Chapter Four: The Awakening of Truth
Edward was awakened by a voice—calm, steady, and devoid of any human warmth.
"It is time to wake up, Master… Breakfast is ready."
He slowly opened his right eye, while the other half of the world remained submerged in eternal darkness. For a few seconds, he couldn't remember where he was. Then, it all came rushing back: his father, the ring, the blood, the pain… and Tula.
He sat on the bed, clenching his teeth, then stood up heavily. The mansion was unusually quiet, as if the walls themselves were watching him. He walked to the dining room, where the table was arranged with excessive care—a simple yet elegant breakfast, indicating discipline rather than generosity.
Edward sat down and took a small, listless bite. His mind was not on the food, but on the question that had been gnawing at his chest since last night: What now? There was no father left, no money, and no name to protect him. Only a ring on his finger and a demon claiming submission.
He looked up and said in a low, sharp voice: "What do we do now, Tula?"
Tula stopped moving and turned slowly. He looked at Edward with a scrutinizing gaze, as if seeing not his body, but what lay behind it. He spoke with calculated calmness: "You must know your enemies, Master… but before that, you must possess the capacity for revenge."
He paused for a moment, then continued with a harsher tone: "Knowledge without the capacity for action is worthless. It is a burden, not a weapon."
Edward clenched his fist. "And what do you mean by 'capacity'?"
Tula took one step closer. "Intelligence first. To think before you strike. Strength second—not to fight, but to be feared. And skills… many more than you can imagine. Trade, negotiation, lying, patience, and even controlling your fear."
Edward's voice suddenly rose, an explosion of what had been pent up inside him: "And why must I do all of this? Are you not here to serve me? Did we not forge a covenant? Do it for me!"
Silence fell. In that moment… Tula changed. His eyes flickered with a dark crimson, a color not of anger, but of warning. Edward felt the air suddenly grow heavy; his body froze in place, unable to move or even breathe. For a few seconds… he thought he would die.
Then Tula slowly closed his eyes, and everything returned to normal. He opened them again, the terrifying flicker gone, replaced by a coldness even more lethal. He spoke in a voice calm to the point of cruelty: "The agreement was clear, Edward Ferguson. I protect you. I attend to your affairs. I ensure you remain alive." Then he added, without blinking: "But I am not responsible for your revenge… nor for reclaiming your family's glory."
Tula stood up, turned his back, and began gathering the dishes as if nothing had happened. His footsteps were quiet, ordinary… and that is what made it more terrifying. Edward remained seated, his body trembling in silence. In that moment… he realized the truth. He had been deceived. He remembered the night he lost his eye. He remembered the pain, the darkness, and his own voice agreeing without thought.
He had given up his most precious possession… without ensuring the return.
He whispered to himself, bitterness choking his voice: "So… I lost my eye for nothing."
But deep inside, beneath the fear and regret, something new was born. A cold determination… not like anger, but beyond it. He slowly raised his head, looked at Tula's back, and thought to himself: (If you will not seek revenge for me… then I will do it myself. And I will make you witness it.