(Hestia's POV)
The moment I stepped through the academy gates, I felt him.
Not chaos.
Not rage.
Control.
The non-human academy stood like a quiet lie—polished stone, disciplined order, students walking in neat groups as if darkness itself had learned manners. To human eyes, it would have looked like an elite private school. To mine, it was a meeting ground of creatures who should never have been allowed to coexist so peacefully.
I kept my expression calm.
In this world, I wore a human body—dark hair falling straight down my back, ordinary eyes, ordinary clothes. Nothing about me glowed. Nothing announced what I truly was.
That was intentional.
"Guests will remain on the upper balcony," a staff member said firmly. "The principal will address you shortly."
Important guests. Observers. Outsiders.
Not protected.
Not welcomed.
I preferred it that way.
As I moved forward, conversations softened. Eyes followed me—curious, calculating, wary. They sensed something different, even if they couldn't name it.
Then the courtyard shifted.
Not physically.
Energetically.
Students straightened. Voices lowered. Even the air seemed to pull inward, like it was making room for something it respected.
Footsteps approached.
"Make way."
The voice was calm, commanding, young.
"Good morning, Young Master."
Every instinct in me went rigid.
I turned.
He walked at the center of them—not rushed, not dramatic. Dark uniform, immaculate. Black hair, sharp eyes, a presence that did not demand attention yet claimed it anyway. Three others flanked him, clearly powerful, clearly loyal.
Prince.
I didn't need my divine sight.
I knew him instantly.
Azarel.
Prince of Hell.
My target.
So this is you, I thought, my pulse steady despite the shock.
Not a beast. Not a tyrant. But a ruler in training.
Students bowed their heads slightly as he passed. Even teachers stepped aside. No fear. No hatred.
Respect.
That made no sense.
I watched him carefully, scanning for the corruption I had been sent to stop—the twisting of emotions, the rot in love's balance.
But instead of chaos, I felt… restraint.
Why?
Our eyes met.
For a fraction of a second, the world narrowed.
There was recognition in his gaze—not surprise, not confusion.
Awareness.
He knows, I realized.
He knows exactly what I am.
I broke eye contact first.
Why are you here? I asked silently.
Why does love weaken wherever your shadow touches?
This wasn't how it was supposed to be.
The imbalance in the human world was real. Hearts were breaking without reason. Bonds were unraveling. And every thread led back to Hell.
To him.
Yet the Prince of Hell stood among his peers like a model heir, untouched by scandal, surrounded by loyalty instead of ruin.
Something was wrong.
And for the first time since receiving my mission, doubt crept in—not about who he was…
…but about why he was doing it