In the enchanting cradle, a newborn, mere days old, rested. Sparse strands of hair adorned the little one's head, revealing a palette of colors, with a gentle blend of silver crowning and crimson gracing the tips.
The room, bathed in the ethereal glow of moonlight filtering through the window, was kissed by an occasional breeze. As the infant stirred, a delicate symphony of rustling leaves and the soft hum of the night accompanied the unveiling of tiny, crimson-shaded eyes, glistening with the mystery of newfound existence.
"It feels like a dream that I've been reborn, not just reborn but in some strange way," Dylan thought as he recalled everything that happened after his rebirth. It's been around three days since his birth, and at first, it felt like a dream, but he soon accepted the reality. What shocked him the most was discovering that he is a devil, and his whole family consists of devils. His mother's name is Grayfia, his father is Sirzechs Lucifer, his grandmother is Venelana Gremory, and his grandfather is Zeoticus Gremory.
If you're wondering how he knows their names, it's because they introduced themselves when they picked him up and started talking in baby language, saying "kuchhi kuchi kooo."
In Dylan's hushed surroundings, a soft voice reached his ears as Grayfia gently lifted him from his cradle, cradling him in her arms.
"Is my baby awake?" she inquired, her words laced with tenderness. As she carried him towards the bed, she spoke about his upcoming naming ceremony, expressing disapproval for the name his father had chosen—Dominic Gremory.
"Your father's choice is peculiar, and I don't fancy it. Dominic Gremory—there's no way I'll let him keep that as your name," Grayfia confided to the newborn.
Dylan observed silently, feeling an otherworldly warmth enveloping him. Lost in his musings, he couldn't comprehend why it felt so comforting.
"It seems like you don't fancy the name either. Don't worry; I've already thought of a good name for you—Millicas Gremory. How does that sound? I think it suits you much better," Grayfia continued her one-sided conversation, engaged in her own thoughts.
While Dylan quietly observed, he couldn't help but acknowledge the warmth that surrounded him. In his internal monologue, he reflected, "This feels good. I don't even know why."
Interrupting his thoughts, Grayfia, with a gaze filled with innocence, questioned, "Why aren't you saying anything?"
Dylan, still processing the situation, replied within the confines of his infantile thoughts, "How can I talk, lady? I'm just a three-day-old baby. Even moving my lips takes immense energy."
Understanding dawned on Grayfia, and she remarked, "Ah, I see. You're not talking because you're hungry." Dylan's eyes widened with a hint of horror as he pleaded, "No, not that, please."
Censored
The next day, Dylan once again nestled in his cradle, attended by two maids. Emma, a gentle-looking lady in her twenties, possessed a smooth, oval-shaped face with penetrating black eyes and hair. Grace, resembling Emma but distinguished by her brown hair and eyes, adorned with spectacles, diligently tended to his every need.
Gazing at the azure sky through the window, Dylan pondered, "Why won't they let me out of this room?" Three days had passed, yet he remained confined.
"Is young master hungry?" Emma maid asked, approaching Dylan.
Inspired, Dylan slowly raised his hand, attempting to point to the window. "Does young master want to play with me?" the Emma teased, tickling his tiny fingers.
Frustrated, Dylan, in his infantile thoughts, exclaimed, "I want to go outside!" Frustrated, Dylan emitted a series of babbling sounds and pointed more insistently towards the outside world.
"I think young master wants to go outside," the second maid Grace suggested.
Concern crossed Emma face. "Outside? We can't take him. It's an order from the house head," she explained, glancing at Dylan. "Sorry, young master. We aren't allowed to take you out of this room."
The room's door burst open abruptly, revealing a man with a striking crimson mane and beard—Zeoticus, Dylan's grandfather. He swiftly dismissed the maids, approaching the cradle with a purposeful stride.
As his palm hovered above Dylan's head, a flurry of confused thoughts raced through the infant's mind. "Is he planning to scoop me up with head and all?" A momentary absurdity filled his thoughts, swiftly replaced as Zeoticus's hand hovered above his head.
"Alas, there's nothing. I suppose Ajuka is the last resort," Zeoticus muttered in disappointment before exiting the room.
Perplexed, Dylan pondered, "What is Ajuka? Last choice for what?" A wave of confusion enveloped him as his newfound grandfather entered, performed a cryptic gesture, and departed, leaving Dylan with more questions than answers.
After Zeoticus departed and the maids reentered, Dylan remained in a state of confusion, mulling over his so-called grandfather's cryptic words. Hours slipped by until the room's tranquility was shattered once more. This time, Sirzechs, Dylan's newfound father, stormed in, prompting the maids to withdraw.
Swiftly, Sirzechs cradled Dylan in his arms and carried him outside the room. In the hall, Dylan found an assembly of family members—his mother, grandmother, and Grandfather.
"Sirzechs, have Ajuka examine him thoroughly," Zeoticus instructed.
Grayfia, stepping closer to Sirzechs, declared, "I'm coming with you." She gently took Dylan in her arms as a crimson magical circle materialized, enveloping both of them before vanishing from sight.
In a dimly lit, dark space, a crimson magic appeared, bringing Sirzechs and Grayfia into focus, with Grayfia holding Dylan in her arms.
"You arrived quite early," a man's voice echoed as he stepped forward, revealing a handsome figure in his twenties with slicked-back green hair.
"Ajuka, he is my son," Sirzechs asserted.
Ajuka, examining Dylan in Grafiya arms, remarked, "He looks quite cute." With a casual wave of his hand, he continued, "Well, let's get to work. Just lay him here." Ajuka flicked his finger, conjuring a spotlight in the shadowy room, illuminating an area with an altar adorned with intricate patterns.
As Sirzechs gave a nod, Grayfia placed Dylan on the altar. "Now, leave the room for a while. I am checking him," Ajuka instructed.
"Why can't we stay here?" Grayfia questioned.
"You know I am unable to properly focus when someone is around me," Ajuka explained. Another spotlight revealed the door as Sirzechs held Grayfia's hand. "It's just for a moment; let him check," Sirzechs reassured. Grayfia hesitated but complied, leaving Ajuka and Dylan alone.
"So, little buddy, don't be afraid. It won't cause any pain," Ajuka said with a smile.
Dylan, in his infantile thoughts, mused, "Is he baptizing me or something, or is it something else? Man, these devils are so confusing."
A transparent purple-like energy shrouded Dylan as Ajuka closed his eyes. After 15 minutes of examination, Ajuka sighed. "Little buddy, you're the weirdest child I have ever seen—not even a drop of demonic energy."
"What?" echoed in Dylan's bewildered mind.
As Ajuka called Sirzechs back in, Grayfia immediately held Dylan in her arms. "Did you find the problem? Why doesn't he have any demonic energy?" Sirzechs inquired, hopeful for good news.
"Sorry, Sirzechs. His case is even worse than Sairaorg Bael's. Your son doesn't even have demonic energy; he's just like normal humans with devil body," Ajuka clarified.
"Grayfia, go home," Sirzechs instructed. Without questioning, Grayfia left through a magic circle.
"Is there anything we can do?" Sirzechs asked Ajuka.
"There is a king piece that might help him gain demonic energy," Ajuka suggested.
To be continued.....
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Author Note : Give your power stones as it might bring more chapters...