Chapter 2: The Story past demon lord and hero
The metallic GONG that had ripped my soul from the bickering gods' chaotic cosmic office was instantly replaced by a soothing calm and the soft whisper of silks. The air was thick with the cloying, expensive scent of high-end jasmine perfume.
I blinked, my eyes struggling to adjust. I had braced myself for the scorched earth and neon decay of the Neon Apocalypse Domain. Instead, I found myself in a sanctuary. It was a bedroom—no, a palatial suite—the size of my entire former apartment block. Sunlight, filtered through sheer lace curtains, poured onto a giant, four-poster bed draped in crimson velvet. The furniture looked like it had been carved by ancient Elven artisans who charged by the minute. Everything screamed 'Noble Protagonist Starting Zone.'
I was lying in the middle of this opulence, wrapped in a blanket that felt suspiciously like spun moonlight. I looked down at my hands. They were tiny. Pathetically, adorably, uselessly tiny.
"Oh, boy. What a pain," I groaned, the words coming out as a perfectly formed, yet utterly useless, three-year-old's squeak.
A fresh wave of paranoia, courtesy of the five chaotic deities, immediately hit me. I scrambled upright, checking my body with frantic haste. I patted my scalp. No elephant trunk. I jumped on the bed, looking left and right for leathery, vestigial tentacles. I rubbed my arms, fearing my skin would suddenly harden into bark. Thank the cosmos, no sign of a Supreme Dryad accident. I opened and closed my tiny hands repeatedly, checking for any subtle signs of temporal displacement or permanent delusion—the unfortunate fate of Griffinrome's last chosen hero.
"Oh, gods, thank you for this," I whispered to myself, relieved to still be a standard-issue human child. "I still have all my parts, and I'm not screaming 'What the hell?' at imaginary coworkers. I survived the celestial idiot meeting."
The sheer trauma of nearly dying twice—once by a gas bill and once by five panicking deities accidentally dumping 50\% of their combined power into my soul—flashed through my mind. It was a stupid, chaotic situation, and I was the cosmic guinea pig.
A notification board instantly popped up in front of me, stark white against the crimson velvet backdrop.
STATUS: LOCKED
Reason: Official Church Blessing Ritual Required to Initialize System Interface.
"Seriously?" I muttered. "A status screen that can display Triple Infinity Mana is being gated by church bureaucracy? I hope my stats are completely normal until I get that blessing. Just for once, I want to be a baseline human kid." (Spoiler: I knew, deep down, they weren't.)
The Harem That Wasn't (Yet)
Before I could fully process the system lock, I was instantly surrounded. Three women, maids in pristine, color-coded uniforms, materialized as if they'd been waiting for this exact moment. They were impossibly beautiful, looking like they'd stepped directly out of a highly-detailed character design sheet from a prestigious light novel.
My inner otaku, now apparently cross-wired with divine insight, immediately analyzed their threat level and archetype:
Maid Archetype Name Rank/Skill Analysis My Internal Monologue
The Bubbly Assassin Mera (Silver-Haired) Super Assassin (S-Rank). Perpetual sunny disposition hides a thousand ways to kill. The Tsundere Killer. Don't trust the smile.
The Ice Queen Paladin Layla (Black-Haired) Veteran Tank/Paladin (A-Rank). Stoic and emotionally reserved, but physically formidable. The Unflappable Wall. Probably has a tragic backstory and will protect me.
The Angelic Threat Vencrisha (Yellow-Haired) Master of Martial Arts (B+ Rank). Scary-beautiful. Her smile is an existential threat. The Yandere Starter Pack. I'm afraid of her.
The first to react was the Silver-Haired Maid, Mera. She had eyes the color of pale amethyst and a perpetually sunny, bubbly disposition.
"The Master is awake!" she chirped, her voice a delightful cascade of tiny, expensive bells. Before I could process the sudden intimacy, she swooped, pulling my tiny, three-year-old body into a crushing, suffocating cuddle.
"No!" I shouted in my mind, the thought vibrating with the full weight of my old life's obsession and training. "I am not a baby! Stop! I am a martial arts addict, not a plush toy! My body is a temple of Tang Soo Do and Shotokan, not a squishy stress ball!"
The physical resistance was hilariously weak. My push was less a rejection and more a kitten kneading dough. My 70,000 speed was useless in a cuddle fight.
She pulled back, pouting with dramatic, high-anime perfection. "You're so mean, Master. You were so cuddly when you were sleeping!"
I mentally sighed, defeated. Oh, yeah. I'm a three-year-old. I forgot. My physical Attack & Strength of 70 is no match for S-Rank Cuddle Magic.
Next, the Black-Haired Maid, Layla, stepped forward. She was the epitome of stoicism: pitch-black hair, deep, unemotional obsidian eyes, and an expression that suggested she was constantly calculating the most efficient path to doom. Her beauty was unnerving, like a perfectly preserved, high-defense statue.
Wow, I thought. This girl is gorgeous and stoic. She's the ice queen archetype. I can already hear the dramatic, orchestral soundtrack starting to swell in the background. I stood there,
momentarily paralyzed by the sheer cliché of the situation, feeling like the world—and my massive, complicated fate—didn't matter as long as these three stunning women were here to wait on me.
Finally, my eyes landed on the Yellow-Haired Maid, Vencrisha. Oh, boy. This one is different. She had an angelic, beautiful smile, but the look in her eyes felt like a cold, existential threat. It was the kind of smile you'd see on a horror movie antagonist right before they revealed their collection of antique torture devices. Beautiful, yes. Absolutely terrifying, also yes.
"Y-you… do you remember anything, Young Master?" the silver-haired maid, Mera, asked, her bubbly facade cracking with genuine concern.
"Do you know your name, Young Master?" the stoic black-haired maid, Layla, followed up, her voice a calm, smooth blade of anxiety.
"And do you know your noble status?" the scary yellow-haired maid, Vencrisha, finished, her angelic smile somehow growing wider and more menacing. I was cute, I knew it, but I felt like a suspect in an interrogation room in an anime, being offered katsudon before the final confession.
"Sorry, girls," I squeaked, tears of manufactured baby despair welling up. "I… I don't remember anything! Total Amnesia!"
The Cliché Origin Story
The maids instantly dissolved into a whirlwind of panic and dramatic exposition.
"Then we must reintroduce ourselves, Young Master!" the silver-haired maid, Mera, declared, grabbing my tiny hand. "My name is Mera! I am your personal attendant!"
"My name is Layla," the stoic black-haired maid stated, her hand resting over her heart in a gesture of reserved duty. "Your bodyguard and tactical advisor."
"And my name is Vencrisha," the scary yellow-haired maid finished, her smile somehow less threatening, but only by a hair's breadth. "I handle discipline and education."
Why do I feel like I'm watching the roll call from a low-budget, high-concept superhero show?
Mera leaned in, her eyes shining with proprietary pride. "And your name is Rafehleon Velfist! Everyone calls you Leon! You are the noble heir of the great Velfist Family, one of the founding pillars of the Thunder Nation!"
Layla picked up the pace, her voice utterly serious. "Your mother's name is Morgan Artina Velfist. A person of immense compassion."
Vencrisha, the final boss, delivered the last piece of information with perfect, beautiful dread. "And your father's name is Zealous Carmeleo Velfist. Remember it, or I will make you write it 1,000 times using a self-inking pen that only works when you're asleep."
"Okay, I remember it! I'll remember it until I die—again!" I blurted out, sealing my fate.
The eart warming parents
The door burst open, and a gentle presence swept into the room, cutting through the maid's frantic energy like a cool breeze.
My mother, Morgan, was a breathtaking vision of tranquil beauty. Her hair was a cascading forest green, and her eyes sparkled with sea-salt compassion. Just being in her presence made the room feel 10 degrees warmer and 100\% safer.
"Hello, my son," she said, her voice a soft melody. "You were in a coma for one month, little one. Welcome back."
She hugged me, a strong, warm embrace that made me instantly tear up. It was the deepest, most comforting maternal love I had felt in what felt like two lifetimes. So this is what it feels like. It's too good.
CRASH!
My father, Zealous, didn't merely enter the room; he crashed into it. He was a handsome man with blazing scarlet-red hair, looking like a character ripped from a high-fantasy oil painting, but with the grace of a drunken moose. He tripped over the rug and sent a potted plant—likely an ancient, priceless one—careening into a nearby vase. Both shattered.
"Honey!" my mother gasped, moving with practiced speed to assess the collateral damage. "Be careful! Do you remember last time? You got a nosebleed that lasted three days just from stubbing your toe!"
"Yeah, but I heard our son is awake!" my father replied, completely unhurt, already dusting off his handsome but ruined crimson robes.
My mom giggled, shaking her head. "Yes, here is our son, the gold we would never replace."
My dad, seeing me, swelled with pride, his scarlet hair seeming to flare. "Wow, my son, you look great! I hope the girls don't chase you as much as they chased me in my youth at the Knight Academy. That was a terrifying nightmare! I had to hide in the stables for a week!"
I looked at him with a perfect, confused baby face. What in the world is he talking about? Another academy cliché? And why is he scared of girls? Was he the ultimate beta hero?
"Oh, I almost forgot!" my father said, recovering instantly from his near-death experience with the rug.
He brought in a little girl with cute green hair and a quiet, doll-like face. She was the definition of an adorable magical girl character, but with an odd, knowing look in her deep green eyes.
"Leon, meet your twin sister, Lucy Velfist!"
Lucy slowly, quietly, came over to me. She moved with a strange, stoic intensity, then suddenly lunged with surprising speed, wrapping me in a fierce, clingy hug that felt disproportionately strong for a three-year-old.
"Brother," she whispered, and the room seemed to lighten with our combined, albeit currently latent, divine presence. It felt like two massive, unknown power sources had just briefly connected.
The Revelation
Seven years passed in what felt like a commercial break.
I was now 10 years old. I had absorbed all the necessary knowledge of this chaotic world: the system of dungeon breaks, the terrifying scale of the SSS+ ranked dungeons, and the fact that 1,000 years ago, the only reason the world didn't end was because Seven Demon Lords and Twelve Heroes had joined forces to lock away 20\% of the most dangerous, active dungeons. This was a classic high-fantasy setup—the fragile peace maintained by a hidden seal.
Today was my 10^{th} birthday, and the house was full of my parents' friends—the true high-level power brokers of the realm.
The first was King Lexus Carmela, the burly, giant man who ruled the Thunder Nation and looked like a walking mountain of muscle and golden armor.
The second was Miss Talia Aphrodite, the guild master and a renowned Death Mage, whose presence felt like a gentle, cool shadow, surprisingly calm for her terrifying title.
The third was Gerylan Silkream, the scholarly gentleman whose robes bore shifting celestial maps (a familiar, cringey detail that immediately made me think of the overconfident, data-obsessed god, Griffinrome).
The mood was festive, but King Lexus, who was surprisingly emotional, ruined the party with a dramatic outburst.
"A beautiful and tragic love story, truly!" he roared, wiping his eyes with a massive cuff that could have been a shield. "They were the first Demon Lord and Hero to ever fall in love!"
The room fell silent. I knew it. I sat there, paralyzed, sipping my expensive, lukewarm tea. My father, the clumsy goofball who feared women and tripped on rugs, was a Demon Lord. My mother, the gentle Hero who made the room feel warm, was a former Sword Sage. And I was their son, the otaku with the Triple Infinity Mana. The irony was so thick I could choke on it.
My sister, Lucy, reacted first. She didn't cry. She stood up, walked to the sobbing King, and wrapped her tiny arms around his bulky, diamond-plated leg.
"Uncle Lexus," she said, her voice small but perfectly firm. "Do not be sad. I am here to comfort you."
The giant King of the Thunder Nation immediately buried his face in her green hair and wailed like a heartbroken child.
"Honey," my Demon Lord father whispered to my Hero mother, his face a mixture of pride and confusion. "I think our daughter is too cool for this world. She's too stable for our family."
"You got that right, my husband," my mother giggled, completely unbothered by the fact that her husband was a demon lord vessel and her best friend was a crying mountain.
The Scholar's Revelation
It was Gerylan Silkream, the scholar, who finally cut through the emotional farce with cold, hard logic.
"Apologies for interrupting the emotional cleansing," he said calmly, adjusting his glasses. "But I have made an observation. This world's magic is functioning on three key concepts: Emotional, Unstable Knowledge, and Divine Blessing."
Talia, the Death Mage, narrowed her eyes, a dark shimmer surrounding her. "How do you know this, Gerylan? This is classified research."
Gerylan continued, oblivious to the Death Mage's subtle threat. "I suspect that if an individual has knowledge from another world or a strong imagination, they can control this mechanical magic system. Better eyesight is required to learn more about this phenomenon, but the data is clear."
My 10-year-old heart pounded like a drum. Knowledge from another world. He was talking about the genesis of my parents' powers, which were born from extreme emotional trauma. He was talking about the cheat code of the Isekai genre. He was talking about me. He had figured out the fundamental mechanics of my entire new life.
He then delivered the punchline that sent a chill down my spine. "The 20\% of Sealed Dungeons are about to break. The seals are failing."
The Parents' Backstories: A Tale of Two Clichés
King Lexus, the unstoppable Thunder King, finally pulled himself together, realizing the gravity of the situation. He decided the children needed to know the context of their ridiculous heritage, starting with my dad.
Zealous Velfist: The Vessel of the Demon Lord Flame
My father was originally a normal mage, the strongest in the Kingdom of Ezra, known as the Gentle Flame of Ezra.
The King of Ezra sent him and 10,000 soldiers to investigate a dangerous Rare SSS+ Rank dungeon. The dungeon master was ready, crushing their forces with 50,000 monsters. An Oni Orc King appeared, wiping out the army until only Zealous survived.
Zealous watched his final comrade die, his head crushed by an Orc's foot. Wrath and despair consumed him.
Status Note System Breakdown
Evolution Will Be Activated Flame emotional wrath is not stabilized.
Soul Consumption Active 10,000 souls enter Zealous's body, fueling the transformation.
Evolution Process Begin ...
Pre-Evolution (Normal Stage - Level 70) Value Post-Evolution (Vessel of the Demon Lord Flame - Level 70) Value
Title Gentle Flame Title Vessel of the Demon Lord Flame
HP/Defense 700 HP/Defense 7,000
Mana 3,000 Mana 30,000
Attack 200 Attack 2,000
Speed/Stamina 400 Speed/Stamina 4,000
Magic Power 7,200 Magic Power 72,000
Skills Fire Ball, Fire Wall, Fire Lance, Storm Flame Lance, Inferno Skills Crimson Fire Ball, Crimson Fire Wall, Crimson Fire Lance
Special Skill N/A Special Skill Burning Ocean, Auto Flame Dragon
Ultimate Skill N/A Ultimate Skill Wrath of the Vessel of the Flaming God (Boosts all stats and magic by 10\times)
In three days, the newly-minted Demon Lord Zealous wiped out the entire dungeon and returned alone, forever changed. A classic, tragic power-up from despair. Anime 101.
Morgan Velfist: The Sword Sage Hero
My mother, Morgan, was the 7^{th} generation instructor of the Moon Nature Sword style. She was a genius of the blade, easily defeating A-rank adventurers and eight Holy Knights without a single magic skill.
Her father, my grandfather, lamented that she had no mana or magic power, apologizing that she didn't get the Blessing of the Goddess of Beauty and Nature (a familiar, tearful name that made me think of the weeping, perverted Meleona).
Seven days later, a panicked Knight Captain rushed in. Morgan's students had entered an Evolution Dungeon. It was D-rank, but in one hour, it would evolve into S+ rank.
Morgan, frantic, raced to the dungeon. She fought her way to the 18^{th} floor, where she found her eight students slain by a massive Elder Dragon radiating a death aura.
Cradling her dying students, Morgan wept. "God, please, God! Give them a chance to live!" she begged, her heart shattering.
Status Note System Breakdown
True Awakening of Pure Heart Human The Hero has been Born.
Light Surrounds Morgan's Body Awakening of Hero is achieved—a reaction to selfless love and despair.
Pre-Awakening (Normal Stage - Level 70) Value Post-Awakening (The Beginning Hero - Level 70) Value
Title Sword Genius Title Sword Sage
HP/Defense 500 HP/Defense 5,000
Mana/Magic Power 200 / 150 Mana/Magic Power 7,000 / 7,000
Attack 780 Attack 78,000
Speed/Stamina 4,000 Speed/Stamina 70,000
Skills N/A Skills Sword Nature with Dash, Nature Windy Defense
Unique Skill N/A Unique Skill Holy Sword Nature Light Attack
Special Skill N/A Special Skill Valkyrie Nature Summoning Spirit
Ultimate Skill N/A Ultimate Skill Nature Fairy Spirit Avatar
Morgan slayed the Elder Dragon and returned, a Hero, with the bodies of her friends—the ultimate sacrifice for the ultimate power.
"They were the first Demon Lord and Hero to ever fall in love!" Lexus concluded, weeping again, the 10^{th} century love story still hitting him right in the feels.
The Academy of Destiny: The Final Cliché
The dramatic stories were a perfect blend of high-stakes tragedy and predictable anime tropes. My father was the tragic Demon Lord whose power was born from the loss of his comrades. My mother was the pure-hearted Hero whose immense power was a divine response to her overwhelming despair. And I, the culmination of their union, was 10 years old with a body that could break the sound barrier and a mana pool that contained three galaxies.
"The Sealed Dungeons are breaking!" King Lexus roared, cutting off his own crying fit with a jolt of royal urgency. "We need more powerful students! The new Magic Knight Academy is opening! Your twins must enroll! They need the official Church Blessing—which happens at age ten—to unlock their true skills!"
He pointed to his beautiful blonde daughter, Princess Jenny Carmela. "My daughter will also be enrolling this year! A new generation of heroes!"
Talia, the Death Mage, nodded, a faint purple glow surrounding her hands. "My niece, a promising Death Elemental Summoner, will also be entering the academy."
Gerylan, the Scholar, smiled at me. "My top apprentice, a prodigy in Runology, is joining. You will have all the help you can get, Leon. We're preparing for the worst."
My peaceful, simple life was officially over. It was time for the obligatory Academy Arc—the true moment of my Isekai destiny.
I glanced down at my Status Screen, which was still just a dim, flickering display because the world's system required that Church Blessing ritual to formally recognize my existence and, more terrifyingly, my cheat stats.
I am a Demon Lord and a Hero's son. I have the blessing of five clown deities. And I'm about to enter the most cliché institution in all of fantasy. I'm going to need a strategy.