Chapter 2: Meeting Grandpa
Waking up, I found myself in a sky-like space. Every movement I made caused ripples, like I was on water.
"Where am I?" my voice echoed in the space.
"You're awake."
The voice came from all directions, yet spoke only in my head. I couldn't see who I was speaking to, but I couldn't help feeling reverence.
"You died so suddenly, and thus we had to keep you in the waiting room of Heaven. I hope you don't mind," the voice assured. "You are Xavier, right? Age seventeen—such a young age. Since you died young, normally we would send you back for reincarnation, but you've amassed too much goodwill and ill will for that. So we've decided to test you."
"You'll be sent to another universe ten thousand years more advanced than your world, yet still uncivilized. You will not be given any cheat, so hopefully you're lucky. As for the world you'll be sent to… its name is Kladen. Unfortunately, I can't give you any more information."
Soon, white lights began gathering around me, and I noticed tiny white spirits holding—
What?!
A wheel. I guess the Wheel of Fate was a real thing, huh?
Standing up, I tried to touch the wheel, only to realize it was at the edge of the realm. I walked for a while before arriving at the wheel again; however, this time, I let them spin it.
I noticed there were two colors on it—gold and dark purplish-blue, coming in different hues.
The spirits hopped onto the wheel, and it began to spin…
...…
Soon, it landed on white—then turned back to black.
"Gahhh!"
Soon, the once-golden wheel and peaceful realm turned dark, like a switch had been flipped. The lights went off. Even the white, happy spirits turned red.
"Don't tell me I got something bad!"
Shouting to the heavens, I begged for another chance, but I was greeted with snickering eyes. Fear crept in, and I lost consciousness.
—————
Waking up, I realized it was all a dream.
I found myself sitting in front of an angel.
"You're quite unfortunate," the angel sighed. "Dying so young and still ending up with the worst role in your new life. Because of that, Heaven has decided to show mercy and grant you a 'gift.' Do use it wisely, and try not to destroy your world."
With a nod from my part and a snap from it, I was back in the dark place.
—————
Staring at my surroundings, I realized I was in a dark, reddish liquid. Stretching my body—which felt extremely restricted—I struggled, kicking the walls of my confinement.
"What kind of reincarnation is this? I can't even move or do anything. I don't even know where I am," I thought internally.
"…He's so active. He's going to be really strong when he grows up."
"…Haha, of course. As expected of my grandson."
"What are these voices? Am I getting schizophrenia?"
———-
It's been so many days: spent his time counting the time and seconds. Since he'd arrived to this small confined world
And one thing he'd realized he was either a fish or an aquatic animal due to his water like surroundings.
Also the voices he heard were not from inside his world but outside
"Probably the voices of the angels. Although now that I'm recalling it I did remember a voice calling me his grandson"
. . .
"No way it Can't be"
Scratching my butt I pondered
Initially I had noticed a tail but slowly as I got bigger the tail shrunk
And each time i made movements in this space those people outside would talk praying for me, chatting with me and even singing. tho I wished they'd stop.
After spending a long time here, I realized something: whenever I vented my frustration by striking the restraints, it only made them laugh. Annoying. And if I stayed still for too long, they'd move me around. Nauseating.
Basically, I'm stuck here with no food and an absurd amount of water. The real question is—how am I still alive? I checked. No gills. So I'm definitely not a fish. Still, I did notice sharp protrusions on my head and back, along with faint scales across my scalp.
I'm probably a dragon or something.
For a while, I wondered what would happen if I popped this jelly-like skin with the pointy bits. I dismissed the idea—until another long decade passed and my horns grew thicker. That had to be the reason they existed, right? So I decided to test my theory: break the balloon from the inside.
I curled up and slammed my head into the wall.
Failed.
"…Your Majesty, it seems His Highness is about to awaken."
"…Oh? Bored of staying put, hmm. Everyone unrelated, leave. Let's wait for this calamity."
Hearing those words, I stopped struggling. I'd already tried stabbing the jelly; the pressure just redistributed and bounced back. Headbutting it only earned me pain. But why were those annoying voices calling me all sorts of things—Highness, calamity? Which one am I supposed to be?
Maybe I have a twin. Or an older sibling. After all, I was the youngest in my past life. Heh. Looks like I'm destined to be salted fish again.
But if that's the case… doesn't that make me a prince?
Honestly, I don't see much difference between my past life and this one—aside from the minor detail that I'm no longer human.
Crack.
Eh? It's cracking. Finally.
Stupid wall. You really thought you were strong? Look at you—yielding at last to this prince.
I struck again. The cracks spread wider and wider, the barrier collapsing under my growing might.
I thought I would be greeted by blinding chandeliers or the brilliance of the sun.
No.
What met me instead was an empty room.
Where are all the imps that were disturbing my slumber? I tried to say. I can finally take revenge.
"Roar."
…Eh?
Was that me just now?
No way. Let me try again.
"Roar."
What kind of baby, cute-ass roar is that? Why do I sound like a child pretending to be a tiger? This isn't right. And this place—too eerie. Too dark. Where's my palace? My gold? My servants?
Don't tell me this is another test.
No. Calm down. Don't panic.
You're better than this, Xavier.
First—assess the situation.
I'm in… huh?
Now that I actually look at it, this is a palace. A massive one. It's just… silent. Dark. Empty in a way that crawls under the skin.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Haaa.
I'm fine. Not injured. Still alive.
Clenching my hands, I froze. Wet. Sticky. My entire body felt disgusting, as if I'd been soaked in something viscous. But at least—I wasn't restrained anymore.
"Sigh."
Releasing a mouthful of turbid air, I lowered my gaze to ground myself.
As expected, I had baby hands. Baby feet.
And the so-called wall that imprisoned me before? It was nothing more than a cracked shell.
What was I—some kind of bird?
Annoyed, I stomped on the fragments, grinding them into dust. After a few steps, exhaustion crept in and I collapsed.
Lying on my back, I stared at the ceiling.
Beyond it, storms brewed outside. Thunder rolled in the distance. For some reason, it made me feel better—like the sky itself was venting my frustration for me.
Rolling onto my stomach, I took a deep breath and finally noticed what I was lying on.
A pillow.
"Oh. I guess I wasn't wrong."
I huffed in pride, only to accidentally inhale some of the powdered shell. Instead of choking, it dissolved like water inside my body, warmth spreading through my limbs.
…
I felt stronger.
The feeling of strength was like a drug. An irresistible one.
I had the sudden urge to stuff the fragments into my mouth—and as if reading my mind, they floated up and slipped in on their own like obedient shells.
Nom.
Gulp.
Haaa.
It was sweet. Not sugary sweet—more like glucose flooding my veins, instant energy, instant clarity.
Hopping onto a nearby table, I scanned my surroundings.
That was when I noticed him.
He sat at the top of the stairs on an ornate chair, staring down at me with cold, judging eyes. Who did he think he was? I clicked my tongue internally, turned away, and decided to ignore the annoyance. This new world was more interesting than some grumpy statue.
I reached a massive glass window—and the sight beyond it stole my breath.
The sky was pouring red rain.
Not water. A thick, crimson liquid cascaded from the clouds. Below, in the courtyard, a crowd of strange human-like figures chanted in a language I couldn't understand. Their voices sounded like laughter and wailing twisted together.
Then, as one, they all looked up.
Goosebumps ran through me.
I glanced at my reflection in the glass. Naked. Two curved horns. Short, dragon-like wings. Other than that, I looked human—if one ignored my dual-colored eyes.
…I looked like them.
Whatever was happening outside didn't seem like my business.
Before I could move, my body was lifted off the ground. For a moment, I thought I was flying—until I caught the reflection in the window.
It was him. The man from the chair.
He looked older than me. My father? No. No one had ever called me their son.
"Roar."
Damn it. That was all I could do—roar. My thoughts stayed locked inside.
Annoyed, I bit the hand holding me, trying to prove I wasn't someone to be messed with. It didn't work. I hadn't even grown teeth yet.
If you don't like me, then put me down.
Suckle. Suckle. Suckle.
Boom.
Thunder split the sky, illuminating his face. Our eyes met.
...
The staring contest lasted a full five minutes.
Then my stupid body gave up and chose its only remaining method of protest.
"Waaaaah!"
Never in my seventeen years of life had I been this humiliated. I'd never cried as a baby—my mother once said I was mature even at birth. And now this?
I wanted to bury myself.
But as embarrassing as it was, the heavens answered my tantrum. When I was anxious, the rain had turned red. Now, as I cried, thunder tore through the sky, destroying and killing those below.
So this was why they called me a calamity.
Screams of pain echoed. The chanting grew louder.
Were they insane? Shouldn't they be running?
I saw everything—except the faint smirk on the man's face. As if this was exactly what he wanted.
Soon, heavy footsteps approached. More men like him entered, half-kneeling and speaking in that unknown tongue.
Only then did the scumbag adjust his grip, holding me properly instead of by the horn.
The man raised a finger. Instantly, silence fell. Then he stepped forward—
Wait. Weren't we inside just a second ago?
Cold and heat assaulted me at once. Each drop of bloody rain that touched my skin felt like thousands of fire ants crawling over me. I wanted to scream, but I refused to embarrass myself again. So I endured.
Holding me by the hand, the man waved casually at the sky. The once-gloomy clouds tore apart, light spilling through.
Wow.
I stared, awestruck. The sky was crimson, a white sun hanging overhead, with a smaller greenish-blue planetary body drifting beside it.
Below us, the crowd bowed, not daring to look up.
"They look like ants from this height, don't they?" he finally spoke. "Those are your future subjects."
I recognized his voice.
The bastard who kept singing those annoying songs to me.
Songs children were supposed to love were soft and gentle. His were about death and punishment. Even the stories he told were all horror tales. Ninety percent of my nightmares were his fault.
Revenge needed to come sooner rather than later.
Unfortunately, what could a child do?
"So much killing intent from such a young soul. Sire, the hall is ready."
Turning, I saw a woman with two pairs of black wings and piercing blue eyes. She looked as young as the man, yet carried herself with absolute reverence.
…Wait.
I could understand them now.
Was it because of the rain? Or something else?
I looked around. The forests were scorched. The black rose gardens lay in ruins. Wildfires raged in the distance. Houses had collapsed—yet the palace still stood tall.
And me?
The main culprit.
My head was being patted.
It felt wrong.
Yet it felt so good.
The energy I'd spent crying flowed back into me, replenished. I wanted more. Without thinking, I absorbed it greedily, not caring about the source—like a glutton.
Along with the power came fragments of understanding.
I began to grasp where I was.
Firstly—I was this man's grandson.
His name had been lost to time.
My parents had both died in the Holy War. Their deaths brought peace. I was, apparently, already a hundred years old.
The time spent in the shell had been my incubation period. My emergence marked my birth—and my first awakening. Like every previous Demon King, it had caused a calamity.
So… I was a demon.
The heavens were truly unfair. Turning me into a demon and expecting me to commit atrocities.
I was a good, honest person—with a healthy balance of good and bad karma. How could you do this to me?!
———
Burp.
It seemed this body required energy—ghan, as this world called it—basic nutrition. By the time I snapped out of my thoughts, I was sitting on my grandfather's lap while other demons moved around, arranging what looked like a ritual.
"Don't worry," a voice whispered behind me, deep and eerily calm. "It won't kill you."
…What did he mean by won't?
I could clearly see them drawing strange circles and symbols, boiling liquid over a blue flame.