The Demon King.
Not some boogeyman whispered about by scared villagers. Not a metaphor for evil. He was real. Blood, bone, and fury incarnate. Ruler of the Demon World, buried deep beneath the crust of this one, where the air reeked of sulfur and time moved differently.
He led the demons. Creatures of nightmare. Flesh-bound nightmares that tore through human kingdoms like paper. His armies spilled from the earth like rot from a wound.
And now, he was dying.
In the Forest of Darkness, thick with shadows and the stink of decay, stood the Demon King's Castle, a hulking slab of black stone, veins of crimson magic pulsing through its walls like a heartbeat. Inside, near the throne room, the Demon King slumped against a cracked pillar, gasping.
His chest was torn open. A jagged gash, still bleeding like a fresh kill. Blood pooled at his feet, slick and steaming. His breath came in ragged bursts, each one heavier than the last.
He glared at the group standing before him. Adventurers. Heroes, if you believed the songs.
They didn't belong here. Clad in mismatched armor and cloaks soaked in sweat and blood, they looked more like desperate survivors than saviors. But they'd carved their way through his defenses. Past traps, monsters, spells woven into the castle's very bones.
And now, the Demon King was on his knees.
"End of the line," said the golden-haired woman at the front. Her armor gleamed despite the grime. She raised her sword, tip aimed at his throat. "Your tomb starts today. Hope hell's got room for regrets."
The Demon King bared his teeth. Anger flared behind his eyes, but it was cold. Calculated.
He hadn't seen this coming. Humans crossing the Everbane Mountains? Marching through the Forest of Darkness? Laughable.
And yet, here they were.
And worse—he couldn't use his magic.
He clenched his fist. Realization hit like a hammer to the skull.
Anti-magic weapon.
A relic from the old wars. A cursed thing built to kill mages. Nullify spells. Shatter wards. Seal power.
"I thought they were all gone," he muttered.
"Yeah," said the man in the center of the group, smug grin splitting his face. "That's what they said. But call it what it is, Holy Sword. Hero's tool. Boring names don't scare people."
The Demon King narrowed his eyes.
Most of his forces were deployed. Raiding. Settling. Expanding. And now, with his magic locked down, reinforcements were ghosts. Whispers in the dark.
No choice.
He had to end this himself.
His gaze sharpened. His body screamed in protest, but he pushed past it. Survival wasn't a luxury, it was a necessity.
Silence stretched.
Then the girl spoke.
"May I ask a question?"
Everyone turned. Even the Demon King blinked.
She wore a hat with stars stitched into it. Mage Tower crest embroidered just below the brim. Young. Nervous. But she held her ground.
"...?" The Demon King stared at her. "Mage Tower scum. What do you want?"
"Not as a representative," she said quickly. "Just... as a magician. One question. Please."
"Wait—what are you doing?" snapped the hero.
"Let her speak," said the knight. "She has a reason."
The girl swallowed hard. Then—
"Why did you betray us?"
The room froze.
"What the hell are you talking about?" someone muttered.
The girl ignored them. She stepped forward, voice steady.
"Alaric. Grand Mage of the Mage Tower. Why did you leave us? You were called the Great Sage. The greatest talent we ever had. Why did you side with demons?"
"...Betrayal?" the Demon King murmured.
His laugh came slow at first. Then louder. Wild. Manic.
"Bwahaha! Alaric! That name..." He coughed, blood flecking his lips. "Feels like a ghost just walked over my grave."
"You were hunted," the girl said. "By the Mage Tower. By your friends."
"And you think I betrayed them ?" His voice dropped low. Cold. Deadly.
He shifted. His form twisted. Horns grew longer. Eyes burned red. Magic surged despite the seal, raw and untamed.
The knight shoved the girl behind her, shield spell flaring to life.
"You dare accuse me of betrayal?" the Demon King roared. "You arrogant little worm. Let me tell you how it really went."
He slammed his fist into the floor. Stone cracked like eggshells.
"I gave everything to that damn Tower. Discovered something beyond magic. Something ancient. And what did they do? Demand my research. Threaten my disciples when I refused. Sent assassins after me when I fled."
His voice rose, fury boiling over.
"They stabbed me in the back. Left me to die in the Dark Forest. Betrayed me long before I ever set foot in the Demon Realm."
He leaned forward, breath ragged but eyes blazing.
"It wasn't me who betrayed humanity. It was the Mage Tower that killed me. And I came back changed."
Silence.
The girl staggered. The knight stepped between them, sword raised.
"Shut up!" she snarled. "Liar!"
"Hm." The Demon King tilted his head. "But you know the truth, don't you?"
The girl flinched. Looked away.
"Even if that's true—" the knight spat, "—it doesn't erase what you've done."
He laughed again. Louder this time.
"Crimes? Like invading the surface?"
"Yes!" someone shouted. "You brought death to our homes. To our families!"
"No," he said simply. "We came looking for land. For survival. We sent an envoy. An elder. Margarita. She begged for peace. Offered cooperation."
His voice dropped to a growl.
"You executed her."
Gasps. Muttered disbelief.
"She offered peace," he repeated. "And you answered with a blade."
His eyes burned with something deeper than rage.
Regret. Maybe.
Or vengeance.
"Everything after that," he said, "was consequence."
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Author's Note:
Hey there, readers!
First off, I want to thank you for diving into the first chapter of Return of the Demon King. Since this is my first novel, your feedback and thoughts mean the world to me! I'd love to hear what you think—what worked, what didn't, and any suggestions for improvement. Your reviews and comments will help me shape the story moving forward.
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