CHAPTER 155: CHAPTER 155: RITUAL FOR THE LIVING

Cassian had barely stepped into the etiquette hall when the shout stopped him cold.

"You—YOU’RE STILL ALIVE?!"

His lips pressed into a thin line.

Veyce. Of course it was him.

Cassian turned his head slowly, meeting Veyce’s wide eyes. The other boy looked at him like he was a ghost. Like Cassian’s presence in the room was some kind of offense against nature. But it wasn’t just shock in his voice; it almost sounded like, How dare he still be alive?

Cassian rolled his eyes and walked to his usual seat, not even bothering to answer. He had too many things running through his mind—his sister, the letter, the way Dareth handed it over like it was no big deal. He didn’t have the patience to deal with Veyce’s morning drama.

But of course, Veyce wasn’t going to drop it that easily.

He left his chair and rushed over to sit beside Cassian. His eyes were wide with disbelief. "Are you real?" he whispered, reaching out and poking Cassian’s arm like he might dissolve if touched.

Cassian stared at him.

Then Veyce sniffed and wiped at his face, though there were no tears at all. "I thought the Supreme Lord’s guards took you somewhere deep in the demon realm to... to slaughter you! I even thought maybe they wouldn’t leave a single bone behind!" His voice shook, though it felt more dramatic than genuine.

Cassian raised an eyebrow, not sure whether to laugh or hit him.

"You don’t know how sad I was," Veyce added, placing a hand on his chest with all the flair of a bad actor.

Out of the corner of Cassian’s eye, he noticed the other two in the room had stopped what they were doing. Sylen had lowered his book, his usual smirk gone, and Enira was watching him with narrowed eyes, her nails forgotten.

Great. Now he had all their attention.

As if they too wanted to figure out how he was still breathing.

They were all there when Cassian was taken. They saw the Supreme Lord’s guards drag him away after he—stupidly—spoke too casually in front of him. They probably thought that was the last they’d ever see of him.

And maybe it should have been.

Cassian sighed, brushing off Veyce’s hand. "I’m fine," he said, forcing a smile. "Nothing happened. See?"

"But they took you," Veyce insisted. "They never take anyone unless..."

"He just warned me," Cassian cut in. "Told me to follow the rules since I’m new here. That’s all."

It sounded weak even to him.

And by the way, all three of them stared at him; he could tell they didn’t believe a word.

Everyone in the demon realm knew the Supreme Lord’s temper. No one challenged him and walked away. No one even talked back unless they were one of the Four Demon Kings. If anyone else crossed the line... well, they didn’t live to regret it.

And yet here he was.

Breathing and still wearing silks instead of chains.

Cassian saw Veyce’s face twist in confusion, and he had to look away before he laughed bitterly in his mind. How could I explain this to you, my little friend? he thought. I came here through the back door. I don’t belong to your world, not really. Maybe that’s why I was spared...

But he couldn’t say that out loud.

Veyce wouldn’t understand.

And Cassian didn’t want to explain.

Suddenly, Veyce gasped like he just remembered something important. "Hey! I even performed the ritual for your peace!"

"...What?" Cassian blinked at him.

"You know, the one we do when someone dies a brutal death. It’s custom in the demon realm. If you loved someone and they died badly, you perform the soul ritual to help them rest peacefully."

Veyce looked proud.

Cassian stared at him in disbelief.

"You performed a death ritual. For me," he said slowly.

Veyce nodded with a big smile. "Yes! I even borrowed incense from the temple quarters. The smoke nearly killed me, but I didn’t stop. I said your name three times under the moon. It was very emotional."

Cassian’s eye twitched.

He wanted to beat the life out of him.

He was alive, sitting right beside him, and this idiot had been out there lighting incense and sending his soul to the afterlife.

"You’re unbelievable," he muttered, rubbing his temples.

Veyce just beamed.

"I knew you’d come back," he said cheerfully. "Even the priest said if someone returns after a ritual, it means their spirit wasn’t ready to leave."

"I didn’t die," Cassian growled. "There was no spirit. I was just in another room."

"Oh," Veyce blinked. "Well, still. Welcome back."

Cassian sighed, rubbing his temples to relieve the headache.

But he had barely recovered from Veyce’s ridiculous soul-ritual story when the sound of approaching footsteps made him lift his head.

Enira, the demon lady with obsidian curls and eyes like polished amber, sauntered over with that same calculating grace she always carried. Right behind her came Sylen, the fae with silver lashes and a lazy smile that never quite reached his eyes.

"Well," Enira said, crossing her arms and eyeing him with interest. "Back from the dead?"

Cassian sighed inwardly. "Apparently."

Sylen gave a low whistle and leaned against the desk beside him. "I’ve seen a lot of things in my life," he said, his tone half-mocking, half-curious. "But I’ve never seen someone taken by his guards and come back breathing. Do you have a twin we don’t know about?"

"Or maybe a hidden royal bloodline?" Enira added, smirking. "You know, something that would make the Supreme Lord show mercy."

Cassian didn’t answer. He just gave a shrug, calm on the outside while his mind turned rapidly inside. Unlike Veyce, these two weren’t gullible. Their eyes were sharp.

They were looking at him like a puzzle that didn’t fit the rules of the realm.

And maybe... they were right to.

Because no one with a working brain believed that the Supreme Lord simply "warned" a newcomer.

Cassian had never seen it, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t heard of it. Those who stepped out of line disappeared and were erased without a sound. The halls whispered of punishments that were swift, brutal, and final, with no second chances.

And yet here he was.

Even if Veyce had chosen to believe his excuse, the others clearly didn’t. They were just too polite or cautious to say it outright.

Something was going on behind the scenes.

And everyone could feel it.

Cassian sat straighter, keeping his expression even. He had already drawn enough attention for one morning.

Just then, the doors at the far end of the room creaked open, and the sharp click of boots echoed across the polished floor.

Their etiquette instructor had arrived.