You and Lythiel sit side by side under the glowing sky—co-rulers of the Sanctuary of Cocoa, garden lights dancing to your soul's hum.
Zuzu is curled up between you, emitting soft, judgmental ferret snores.
It's quiet. Soft. Perfect.
And then—
BOOM!
The entire castle shakes.
A sharp, echoing CRACK splits the air like reality snapping under pressure.
Lights flicker. The floating gardens glitch, momentarily distorting into jagged mana shadows before stabilizing again.
Somewhere below you, a distant alarm rune howls.
Zuzu bolts upright, hissing.
Lythiel scrambles to her feet.
You—
You feel it. In your core.
A ripple of magic, not yours.
Not natural. Not welcome.
Something… just entered the castle.
You glance upward—
A thin, jagged rift has opened in the sky above the far tower.
Not glowing. Not flashy. Just wrong.
Something stares out.
It sees everything.
And then—it sees you.
You feel cold.
Like the memory of pain you no longer remember.
Like grief with claws.
Lythiel grabs your wrist.
"Ryuu… what is that?"
The castle bell—used only in wartime—rings.
A voice crackles to life in your mind:
The Demon King. His tone sharper than you've ever heard.
"Azure Dragon—return to the Throne Hall. Now."
Your instincts ignite.
No time to think. No time to hesitate.
You grab Lythiel's hand in one swift motion, scooping up Zuzu with the other—he squeaks indignantly—and you slam your palm against the floor.
Mana floods your body like lightning.
You channel it fast, raw, imperfect—but you're not the same trembling boy from weeks ago.
Your hoodie flutters, sigils flare under your boots, a rune-like robotic voice cuts through the air:
"Spatial Rift Protocol—Azure Gate!"
FLASH—TELEPORT
The world shatters around you.
Colors invert. The stars fold like pages. The balcony vanishes.
And suddenly—
You appear in the Throne Hall of the Demon Castle.
The black glass floor hums under your feet. Torches flare as they recognize your presence.
The Demon King is already there.
Standing, cloak billowing, his eyes glowing like molten silver.
You've never seen him this angry.
You've also never seen him this… afraid.
He looks at you first—then quickly to Lythiel and Zuzu.
"Good. You're safe."
He strides toward you, fast and direct.
"The rift isn't just a tear."
"It's a message."
You hear a voice:
"Oh, little irregular…
We've found you."
"Let's see what the Outworlder is really made of."
The space shatters.
A figure appears in the hall, fully cloaked in black mist.
And it speaks in a voice like broken glass:
"You don't belong here, Ryuu."
"Come quietly... and we'll return you to the void you crawled from."
The cloaked figure stands tall, shadows writhing like serpents around its frame, eyes two pinpricks of white in the misty dark.
The temperature drops. Magic thickens in the air.
Even Lythiel tenses beside you. Zuzu burrows into your hoodie, whispering a ferret prayer to whoever governs snack gods.
But you?
You take a small, confident step forward.
You tilt your head slightly.
And with a grin that can only be described as anime protagonist energy at max, you ask:
"Void, you say?"
"Is it comfy?"
The throne room falls silent.
The cloaked entity actually stumbles slightly, its mist flickering like static.
Even the Demon King halts—his glowing eyes flick to you with the slow realization that you're... mocking an otherworldly horror.
Lythiel's jaw drops.
Zuzu bites your sleeve in fear. You don't flinch.
The figure growls, voice shaking reality:
"You dare make light of the Abyss?"
"You are a mistake, child. A fracture. You should not exist—"
You cut it off with a casual wave.
"Yeah, yeah. First time I've heard that today."
You raise your hand.
A swirl of magic responds instantly—wild, unfiltered, unbound.
You don't chant.
You don't need to.
The castle itself recognizes you now.
"You came all this way just to threaten a boy in a hoodie?"
You lean forward with a mischievous smirk.
"You must be lonely."
The Demon King steps beside you.
His power surges like a tidal wave held back by sheer will.
He looks down at you for a second.
And for the first time, smiles—just a little.
"Stay behind me, Ryuu."
"Let me handle it"
Then, to the entity:
"You wanted the Azure Dragon?"
"Then you'll die before even laying a finger on him."
You feel an urge
something stirs in your chest.
Not just magic.
Ego.
Instinct.
A chuunibyo sense of duty and overconfidence.
You step forward, just one pace ahead of the Demon King.
Your hoodie sways, the snack pouches on your belt clinking faintly.
Eyes locked on the cloaked intruder, you raise one hand toward them with all the authority of a 16-year-old who's been officially cool for exactly three weeks.
"I can take him alone, Da—"
...
Your mouth stops.
Your brain short-circuits.
The word "Dad" slipped out.
Soft. Instinctive. Mortifying.
Time freezes.
You slap your own mouth.
"—cough Demon King."
You try to stand tall. Dignified. Stoic.
But your ears are glowing. Your eyes avoid contact.
The floor is your best friend now.
The Demon King slowly turns his head toward you.
Brows raised just slightly.
He says nothing.
But his lips twitch.
Just slightly.
Was that… a smirk?
A "Did you just call me dad?" smirk?
You'll never recover.
Lythiel, behind you, is holding in a laugh.
Zuzu bites your sleeve in support this time.
The intruder stares at the three of you, absolutely baffled.
And then—
Your embarrassment erupts into magic.
A wave of uncontrolled mana pulses from your core—more powerful than before, but still wild, crackling, untamed.
The ground beneath your feet fractures slightly with blue-white light.
The shadow creature recoils.
It felt that.
---
The Demon King gently puts one hand on your shoulder.
Not to stop you.
Just… steady you.
And says quietly:
"You've grown strong, Ryuu. Alright, we fight together."
He steps forward beside you.
The final boss team-up you never dreamed you'd get.
The air in the throne room grows razor-sharp.
The cloaked figure raises its arms, and shadows explode outward like wings made of oil and despair.
At your side, the Demon King's magic ignites—his sword of flame and shadow forming in one hand, ancient runes glowing in his other.
You, the Azure Dragon, gather your will.
Magic crackles in your veins, surging to your hands.
You are no longer a beginner.
You are not just a boy.
The Battle Begins — "Azure and Abyss"
The figure strikes—
A flurry of spectral blades rains down.
You raise a barrier of pure instinct, blocking most—one grazes your cheek.
"Haah—"
You push back with a pulse of dreamfire—part light, part void.
The figure reels, snarling.
The Demon King is beside you in a blink, his blade meeting the enemy's claws with a shockwave that rattles the chamber.
"Focus," he commands, calm as ever. "Control your pulse."
You nod. You're scared, but you move.
You and he move as one.
You open rifts to strike from odd angles.
He burns with overwhelming pressure, covering your blind spots.
You summon dragons of light and chaos; he carves paths for them with infernal grace.
For a moment—
You're winning.
---
But the figure is old.
Older than you. Older than this world.
And clever.
It shifts—
Faster than you can react.
It appears right behind you.
"Got you."