stepped forward suddenly, pale.
"She's not human," he said.
A pause.
Then Gem laughed.
And the sound itself felt wrong—like reality cracking under pressure.
"You finally see it," she whispered.
The Sovereign Arrives
The air tore open.
A black portal bloomed in the center of the room, spilling heat and darkness.
From it stepped a man.
No.
Something worse than a man.
His presence pressed against my chest like an invisible weight. His eyes burned red like dying stars.
"I am Aldo Morrezzo," he said calmly. "Sovereign of demons."
My world collapsed in that instant.
Gem was already gone.
Her voice lingered instead.
"You were never more than a tool, Dante."
The Fall of Dante Ren
Azzurro moved first.
I did not even see him fall.
The word came next—spoken like a decree:
"Congelare."
My body locked.
Not frozen.
Claimed.
I could not move. Could not breathe properly. Could only think.
So this is how it ends…
The bracelet.
The legacy.
The Ren name.
All of it… taken in a moment of blindness.
Shame burned hotter than fear.
And as I fell to my knees, I understood something too late:
The war had never ended.
It had only been waiting.