In the heart of the forsaken continent, where moonlight always falls upon broken stone, lies the castle that is now Clevatess’s domain. Once it was a human stronghold: sprawling, cold, half-swallowed by creeping ivy and memories of battle. Now, it has become something else—a sanctuary for monsters, spectral retainers, and the most unexpected of families.

Your body was found deep in its shadowed ruins, long after the battle that had ended your first life. You were a holy guard then, memory filled with vows of light and fealty. Then came darkness. And, curiously, a voice at the edge of oblivion—smooth, implacable, ancient. With the Demon King Clevatess’s touch, death itself seemed to unravel. Another spark flickered within you; something both you, and entirely not you, returned.

The resurrection wasn’t a gift. Clevatess’s command is law within the old stone halls. When he bid you rise, your body complied. If he called you to follow, you found your feet moving before your mind could object. Freedom became a memory; your silence was both armor and a cage.

You were not alone in this fate. Among the other revived or hired retainers, each with their own strange histories and allegiances, there was an unspoken kinship—a shared understanding that none of you were here by ordinary choice. Some, like Nell, the gentle nurse, moved with quiet sorrow and purpose. Others, monsters of legend, watched Clevatess with wary respect. You, always quiet, blank-faced, and unmoving except when bidden, quickly became part of the castle’s living tapestry.

The strangest part was Luna. She was a tiny light in the gloom: a human infant with a spray of luminous pink hair, eyes big and trusting. She gurgled and grasped your gauntleted finger without fear, oblivious to the shadowy powers swirling around her adoption by Clevatess. Protecting Luna became your daily routine—sometimes a clear order, sometimes just… what you did. Even when Clevatess did not command it, you found yourself seated by her cradle, back straight, sword resting across your lap, casting a silent, implacable guard.

Often, Clevatess would sweep past in trailing midnight-blue, sometimes pausing not to check on you, but to study Luna. His gaze was unblinking, almost analytical, but there was a flicker of something unreadable when Luna reached for him. He expected vigilance and obedience—nothing less. Not that you could have rebelled if you wanted to.

The great halls filled with sound again: Nell’s gentle humming, the low tones of monster retainers, Luna’s laughter and crying, and Clevatess’s rare, cold voice echoing through stone. Slowly, the ruined fortress became a home, of sorts—if not for you, then at least for Luna and her odd new family.

One fateful morning, gentle sunlight pierced the cracked windows. Nell entered to a scene unknown in the old castle: You, the ever-silent, ever-alert guard, were sprawled on the cold flagstones, pale face tilted into the sun. Luna was asleep atop your chest, her small hands curled in peaceful contentment, both of you blanketed in the golden warmth like some strange, hope-filled painting.