The throne hall of the Great Demon Lord was shrouded in shadows.
Crimson banners hung from obsidian walls, while torches burned with dark, unnatural flames. The air was thick with tension, and low, restless murmurs echoed throughout the chamber.
At the center, the Demon Lord sat upon his throne, his clawed fingers tapping slowly against the armrest. His expression twitched as his gaze shifted toward the vast eastern territories of his empire.
"…There is still a question," he muttered.
"Should we enthrone a Demon King to rule the eastern Ironwood territories, or place them under direct imperial control? Granting too much power to one individual could invite disaster."
His advisors—fanatical traditionalists, war-hardened elites, and rigid high-ranking demons obsessed with domination—spoke in unison, their voices overlapping in agreement.
"Your Majesty, delegating power only invites weakness."
"The eastern lands must remain under your direct command."
"Humans must remain beneath our heel."
"Any who suggest otherwise are traitors."
The Demon Lord's crimson eyes flickered.
Beyond the palace walls, unrest was already spreading.
---
Rebellion in the Shadows
In the dark alleys of the Demon Capital, whispers of rebellion grew louder.
Small demon factions gathered in silence, dreaming of a world without endless bloodshed.
Among them, the most prominent was the United Demon-Human Organization—a movement bold enough to imagine peace.
Their leader, Aethelred Vi Regis, stood before his followers.
His crimson eyes carried deep sorrow, framed by silver hair that outlined a grief-worn face. When he spoke, his voice was calm yet resolute.
"Demon brothers and sisters… our people have been bound in chains for generations. Endless wars. Endless oppression. Rivers of blood without end. Must we walk this path forever?"
"Or can we not build a world where demons and humans stand side by side?"
A ripple of hope passed through the crowd—but beneath it lurked fear.
Aethelred's gaze softened as memories surfaced: his childhood as an orphan in the war-ravaged slums of the Demon Empire, never knowing his parents, lost to the cruelty of those who preyed on the weak.
"If others can be spared this pain… then my life will not have been in vain…"
A scarred demon woman—one of his commanders—bowed her head.
"Lord Aethelred, the extremists are growing restless. They will not tolerate our movement much longer."
Aethelred closed his eyes briefly, then opened them with quiet resolve.
"Then… we must become the flames of change."
---
The Fall of Hope
Days later, rebellion erupted across the empire.
Small resistance groups rose up, but they were swiftly crushed beneath the overwhelming force of the extremists' armies.
The United Demon-Human Organization fought bravely. Their banners stood tall—but they were vastly outnumbered.
Extremist forces flooded the streets, slaughtering the rebel commanders without mercy.
Aethelred's forces scattered.
Those who remained loyal to the end threw themselves into the fires of battle, sacrificing their lives to shield their leader.
"Lord Aethelred, run!"
A soldier cried out, using his body to block a spear.
"We'll buy you time!"
They charged forward, screaming defiantly, fully aware this would be their final stand.
Aethelred's heart shattered with each death. His hands trembled as though drenched in their blood.
This is all because of me…
Yet their voices rang clearly in his ears.
"Live, Lord Aethelred."
"If Aethelred-sama falls, our dream dies with the rebellion."
Clenching his teeth, Aethelred fled into the night. Crimson tears streamed from his eyes as he watched, helpless, the city of his dreams burn in his mind.
---
A Fragment of Peace
Wounded, exhausted, and alone, Aethelred finally reached the edge of the Demon Empire.
Beyond it lay lands untouched by the fires of rebellion: Eastern Ironwood, Northern Silverwood, Western Mistwood, and Southern Flarewood.
Their Demon Lords ruled quietly, distant from imperial politics. For now, their territories remained at peace.
From the shadows of a ruined hill, Aethelred gazed upon those lands.
His voice trembled—but his spirit did not break.
"Even if our rebellion failed… even if our blood stains the streets… I will not surrender."
His fists clenched.
"One day, demons and humans will walk this world together. I swear it—by the names of all who died for this dream."
The wind carried his vow into the night, carving it into the world as a promise shaped by his own will.
Thus, though his organization was destroyed and his followers lay in unmarked graves, Aethelred Vi Regis lived on.
And somewhere within the Demon Empire—
the seed of change still burned.
---
✨ End of Chapter 4 ✨
---