Time seemed to freeze in the hall, and the birthday celebration for Iliran, which had moments ago been filled with joy and beauty, abruptly transformed into an atmosphere fraught with suspicion and threat. Guests exchanged anxious glances; some looked fearful, while others appeared skeptical. Whispers floated through the crowd. Perhaps the arrow was meant for someone else, someone whose angelic nature could be obliterated by such a weapon. Or maybe the next target still stood unwittingly among them. These thoughts hung heavy in the air, filling the hall with a sense of dread.

Everyone was terrified. No one could fathom what might happen next. Ryan, sensing the wave of panic and worry ripple through the crowd, stepped forward boldly and raised his voice, resonating throughout the hall. 

“Do not worry, no one intends to harm you. Now that the birthday has concluded, it is best we end the festivities here.” 

Ryan’s serious and commanding tone left no room for discussion. The attack had clearly shown him that he needed to disperse the frightened nobles as quickly as possible. He had no patience for their baseless fears and anxious reactions. Here, at the heart of this incident, something far more significant than their petty worries loomed.

He gently squeezed the broken silver arrow in his hand, his eyes drawn once again to the cold gleam of the metal.

Gradually, the crowd began to disperse as the noise subsided. The palace soldiers guided the nobles toward the exits in an orderly silence, ensuring no chaos erupted. Now, the space around Astia and Ryan fell silent, the heavy quiet broken only by the firm footsteps of departing guests.

In that moment, a maid rushed toward Astia, her face filled with concern. Before uttering a word, she enveloped Astia in a tight embrace. The familiar, soothing scent of the maid’s garment reached Astia, but no sense of security blossomed within her. Something inside her continued to tremble. She felt afraid, but not of the deadly attack; rather, it was the golden eyes lurking beneath that cloak. Those very eyes, which now began to sharpen in her memory, were far more terrifying than anything else.

In the maid's embrace, Astia struggled to breathe, as if she were suffocating. She fought to free herself from the hug, and when she finally pulled away, she inhaled deeply, panting hard.

The maid looked at her with concern and asked, “Princess, are you okay?”

Astia paused for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Yes… I’m fine.” Her voice was calm, but her truest feelings whispered otherwise.

Yet, she tried to maintain her composure, not wanting her anxiety to show. Astia was good at hiding her unease, but inside, a storm of memories and scattered fears raged.

Iliran and Arin rushed over to Astia. Without hesitation, Iliran began checking her physical condition, while Arin playfully pinched her cheeks.

“No, you look fine!” Arin said confidently.

Astia, annoyed by their behavior, protested loudly, “What are you two doing? Let me go, I’m fine!”

Both boys breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing her remark and calmed down a bit. However, Astia, while trying to keep her composure, scanned the surroundings, searching for Arks. Her mind was a jumble of thoughts; if Arks were not here, she might not have survived. This truth weighed heavily on her heart.

Still clutching the silver arrow, Ryan turned to Arin and asked seriously, “Where is your brother?”

Arin shrugged and said nonchalantly, “He was here, but he’s been standing off to the side watching since the beginning of the ceremony. He hasn’t come over to us, and now I can’t find him.”

Iliran, his gaze still fixed on Astia, said nervously, “If it weren’t for Arks, Astia might have been hurt, Father.”

Ryan responded with a heavy and affirmative tone, “Indeed.”

---

Arks was nowhere to be found. It was as if he had melted into the shadows, and no one knew anything of his whereabouts. This situation persisted for three long days, during which worry and anxiety engulfed everyone. No one could understand where a young boy could have disappeared, and this uncertainty cast a heavy pall over the palace.

Astia paced her room, feeling confused and restless. She chewed on her fingertips, a habit that always surfaced in moments of stress. But this time, her anxiety was so profound that she couldn’t hide it. Her mind was a whirlpool of chaotic thoughts and endless worries. If something happened to Arks, if he were hurt, all of Astia’s efforts to change her life would vanish. Arks was not just a boy; he was the key to Astia’s envisioned future.

No one knew of the secret bond between Arks Carnilimos and Astia. In a future that seemed so distant, Astia had been chosen as the Dark Angel, and this complicated destiny connected her to Arks, who had been chosen as her vessel. This bond was established through an ancient agreement, free from their own will.

The Dark Angel, just as her powers were immense and destructive, required a bond with a vessel able to maintain balance with those powers. Arks, with his mysterious nature and unique essence, was the ideal vessel for Astia. This preordained covenant not only intertwined their fates but also placed a heavy burden on both.

Now, with Arks missing and three days passing without any news, Astia could not free her mind from the reality that he was gone. All her plans for the future, all her hopes for change, hung precariously at risk. She understood clearly that without Arks, not only her future but her very destiny would be derailed.

As Astia continued to pace her room, chewing her fingertips, she could not shake the thought that Arks, despite his paramount significance, had somehow vanished unexpectedly and strangely. With the anxiety growing stronger by the moment, Astia recalled that Arks was not merely a part of her destiny; he was the focal point of all her future plans.

The connection between Astia and Arks went beyond an ordinary agreement; it was a bond defined as crucial for both of them. Without Arks, Astia would never be able to control her immense powers. Likewise, without Astia, Arks too would be incapable of harnessing the powers and the heavy curse he bore.

The curse that Arks carried was a dark legacy from his lineage. It had been passed down from his mother, but unlike his older brother, he was chosen to be the successor of this immense power. This force, while extraordinarily potent, carried lethal dangers. The curse particularly manifested in the women of the family, driving them to the brink of madness. However, for Arks, as an exception, this curse could only be controlled if a chosen one was by his side.

Astia, the chosen one for Arks, was the very support that could help him avoid insanity and maintain his balance. This relationship, rooted in a powerful necessity, bound them together like chains. But these chains were not only based on need; they were founded on responsibility and a destiny that both had to accept.

In Astia's previous life, her fate had been written differently. She was not initially meant to be Arks’s chosen one, nor was such a bond ever supposed to be formed between them. Her betrothed had been “Reinar Akumarin,” a man who was, in every sense of the word, utterly insane. The bitter memories of him still lingered in her mind; memories she could never forget. Reinar had beaten her on several occasions, and this violence was only a part of his obsessive tendencies.

Reinar had been so obsessed with Astia that he would not allow her to leave her room. Any behavior that didn’t align with his wishes was met with pain and punishment. But this cruelty didn’t stop with Astia; Reinar inflicted pain on those around him to torment her. These actions cast a heavy shadow of fear and hopelessness over Astia’s life.

Reinar was the commander of the demon empire's army and held a special place before Raphael, Astia’s grandfather. He was the favorite of her grandfather, which granted him significant power and influence. This influence placed Astia in a position where there was no escape from Reinar's clutches.

During Astia’s year staying at the royal palace of the Carnilimos family as the Dark Angel, this decision quickly drove Reinar into madness. He was aware of Arks’ existence, and this knowledge fueled his obsession and rage. Reinar could not stand the thought of Astia being near Arks, even if this proximity was part of her duty as the Dark Angel.

From the moment Arks first laid eyes on Astia, he became deeply enamored with her. Yet, he kept these feelings silent and hidden. He watched over Astia with a strange duality; on one hand, he tried to maintain his distance, and on the other, he was willing to endure any harm to ensure that nothing would happen to her. This behavior marked the first glimpse of Arks’ true nature—a character who, despite his cold and mysterious exterior, harbored a heart full of emotion and commitment.

However, this precarious balance shattered when Reinar attacked Arks in a psychotic rage. Astia could not bear to witness this scene and rushed forward to intervene. But in his blind fury and madness, Reinar struck Astia in the head with a teapot. This moment not only showcased Reinar’s boundless brutality, but it also marked a turning point where Arks began to transform into someone none could have anticipated.

Reinar’s death, the commander of the demon empire's army, fell into an enigma shrouded in mystery. His body, made of fire, perished in a devastating and mysterious fire on the very night of his welcome. This event was not only unbelievable but raised countless questions in everyone’s minds. How could someone whose essence was fire be consumed by flames?

For Astia, this incident transcended a mere death. This moment was her liberation from the clutches of Reinar—a man who had turned her life into an endless hell with his violence and twisted obsessions. With Reinar's death, the heavy chains suffocating Astia finally fell away. She could breathe, walk freely, and for the first time, taste the sweetness of liberation.

However, this freedom came with bitter questions. Was Reinar’s death an accident? Or perhaps an unknown force lay behind this incident? The flames that consumed him not only destroyed his flesh but cast a shadow of mystery and ambiguity over Astia’s fate and future.