The Demon King's throne room was not built for comfort.
Black stone pillars rose like fangs toward a ceiling lost in darkness. Crimson runes pulsed faintly along the walls, beating like a living heart. At the far end stood a massive throne carved from obsidian and bone, its surface etched with the history of bloodshed.
I stood before it.
And every demon in the hall knelt.
The pressure was suffocating.
Thousands of gazes pressed against me—some filled with reverence, others with suspicion, and many with fear so sharp it tasted bitter in the air.
So this was what it meant to rule demons.
Dix stood half a step behind me, wings folded, posture straight. His presence was calm, grounding—like an anchor in a storm.
"My lord," he said quietly, "this assembly awaits your command."
I swallowed.
The Ruler's Insight pulsed again.
Information flooded my senses.
Loyalty burning bright like embers.
Hatred lurking beneath polite submission.
Ambition coiled tightly, waiting.
The Demon Nation wasn't united.
It was restrained.
I exhaled slowly and took a step forward.
The sound of my clawed foot against stone echoed through the hall, and instantly, the murmurs died.
"I am Deus Dahak," I said.
My voice carried—farther than it should have.
"I know many of you question why I stand here," I continued. "I know some of you doubt me."
A ripple of unease spread through the kneeling demons.
Good.
"I have inherited the throne of kings who ruled through terror," I said, eyes scanning the crowd. "Kings who believed fear alone could sustain a nation."
My hand clenched.
Black flames licked around my fingers, responding to my emotions.
"That era ends with me."
Gasps echoed.
Several high-ranking demons stiffened.
One stepped forward—tall, armored, with scarred horns and eyes like molten gold.
"Blasphemy," he snarled. "Fear is our strength! Without it, demons are nothing but beasts!"
The pressure surged.
I felt it then.
Not anger.
Instinct.
I released Demonic Pressure.
The air collapsed.
The demon general slammed into the ground, stone cracking beneath him as he struggled to breathe. His limbs trembled violently, eyes wide with terror.
I walked toward him slowly.
"Fear is a tool," I said calmly. "Not a foundation."
I looked down at him.
"And I don't tolerate challenges based on ignorance."
The pressure lifted.
He collapsed, gasping, refusing to meet my gaze.
I turned back to the hall.
"I will not rule through mindless slaughter," I said. "But make no mistake—those who threaten this nation will be erased."
Silence followed.
Then, one by one, heads lowered deeper.
Dix smiled faintly.
Later, in the inner chambers, I finally allowed myself to sit.
The throne felt cold—even through my body's unnatural resilience.
"So," I muttered, leaning back. "That went… better than expected."
Dix chuckled softly. "You shattered a warlord's will without killing him. The others will remember that."
"Is that good or bad?"
"Yes," he answered honestly.
I sighed.
"Tell me everything," I said. "Politics. Enemies. Allies. I need to understand this nation if I'm going to protect it."
Dix nodded.
"The Demon Nation is divided into seven Great Clans," he explained. "Each commands armies and territories. Some support you. Others supported different successors."
"And the humans?" I asked.
"They celebrate," Dix replied. "The death of the previous Demon King has emboldened them. The Hero's summoning was no coincidence."
My chest tightened.
"So war is inevitable."
"Yes," Dix said. "But how it unfolds… depends on you."
A faint flicker appeared before my eyes.
[Authority Update]
New Title Acquired: Demon King (Uncrowned)
Effect: Increased influence over demon factions. Resistance from rival clans remains.
Uncrowned.
I leaned forward, elbows on my knees.
"I don't want endless war," I said quietly. "But I won't let my people be hunted like villains in a story either."
Dix looked at me carefully. "Then you must change the narrative."
"How?"
"By surviving," he said. "By growing stronger than both demons and heroes expect."
The words resonated.
Strength had always been the deciding factor.
Even in my old world.
I stood, black flames swirling more freely now.
"Prepare the nation," I said. "Reorganize the armies. Strengthen our borders—but no unnecessary bloodshed."
Dix placed a fist over his chest. "As you command."
As he turned to leave, I spoke again.
"Dix."
He paused.
"Thank you," I said. "For believing in me—even when I don't fully understand myself."
He smiled, genuine and fierce. "You are already different, my lord. That is why I believe."
Alone once more, I stared into the darkness beyond the throne room.
Somewhere out there, a hero was growing stronger.
Sharpening his blade.
Preparing to slay a demon king.
I closed my eyes.
"If fate wants me to be the villain," I whispered, "then I'll become one the world can't afford to misunderstand."
The war between hero and demon had begun.
And this time—
The demon would write the ending.