The sun had long dipped below the distant peaks of the Underworld's false sky, casting the estate in a cool, quiet calm. Most of the servants had retired for the night, and the halls were lit only by enchanted lanterns that flickered with soft blue flame.
Ryuji wandered alone.
Selena's words echoed in his mind—"Your bloodline is… different."
He had spent most of the day reading old tomes in the estate's library, searching for any mention of Fate Magic, of the Albion family's research, but found nothing of real substance. Every book seemed… curated. Clean. Too clean. It was as if someone had deliberately erased any controversial history.
That only made him more suspicious.
And now, here he was, following a strange pull—like an itch at the back of his mind. A whisper only he could hear.
His footsteps echoed down a rarely used hallway on the east wing of the mansion. Dust coated the shelves, and the air smelled of old parchment and forgotten time. At the very end stood a large painting: a regal devil in obsidian armor, his crimson eyes piercing through the canvas.
Ryuji stared into those eyes—and felt the pull.
He stepped forward and ran his hand across the edge of the frame. There—a slight groove. A hidden switch?
Click.
With a soft rumble, the painting shifted, revealing a spiral staircase descending into darkness.
"Well, that's not suspicious at all," Ryuji muttered, already moving.
Below the Mansion – Hidden Archives
The air was colder here. Ancient. Arcane. The stairs opened into a vast underground chamber, the walls lined with glowing runes and towering bookshelves. Unlike the estate above, this place was untouched by time.
In the center of the chamber stood a stone pedestal. Resting atop it was a thick leather-bound tome, its cover marked with the Albion family crest—and beneath it, a symbol Ryuji didn't recognize. It looked like an ouroboros… but the snake's eye was a clock.
He approached slowly and placed his hand on the book.
The moment his fingers touched it, a wave of magic surged into him. Images flashed through his mind—experiments, spells, diagrams of magical threads interweaving through people's lives. Visions of devils reaching into the tapestry of fate and… altering it.
The book pulsed once, then opened on its own.
The title page read:
"The Art of Temporal Weaving: The Lost Theory of Fatecraft"
His breath caught in his throat.
This was it. This was what they'd hidden. His ancestors had been developing magic that could not only predict fate but manipulate it—subtly influencing decisions, creating ideal outcomes, even rewriting the course of events at critical moments. It wasn't time travel, not exactly. It was more like reprogramming destiny itself.
Ryuji flipped through the pages. Most of it was incomprehensible—dense spell circles, philosophical rants about free will and probability. But some of it made sense. Enough to begin.
And then, tucked in the back, he found something else—a crystal orb set into a hidden compartment. The moment he touched it, a spectral figure appeared. A hologram of a devil woman with long silver hair and sharp violet eyes.
"My son… if you're seeing this, then you are the last of our line."
Ryuji froze.
"This chamber was sealed to protect you from the world—and to protect the world from what we discovered. Fatecraft is not a tool. It is a responsibility. One wrong thread, one careless change, and everything unravels. But if you're anything like me… I know you'll master it."
The projection faded, and Ryuji stood in silence.
His hands tightened into fists. "So this is what they were afraid of…"
Not power. Not destruction. Control.
He looked back at the book, his mind already racing with ideas. With his intelligence and extreme growth ability, this wasn't just a tool—it was a path to reshaping the entire balance of power in the Underworld.
But first… he had to master it.
And that started now.