Chapter 8 – The Dance of Flames
The kingdom's capital glittered with festival lights. Fireworks exploded in colors across the night sky.
Disguised beneath a cloak, Rale walked among the crowd with his harem.
The saintess clung shyly to his sleeve, gazing at the lights.
"It feels… magical, doesn't it?"
The princess boldly pulled him toward a game stand, laughing as she competed to win a prize for him.
The elf mage whispered near his ear, her breath warm:
"Tonight, when the stars are highest… I'll tell you a secret only for you."
For the first time, Rale felt like an ordinary man — not a villain, not a demon lord, just… someone who could be loved.
But the joy shattered. From the rooftops, masked assassins leapt down, blades gleaming.
"Target confirmed — the Arch Demon!"
Rale's disguise burned away as his demonic aura flared. Flames of black and red engulfed the street. His enemies screamed as his power devoured them. The harem fought beside him — the saintess wielding holy light, the princess with her sword, the elf with her spells.
When the last assassin fell, silence returned to the festival. The crowd stared in awe and fear.
Rale stood tall, his cloak burning away, revealing his wings.
"The Hero of Light sends dogs to hunt me…" His voice echoed like thunder. "Then let the hero come himself."