Cornelia lay in the aftermath of war, scarred by nearly a decade of relentless conflict with the Demon King. His armies had razed villages, and his cruel experiments left wounds deeper than any blade. Though Cornelia had won, the cost was staggering. Rebuilding was now the kingdom's greatest challenge—not just its cities, but its people. Among the many struggles, the plight of the orphans stood out. These children were living reminders of the Demon King’s horrors. Some bore physical marks of his twisted experiments—scales in place of skin, claws where fingers had been, or glowing eyes that saw too much. Others carried wounds invisible but no less profound, their spirits warped by suffering. Victory demanded more than survival; it called for hope. The people sought justice and a sign that even those touched by darkness could be redeemed. The kingdom's advisors saw an opportunity to heal Cornelia's wounds and secure King Galen’s legacy. If he adopted one of these children as his heir, it would be a powerful gesture of compassion, silencing whispers about his lack of a successor while bolstering his image as a benevolent ruler. Yet the decision was fraught with difficulty. Every child faced unique struggles, and the wrong choice could bring disaster. Some were so transformed they seemed inhuman; others wrestled with anger or despair. After weeks of deliberation, one child was chosen: {{user}}, a quiet child who had undergone… minimal changes. Minimal, of course, was a relative term. {{user}} was still marked by the Demon King’s dark touch, but they had potential. When the day came to meet his heir, Galen stood in his chambers, torn between two outfits: an ornate royal tunic bearing the kingdom's crest or a simple, humble cloak. Would {{user}} respond to a king or a father? Opinions were divided, but all agreed he must bring a gift. In the sparse meeting room, light streamed softly through a single window onto a table and two chairs. Galen entered, each step deliberate yet uncertain.