The night was heavy with an unsettling silence that clung to the cold stone walls of the mage's stronghold. Torches flickered dimly, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch unnaturally, as if something hidden in the darkness was watching. Two mages stood outside a heavily sealed room, their eyes darting nervously toward the door. It was no ordinary door—etched with ancient runes, the heavy oak pulsed with an eerie glow, protected by layers of magic beyond comprehension.

The older mage, with his pointed hat and ornate staff, glanced at his companion, a younger mage who was noticeably trembling.

"Are you the one now appointed to guard this room?" asked the older mage, his voice thick with suspicion and curiosity. "Did the great Merlin himself choose you for this task?"

The younger mage swallowed hard, trying to muster confidence. His hand clenched around the wand hidden beneath his dark cloak. "Yes, I was assigned just after Merlin… passed. But I wasn't told much. Only that I must ensure that no one escapes from within. What's really behind this door?"

The older mage sighed deeply, leaning against his staff. "You don't know, do you? You've been sent here, with no real understanding of who or what you're guarding. Merlin must have left you in the dark before he died."

"All I know is that it's… a demon. A young one. His power is limited, but even so, if he escapes, he could kill everyone in the kingdom in seconds," the younger mage admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please, tell me the full story. I don't understand why we're so afraid of him."

"Well," the older mage began, his voice dropping lower, "it all started sixteen years ago, in the deepest pits of Hell. Lucifer himself had a son—a demon boy whose very birth shook the foundations of Hell. The shockwaves nearly cracked open the barrier between Hell and the human realm, threatening to expose us all."

The younger mage's eyes widened in disbelief. "His birth caused that much damage? How is that possible? He was only an infant!"

The older mage shook his head. "It wasn't just the strength of his birth. That was only the beginning. You see, when he turned eight, his power grew out of control. So wild, so destructive, that even Lucifer feared him. The boy nearly brought Hell to its knees. His father had no choice but to chain him—bind him with enchanted chains that suppressed his power. But even that wasn't enough. Lucifer sought out the great Merlin and made a deal to imprison the boy here, in the human realm."

The younger mage shuddered. "So… we're guarding him because his power is too great to control?"

"Exactly," the older mage confirmed, his eyes narrowing. "If those chains ever break, if his full power is ever unleashed…"

Before he could finish, a distant clang echoed through the corridor. Both mages straightened immediately, glancing at the sealed door.

"Something's wrong," the younger mage said, his voice quivering with fear. "Do you hear that?"

The older mage tightened his grip on his staff. "Stay calm. It's probably just the wind."

But the air in the hallway had grown cold, and a palpable sense of dread filled the room. Suddenly, a voice, smooth and cold, drifted through the air like a whisper carried on the wind.

"Very interesting. Your story is very interesting."

The younger mage's heart skipped a beat. His eyes widened, and his grip on his wand became white-knuckled. "W-who's there?" he stammered, backing away from the door.

"You know exactly who I am."

The voice seemed to echo from everywhere and nowhere at once. The younger mage's knees nearly buckled beneath him. He could feel the presence behind the door—dark, ancient, and immeasurably powerful. The very air seemed to hum with its energy.

"S-stay away from me," the younger mage whimpered, his voice barely audible. "Don't… don't come any closer."

But before the voice could respond, the sound of heavy footsteps approached from down the hall. The mages turned to see a group of knights, their armor clinking as they marched toward the door. At the front of the group was a tall knight, his armor gleaming in the dim torchlight. He had short, silver hair, a stern expression, and eyes that burned with quiet intensity. His armor was adorned with intricate symbols of the gods, marking him as one of the kingdom's most revered warriors.

"We've come for the demon," the knight announced, his voice cold and authoritative. He removed his helmet, revealing a chiseled face with a strong jawline. "The great Merlin is dead. We no longer trust you mages to contain him."

The younger mage's face turned pale. "No! The great Merlin's orders were clear. No one, not even your a kingdom, can claim him. He is our responsibility."

The knight raised an eyebrow, his gaze hardening. "You've seen what happens when demons are left unchecked. If you cannot control him, then we will."

Tension crackled in the air as both sides prepared for a confrontation. The mages, with their wands raised, stood ready to defend the demon's prison, while the knights, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords, were prepared to fight for control.

"We will not yield," the younger mage said, his voice trembling but resolute. "The great Merlin gave his life to ensure that demon stayed sealed. We cannot let you take him."

The knight's expression remained unreadable. "Then you leave us no choice."

In an instant, the hallway exploded into chaos. The knights charged, their swords gleaming as they clashed with the mages' spells. Fire and lightning crackled through the air, while the knights' weapons glowed with divine energy, granted to them by the gods they served. The battle was fierce and fast, with neither side willing to back down.

Amidst the chaos, one knight slipped away from the fray. He was younger than the others, with blue hair and a determined look in his eyes. His steps were quiet as he approached the sealed door. With trembling hands, he pulled a small vial from his belt—a vial of holy water, one of the few things that could break the ancient seals Merlin had placed on the door.

With a deep breath, the knight poured the holy water over the runes. To his shock, the runes flickered and then faded. The door creaked open, revealing… nothing.

The knight frowned, stepping cautiously into the room. "There's… no one here?" he muttered, glancing around the empty chamber. "Strange."

Unbeknownst to him, the demon was not gone. He had melded with the walls, hidden from view, watching the knight's every move. Slowly, the demon crept along the stone, a dark shadow against the dim light of the room. His crimson eyes glinted as he silently observed.

"I don't understand…" the knight muttered, turning back toward the door. "Everyone, fall back! There's nothing here."

The knights, hearing the call, began to retreat. The battle outside dwindled, and the mages, though wounded, stood victorious. But even as the knights marched away, the demon's plan had already begun.

With a swift movement, the demon burst from the wall, shattering the window as he leaped outside. His black hair whipped in the wind, and his crimson-red eyes glowed with fierce intensity. His clothes were torn and ragged, and his hands were still bound by heavy chains, the iron ball at the end clanking ominously as it struck the ground.

The shockwave from his landing rippled through the air, sending a powerful tremor through the ground. The knights stopped in their tracks, turning to see the figure standing on the outskirts of the fortress.

"I'm free," the demon whispered, his voice barely audible over the wind. Then, louder, he screamed into the night, his voice filled with both rage and triumph. "I'M FREE AT LAST!"

The knights stared in horror. They had no idea what they had just unleashed.