Kaelthar woke slowly.
His consciousness surfaced like small ripples on the surface of calm water—not sudden, not sharp, but gradually expanding until it filled his mind.
The first thing he felt was not sound or light, but something far simpler.
Warmth.
The warmth came from beneath his back, from the soft cloth supporting his small body. The air around him was calm—not too cold, not too warm. His body felt heavy in a pleasant way, like something that had just rested for a long time.
He opened his eyes.
The ceiling of the room slowly appeared before him. Light wood with delicate patterns intertwined across its surface. The lines were not still—his small eyes followed their curves, moving slowly from one side to the other.
Some time ago—or perhaps much longer than that—he might not have noticed such things.
But now his mind was not in a hurry.
He simply looked.
A soft voice came from the side.
Seraphina.
Kaelthar did not yet fully understand human words, but the woman’s voice had become something familiar to him. Her tone always carried a certain pattern—gentle, rising slightly at the end of each sentence, like the soothing flow of water.
He turned his head.
The small movement felt heavy for his neck, but he managed it.
Seraphina sat near a large window, morning light falling across her golden hair. In her hands something moved slowly—a piece of cloth she folded carefully.
Light.
Kaelthar watched it.
The sunlight entering through the window was not still. It moved with the tiny dust drifting in the air, forming sparkling points that floated slowly.
His eyes followed one speck.
It drifted down.
Down again.
Until it finally settled near his tiny hand.
Kaelthar opened his fingers.
The light did not stop.
It simply danced across his skin, warm and weightless.
He tried to catch it.
His hand moved quickly—or at least it felt quick to him.
But the light always slipped away.
His small face tightened slightly.
Not in anger.
Only confusion.
His hand tried again.
The movement was still imperfect. The small muscles in his arms often moved too fast or too slow. But this time he touched something different.
Cloth.
The thin blanket beneath him.
He squeezed it.
The texture immediately sent a soft sensation into the tips of his fingers.
His thoughts paused for a moment.
This sensation…
was different from fire.
Fire bit.
Fire stung.
Fire made his body—his former body—tremble with strength.
But this…
was soft.
Calm.
No power came from it.
Only sensation.
He pressed the cloth again.
And again.
Each pressure created a slightly different feeling.
His mind recorded it.
Not with words.
But with experience.
“Awake already?” Seraphina’s voice came again.
A large shadow approached.
The woman’s face appeared above him, smiling warmly.
Kaelthar looked at her.
He no longer tried to analyze human expressions the way he once did. He simply recognized the pattern that often appeared on this face.
A smile meant something good would come.
Usually food.
Or an embrace.
Or both.
Seraphina lifted his small body.
The world changed angles.
The ceiling moved away.
The window shifted.
The light grew brighter.
Kaelthar did not resist.
He had grown accustomed to these changes.
His small body leaned against Seraphina’s chest, hearing something that was always there.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
The rhythm was constant.
More stable than anything he had ever known in the demon world.
Seraphina walked toward the window.
Morning air brushed against Kaelthar’s cheeks.
He drew in a small breath.
This air was different.
There was no smell of blood.
No scent of fear.
No emotions pulsing like food.
Only the scent of grass.
Wood.
And something soft he could not name.
Seraphina opened the window wider.
More light entered.
And for the first time since he had been reborn—
Kaelthar saw the world outside.
Beyond the palace walls lay a vast garden filled with color.
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Green.
Red.
Yellow.
The wind moved through the leaves, making everything sway gently.
His eyes widened.
This was not the world he knew.
The demon world had always been heavy.
Its sky was dark.
Its soil black.
Fire was everywhere.
But here…
the world felt light.
Seraphina laughed softly when she saw his expression.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” she said.
Kaelthar had heard that word before.
In a life that now felt very distant, humans often said it. They would gaze at the sky, at flowers, or at something shining, and say the same word.
Beautiful.
But back then, the word had meant nothing to him.
In the demon world, only one thing truly had value: emotion.
Fear.
Hatred.
Anger.
Other things—colors, light, shapes—were empty objects.
They gave no strength.
They gave no nourishment.
They had no meaning.
So when humans called something beautiful, Kaelthar had once heard only the sound of the word.
But now—
he felt something inside his chest.
Not power.
Not hunger.
Not the urge to destroy or conquer.
Something far quieter.
He did not know that humans called that feeling beauty.
He reached out his hand toward the window.
The air touched his fingers.
Cool.
Alive.
Moving.
He moved his hand again, trying to catch the wind the way he had tried to catch the light earlier.
Of course, he failed.
But this time he was not disappointed.
He simply tried again.
Somewhere deep inside him, old memories still existed.
Of war.
Of hellfire.
Of a towering black throne.
Of a world that understood only strength.
But those memories felt…
distant.
Like shadows at the bottom of murky water.
They no longer felt important.
Not compared to the wind touching his hand.
Kaelthar closed his fingers.
The air slipped through them again.
But he did not stop trying.
Because for the first time in his existence—
the world was no longer something to conquer.
The world was something to explore.
And he had only just begun.
_________
_________
The Demon King stood upon his black throne, his colossal body radiating an unquestionable aura of authority. His crimson eyes burned like embers as they swept across his children who filled the vast hall with cold, silent gazes.
“My children,” his voice echoed throughout the chamber, heavy with power that made the very floor seem to tremble. “You are all my blood, the potential heirs to this throne. But this throne is not inherited like the worthless possessions of weak humans.”
“Only the strongest has the right to claim it.”
All the demon children listened in silence. Some wore tense expressions, while others stared at the Demon King with envy—or even hatred. Yet none were foolish enough to voice their thoughts before their ruler.
The Demon King continued, his voice growing colder.
“You are free.”
“Free to challenge me whenever you wish.”
“Free to raise your blades against your own father.”
“Free to attempt to seize this throne from me.”
His gaze swept across the hall, observing every child who dared meet his eyes.
“But,” he added sharply, “if you do so, prepare yourselves for the consequences.”
“I will not hold back.”
“I will not show mercy.”
“And I will not hesitate to kill you.”
The atmosphere in the hall grew unbearably heavy, as if each of the Demon King’s words placed an invisible weight upon them.
The younger children trembled openly, while the older and stronger ones remained standing with cold expressions.
The Demon King slowly rose from his throne. Beneath the red glow emanating from the floor of the hall, his massive form seemed even larger.
He raised one hand.
In an instant, an overwhelming force of hatred erupted from him.
A wave of dark energy swept across the hall like an unstoppable storm. The air itself seemed to shatter under the immense pressure, forcing several demon children to collapse to their knees immediately.
The Demon King stood with absolute authority, releasing his hatred across the hall.
The wave of black energy filled with killing intent crashed into his children like a raging storm. The air grew heavy, suffocating their lungs, while the pressure seeped deep into their souls.
Aurelia—trapped inside Kaelthar’s body—felt her entire being engulfed in unbearable pain.
The dark energy did not only assault her body—it shook her instincts.
She fell to her knees, grinding her teeth as she struggled to endure.
The pain nearly forced her to surrender.
Yet beneath that pain, she sensed something far more terrifying.
A surge rising from within her demon body.
Something inside her stirred.
A foreign instinct awakened under the crushing pressure.
It whispered within her mind like a malicious voice, provoking her to act.
Surpass his power…
Take control…
Kill him…
Destroy the weak…
Aurelia froze.
The voice was so clear it felt like hearing another version of herself—one completely consumed by darkness.
Her body trembled, but not only from the Demon King’s pressure.
Something inside her had changed.
I could kill him, she thought for a brief moment.
I could kill this Demon King.
Take his throne.
Use that power to rule over the weak.
I could become a ruler feared by all.
The vision felt frighteningly real.
She could imagine herself standing atop the Demon King’s throne, watching countless beings kneel beneath her.
Unlimited power.
Unshakable authority.
Everything within reach.
But then her gaze shifted.
She saw Anna.
The woman lay beside her, barely moving.
The Demon King’s oppressive hatred had crushed Anna’s fragile human body, leaving her on the brink of destruction.
The gray eyes that once held life now looked hollow and fragile.
The sight struck Aurelia like lightning.
What am I thinking?!
Disgust toward herself surged violently.
She clenched her teeth, forcing the terrifying vision away.
The demon instincts within her body might crave violence and domination.
But her soul—the soul of Aurelia, the Holy Queen—could never accept such a path.
I will not become like them, she swore silently, even as her body trembled on the verge of collapse.
With the last of her strength, Aurelia channeled her power.
She created a thin protective barrier around Anna, desperately resisting the crushing pressure.
The barrier trembled under the Demon King’s overwhelming force, but it held.
Anna remained alive.
Yet every second of maintaining the shield drained Aurelia’s energy further.
Kaelthar’s body weakened.
Her breathing grew heavier.
Still, she refused to surrender.
Even as her body nearly collapsed, she maintained the shield.
Around her, other young demon children were not as fortunate.
Several who were too weak collapsed instantly.
Their eyes turned empty.
They died under the Demon King’s pressure as easily as insects crushed underfoot.
The Demon King merely glanced at them coldly.
No pity.
No grief.
To him, they were nothing but failures—burdens unworthy of living in this world.
When the pressure finally faded, silence fell over the hall.
The Demon King lowered his hand, and the suffocating hatred gradually dissipated.
But its aftermath remained.
Most of the demon children lay motionless on the floor.
Some survivors, trembling violently, struggled to stand.
Others never rose again.
Aurelia, weak and breathing heavily, lifted her head to look around.
Beside her, Anna still lived.
Though fragile, she had survived thanks to the barrier.
But what Aurelia saw next made her blood run cold.
The surviving siblings showed no sorrow for the dead.
They glanced at the corpses briefly before turning their attention back to the Demon King.
On their faces she saw something horrifying.
Pride.
Ambition.
And endless hunger for power.
This is their world, Aurelia thought.
This is Kaelthar’s world.
In their expressions she saw the same demonic instinct that had tried to overwhelm her earlier.
No empathy.
No mercy.
To them, strength was everything.
Death was merely the cost of approaching power.
Morthak, one of the eldest siblings, stood proudly at the front.
He looked at the Demon King with a sly smile, as if the earlier pressure had been nothing more than a game.
He even stepped forward and kicked the corpse of one of the fallen siblings before returning to his place.
“The dead have no right to stand here,” he said coldly.
No one argued.
Some nodded slightly.
Others remained silent in agreement.
Aurelia felt nauseous.
This world was everything she had once opposed.
The Demon King observed his remaining children with satisfaction.
His crimson gaze briefly shifted toward Aurelia.
He seemed to notice the barrier protecting Anna.
“Kaelthar,” he said, his voice carrying something almost like interest.
“You chose to protect something weak… even at the cost of your own strength.”
Aurelia looked up and met the Demon King’s eyes.
Her thoughts raced for an answer.
But the anger burning within her was too powerful to suppress.
She had just watched younger siblings die helplessly under the Demon King’s pressure.
Children who had never even been strong enough to defend themselves.
This world—its rules—everything about it felt wrong.
Anger, disgust, and guilt collided within her.
In that moment, she lost control.
With a voice full of fury she did not realize she possessed, Aurelia declared:
“I don’t care what you think about weakness or strength!”
“I will become the strongest demon!”
“I will protect whoever I want—whenever I want!”
“And no one will stop me!”
“Not even you, Demon King!”
The words erupted without planning.
Her voice echoed across the massive hall.
A tense silence followed.
The demon children stared at her in shock.
But Aurelia did not care.
She stared back at the Demon King with blazing determination.
Instead of anger, the Demon King chuckled.
The deep sound rolled through the hall like distant thunder.
His laughter slowly turned into a sinister smile—one filled with unexpected pride.
“Interesting…” he murmured.
His crimson eyes gleamed.
“At last… someone who reminds me of myself.”
The Demon King stepped down from his throne.
Each heavy footstep echoed across the stone floor.
He stopped directly before Aurelia, towering above her.
“Kaelthar,” he said slyly, “you have great courage to say such things in front of me.”
“But words alone are meaningless.”
“If you truly wish to become the strongest demon—prove it.”
“If you truly wish to protect whoever you choose—prove it.”
He leaned closer, his monstrous face near hers.
“And if you wish to challenge me one day…”
“I will be waiting.”
Aurelia felt her body tense, but she did not avert her gaze.
She stared directly into the Demon King’s eyes.
Without realizing it, the demon instincts inside her answered the challenge with a fierce smile of their own.
“Good,” the Demon King said with a savage grin as he turned back toward his throne.
“But remember this, Kaelthar.”
“I have never lost.”
“If you wish to remove me… make sure you are ready for the consequences.”
The hall fell silent as the Demon King returned to his throne.
The other demon children remained still, uncertain how to react to what had just happened.
But Aurelia could feel their gazes upon her.
Their perception of her had changed.
Some looked intrigued.
Others burned with hatred or jealousy.
She knew she had placed herself in far greater danger.
What have I just done? she thought, dread creeping into her heart.
Not only had she challenged the Demon King with her words—
she had nearly surrendered to the demon instincts trying to consume her.
She lowered her head, hiding her unease.
But deep inside she knew one thing with certainty.
Those words might have saved Anna.
But they had also opened the door to far greater trials in the future.
When the Demon King finally dismissed them, the demon children slowly began leaving the hall.
Several cast meaningful glances toward Aurelia—filled with hatred, jealousy, or suspicion.
Morthak, the eldest son, approached as Aurelia struggled to stand.
“You’ve got quite the mouth, Kaelthar,” he said coldly with a sly smile.
“But we’ll see if you can back those words with action.”
“Don’t get too confident just because Father liked you today.”
Aurelia did not respond.
Her cold gaze alone made Morthak snort before walking away.
In that moment, Aurelia realized something important.
She was not only facing the Demon King.
She now had to face her ambitious and ruthless siblings as well.
I cannot retreat now, she thought.
If I want to survive in this world… I must become stronger.
Not just for myself.
But to protect those who matter to me.
Within her heart, her resolve hardened—
even as the path ahead grew darker.
