The Demon Realm forest grew quieter the deeper they marched.
No wind rustled the twisted trees. No beasts stirred in the underbrush. Even the buzzing insects, which had pestered them since the border, had fallen silent. The world felt hollow—like sound itself had been stolen away.
Kael stopped mid-step, his grin faltering for the first time since they set out. He glanced around, sweat prickling his temple. "…Anyone else feel like the world just… died?"
Lyra shifted her axe from one hand to both, the crimson braid over her shoulder brushing against the steel plates of her armor. Her eyes scanned the shadows with soldierly focus. "This isn't normal silence. Something's watching us."
The knights tightened their formation automatically, shields angled, spears pointed toward the treeline. Sir Serphiel raised a hand, his voice calm but iron-clad. "Shields up. Do not lower your guard."
Even his tone could not cut through the chill that pressed on them.
Mira hugged her staff close, her healer's robes fluttering slightly in a wind that wasn't there. Her voice trembled with the weight of intuition. "It feels like the mana itself is… holding its breath."
Darius let out a shaky chuckle, though it lacked his usual bite. "Or maybe the forest just doesn't like visitors. Hospitality's different in the demon lands, right?"
No one laughed. Even Kael didn't retort this time.
They pressed on, boots crunching against cracked earth that pulsed faintly with glowing veins of red mana. Each footfall seemed too loud, as though they were stomping across the back of something alive. The deeper they went, the stronger the sense grew—this place had a heartbeat, and it was waiting.
Then—
ding.
The sound was faint. Not metal, not birdcall. A light chime, like glass tapping against stone.
The strike team froze as one. Knights raised shields, adventurers gripped their weapons, even the horses stamped nervously against the ground.
And then came a boy's voice.
Soft, lilting, sing-song. Almost mocking.
"…One…"
Heads whipped toward the sound, but nothing stirred in the shadows.
"…Two…"
Closer this time. The voice of a child, but steady. Confident. Counting as if this were a game.
"…Three…"
The silence cracked under the weight of every number.
Kael muttered, his voice uncharacteristically low. "This… this brat's screwing with us."
"…Four…"
Liora stepped forward, her silver armor glinting faintly, her blade trembling under the grip of her white-knuckled hands. She scanned the trees, her jaw clenched.
"…Five… six…"
The adventurers shifted closer to the knights without meaning to. Their banter, their bravado—all gone now, smothered under the sing-song rhythm echoing through the forest.
Even Serphiel's shoulders stiffened under his crimson cloak, though his voice stayed calm, cutting the air like a blade. "Show yourself."
"…Seven…"
The count drew nearer. The forest itself seemed to shrink inward.
"…Eight…"
The knights braced. The adventurers' breathing grew ragged.
"…Nine…"
The silence after the ninth was unbearable, stretched tight like a bowstring ready to snap.
"…Ten."
The word dropped like a hammer, heavy and absolute.
From the treeline, shadows stirred.
A boy stepped out barefoot, geta sandals dangling from one hand. His attire was black and gold, silk overlay shimmering faintly in the dim red light, its golden trim catching like fire. His chest was bare where the ceremonial cut of his clothes exposed muscle that seemed carved, unnatural for his age. His golden eyes gleamed like molten metal, bright enough to catch every gaze and hold it.
Asura smiled.
"You made it," he said brightly, his childlike voice carrying too clearly in the suffocating silence. "I was starting to get bored."
The knights bristled, shields rising, weapons at the ready. The adventurers stared, wide-eyed, struggling to reconcile the boy in front of them with the rumors of the child who had slaughtered ten men.
And then Asura moved, casual as if he were in a garden and not a battlefield. He lifted Yamikami no Tsurugi with one hand, resting it across his shoulders like it weighed less than air. The sword hummed faintly, answering the gathering tension.
His grin widened, playful—but edged with something sharp enough to draw blood.
"So," he asked, tilting his head in mock innocence, "are we playing knight and monster today? Or should I skip to the part where you stop laughing?"
The air grew heavier. The red glow in the ground's veins pulsed faster, like the forest itself was reacting to his presence.
And for the first time, some of them realized—
This wasn't just a boy.
This was the Demon King's heir.
✦ Mocking the Prince
For a heartbeat, silence held. The boy stood barefoot in the clearing, geta sandals dangling from one hand, golden eyes gleaming like twin embers. His grin was stretched wide, daring them to laugh.
Kael, predictably, couldn't resist. He barked out a laugh so loud it startled one of the younger knights. "This? This is the demon prince everyone's been whispering about?" He slapped his thigh, still chuckling. "I was expecting a horned juggernaut swinging a mountain for a club, not some brat who looks like he snuck out of the nursery."
Darius let out a low whistle, lounging on the edge of his dagger hilts with a smirk. "Careful, Kael. Brats like that bite when you're not looking."
Lyra tilted her head, axe balanced casually over one shoulder. "A child, barefoot in the woods. Valoria really wasted its knights if they lost to this."
Even some of the armored knights allowed themselves a chuckle, shaking their heads. One leaned to another and muttered, "The Demon King must be desperate, sending a child to meet us."
Only Sir Serphiel remained still, eyes gleaming in the red glow, his voice carrying through the jeers. Calm. Controlled. A warning wrapped in steel. "Don't be careless. Appearances deceive."
But his words drowned under the adventurers' banter.
Kael flourished his sword like a stage actor, dropping into a mock bow with a flourish. "Forgive us, your highness. Should we surrender now, or will you at least give us the honor of making you sweat first?"
A few of the knights snickered. Even Lyra's lip twitched faintly in amusement.
Asura tilted his head, geta sandal still balanced in his palm like a toy. His voice was light, airy—childish. "Sweat? That's a human thing. I don't remember the last time I had to try that hard."
The words hung in the air. Some laughed, some smirked, but something in the way he said it—offhand, casual, like fact rather than boast—curdled the humor at its edges.
Liora, sharp-eyed among the knights, folded her arms. "Arrogant little devil."
Asura's smile didn't waver. But his golden eyes flickered, brightening, sharpening. His voice dropped just enough to crawl into their bones.
"Arrogant… or honest?"
CRACK.
The geta sandal snapped shut in his hand like a whip, the sound echoing through the clearing far too loud, far too sharp. The knights stiffened. Even Kael's grin faltered for a heartbeat.
And then—
He was gone.
The boy vanished from where he stood, air shuddering in his absence. In the blink of an eye, he was behind Kael. The geta swung lazily, almost playfully, into Kael's ribs.
BAM.
The sound of impact rang out like a drum. Kael stumbled forward with a strangled gasp, sword slipping from his fingers and clattering into the dirt. He clutched his side, eyes wide with pain and shock.
The boy hadn't even drawn his sword.
Asura yawned, twirling the geta between his fingers like it was nothing more than a stick. "That was me…" His grin widened, fangs flashing in the red light. "…playing around."
He tilted his head, golden eyes gleaming brighter, darker. "Still laughing?"
The clearing went quiet. Even the insects dared not chirp.
The knights shifted uneasily, shields raising higher, boots digging into the earth. The adventurers' banter shriveled on their tongues. Lyra's grip on her axe tightened until the leather creaked. Darius, usually quick with a joke, only swallowed hard. Eldrin's staff glowed faintly at the ready.
Kael wheezed, trying to recover his pride, glaring through the pain. "Tch… lucky hit."
Asura's smile deepened, his eyes narrowing with a glint that was neither childish nor kind. His voice was soft—mocking, but edged with something razor-sharp.
"Yeah. Let's call it that."
The forest pulsed with his aura. The red veins in the ground throbbed faster, the air thickening until every breath scraped their throats.
The laughter died completely. What had begun as jeers now curdled into tension thick enough to choke.
And in that silence, every soul in the clearing knew—
the clash was inevitable.
✦ Escalation of the Clash
For a heartbeat, no one moved.
Kael grit his teeth, rubbing the welt on his ribs where Asura's geta sandal had struck. His pride burned hotter than the pain, his blond hair falling messily across his face as he snarled. "You little bastard. Don't think you can humiliate me and walk away."
He drew his sword with a sharp hiss, steel flashing in the red-tinted light. "Time to cut that grin off your face."
Asura only tilted his head, golden eyes glimmering. "Finally. A swordsman. I was starting to worry all you guys packed the wrong weapons." He spun the geta sandal in his hand like a baton, smirking. "Want me to duel you with this instead?"
Kael roared, charging. His blade slashed in a flurry—overhead, diagonal, thrusts aimed for Asura's chest. Sparks rang out with every clash.
Whap. Whap. Whap.
The wooden sandal deflected every strike with casual flicks, the boy yawning mid-swing. His bare feet skated lightly across the cracked earth, not a hint of effort in his movements.
"Nice form," Asura said cheerfully, his geta meeting Kael's steel with a sharp clonk. "Bit stiff, though. Maybe loosen the shoulders? Swordsmanship should flow, not creak like rusty armor."
Kael's cheeks flushed red. "Shut up!" He lunged forward with all his strength, aiming to pierce the boy through—
But Asura wasn't there.
He reappeared a step behind Kael, balancing the geta on his fingertip like a toy. "Too slow."
Kael spun, but the sandal tapped his forehead with a dull bonk. His vision blurred, his pride shattered.
Behind him, Darius whistled. "Hells, Kael—you just got schooled by footwear."
Kael barked back, "Shut it!"
"Then let me try," Lyra growled. She surged forward, braid whipping, her massive axe gleaming. With a roar, she swung in a two-handed cleave strong enough to split a carriage in half.
BOOM!
The ground cracked as her blade bit deep into stone. Dust clouded the air.
When it cleared—Asura was standing on the flat of her axe, balancing effortlessly on one foot, geta twirling lazily in his hand.
"Whoa," he said with mock awe. "That was almost scary. If you'd aimed two inches higher, you might've nicked my pants."
Lyra snarled, yanking her axe free. He flipped lightly into the air, landing on the shoulders of one of Serphiel's knights. The armored man cried out in shock, only to be tapped on the helm with the geta.
CLONK.
The knight toppled like a felled tree.
Asura sighed. "Really? That was one hit. You guys are making me look like the final boss in a parody spin-off."
That broke the knights' composure. "Kill him!" one shouted, surging forward.
Steel clashed. Shields bashed. A half-dozen knights rushed him at once, blades flashing in coordinated strikes.
Asura weaved through them like a shadow with golden eyes. The geta cracked against armored knees, wrists, and helms. Each strike rang out with humiliating clarity.
One knight dropped his sword with a pained grunt. Another staggered as the sandal smacked his temple. A third was spun in place, his shield wrenched from his grip by a playful flick of the wooden heel.
"You know," Asura mused, spinning between them, "this is actually fun. Like a bonus level before the real game starts. You guys should come with score multipliers."
"ENOUGH!" Darius lunged in, daggers flashing in a flurry. He darted low, fast, aiming for Asura's exposed torso.
The boy leaned back at the waist, daggers slicing harmlessly above him. He cartwheeled away, twirling the geta like a dancer's prop. "Ooooh, flashy! I'll give you style points for that one."
"Stop mocking us!" Darius snarled, striking again.
CRACK.
The geta snapped across his knuckles, sending his dagger flying. A follow-up heel clipped his nose. Darius fell back, cursing, blood spilling down his face.
Asura blinked innocently. "Oh no, your nose! Want me to heal it? Just kidding—I don't do refunds."
At last, Eldrin rose from where he'd been silent, his staff glowing with runes. His old voice thundered with a spell. "Enough games, boy. Burn!"
A wave of fire roared forward, engulfing the field in searing heat.
The knights and adventurers shielded their eyes. When the flames cleared—
Asura was standing, unharmed, geta raised casually. The fire had split around him like water around a rock. He blew on the sandal's edge as if dusting off ash.
"Seriously? That's your big spell? Took you thirty years to learn it, right? And I blocked it with footwear." He winked. "Embarrassing."
The air grew heavier. His golden eyes gleamed brighter, playful but edged with something feral.
Randel finally stepped forward, spear leveled, his tone calm but grim. "Stop laughing. He's not a child—he's a predator."
Asura tilted his head, smirk widening. "Finally! Someone gets it."
He spun the geta once, resting it across his shoulders like a blade. The ground beneath his bare feet cracked faintly with the pulse of his aura.
"Good," he said, voice dripping with cheer that didn't match the lethal edge in his eyes. "Because now the real game starts."
The forest seemed to bend inward. The laughter died.
And the strike team realized too late—
They hadn't come to hunt a boy.
They'd walked straight into the jaws of a monster.
✦ The Demon Prince Unleashed
The air was thick with tension.
Half the knights groaned on the ground, clutching bruises and dents in their armor, courtesy of a wooden sandal. Darius spat blood, Kael glared murder, and even Lyra's chest rose and fell with restrained fury.
No one was laughing now.
Sir Serphiel stepped forward, crimson cloak brushing the dirt, his sword raised in a precise guard. His helm reflected the crimson haze of the Demon Realm sky, voice calm but edged like a honed blade.
"Form ranks," he ordered. "This child isn't playing. Fight as if you face a general, not a boy."
The knights obeyed instantly, shields locking, spears thrusting outward.
The adventurers followed suit. Randel planted his spear in the earth, eyes narrowing. "No more jokes. We move together, or we die alone."
Kael growled, flipping his sword in hand. "Finally."
Lyra cracked her neck, braid whipping over her shoulder. "I'll take point. He won't slip past me this time."
Eldrin lifted his staff, runes glowing brighter. Darius wiped the blood from his mouth and readied his second dagger, crouched low like a wolf preparing to strike.
The formation tightened. The strike team was no longer underestimating their opponent.
But Asura… only grinned.
He twirled his geta sandal lazily, golden eyes gleaming like twin suns. His bare feet pressed into the soil, toes curling slightly against the black stone. His aura flared just enough to make the ground tremble.
"Now you look like you're taking me seriously," he said cheerfully. "Good. Otherwise, this would be way too boring."
Then he moved.
The First Break
Asura blurred forward, faster than before. The knights thrust their spears in unison, a forest of steel meant to impale him.
CRACK!
The geta slammed against the first spear, shattering the shaft in half. He pivoted, sandal heel crashing into a knight's helm, dropping him unconscious instantly.
The others reacted quickly, shields slamming together, spears driving at his torso—
But he was already gone.
Reappearing behind them, geta spinning in his hand like a windmill. It cracked against shields, against elbows, against knees. Each hit rang like a drumbeat, breaking formation with humiliating ease.
"Come on," Asura mocked. "Don't tell me Valoria's pride breaks this fast."
The Adventurers Strike Back
"Now!" Randel barked.
Lyra surged forward with a roar, axe blazing with mana. She cleaved downward with such force the ground split. At the same time, Kael's sword slashed in a deadly arc, while Darius darted low for Asura's legs.
Eldrin's staff flared—"Bind!"—and glowing chains of mana snaked upward from the earth, snapping around Asura's wrists and ankles.
The trap was perfect.
For a moment, Asura actually looked surprised. "Oh? You guys can coordinate."
The chains yanked tight. Lyra's axe descended, Kael's sword gleamed, Darius's dagger darted—
BOOOOM.
The ground exploded.
The chains shattered as obsidian-black aura erupted from Asura's body. The blast sent Lyra stumbling, Kael thrown back, Darius rolling across the dirt. Eldrin's eyes widened as his spell disintegrated like paper in a fire.
Asura stood in the center, geta raised, aura flaring like a living storm. His grin widened, half-childlike, half-feral.
"Not bad. But you forgot something…"
He blurred.
WHAM! Kael's sword was slapped from his grip by the geta heel, clattering into the dirt.
BAM! Lyra's axe swing was diverted midair with a casual sandal flick, spinning her off balance.
THUNK! Darius yelped as the geta smacked his wrist, sending his dagger flying.
Asura spun the geta like a drumstick, laughing. "You guys trained for years to master those weapons, huh? Shame I'm beating you with shoes."
Serphiel Moves
The knights faltered, but Sir Serphiel did not. His sword glowed crimson, energy wreathing the blade like fire. He advanced with precise, deliberate steps, every movement heavy with discipline.
He slashed.
Unlike the others, his blade didn't meet wood. Asura's geta deflected, but the impact rang louder, heavier. His grin faltered for the first time.
"Ohh," Asura whispered, eyes narrowing. "Finally, someone interesting."
They clashed again. Sparks flew. Serphiel's strikes were deliberate, crushing, precise—forcing Asura to meet him head-on rather than slip away. Each blow rang like thunder.
Behind Serphiel, the adventurers regrouped, their eyes burning with determination. Lyra raised her axe again. Kael snatched his sword from the ground. Eldrin began chanting, power gathering at his staff. Randel leveled his spear, his face grim.
The fight was escalating.
The Prince Responds
Asura laughed—wild, giddy. His aura flared brighter, golden eyes blazing like molten suns. The geta hardened in his hand, its obsidian sheen thickening into something unbreakable, like liquid armor solidifying mid-swing.
"Alright," he said, voice low, dangerous. "No more warm-up."
He vanished.
The forest exploded with motion.
Knights were flung like ragdolls as the geta cracked into shields, armor, and helms. Adventurers barely blocked in time—Randel's spear sparked against the sandal, Kael's blade met a whirling heel, Lyra's axe rang out as the geta turned it aside.
Darius lunged again, but Asura ducked, sandal smacking his chin with brutal precision. The rogue hit the dirt, groaning.
"Stay down," Asura mocked. "Or I'll have to start keeping score."
Eldrin shouted an incantation, unleashing a torrent of lightning. It tore through the clearing, blinding light searing against the twisted trees.
The smoke cleared—
Asura stood untouched, geta raised like a shield, aura shimmering faintly around him. He yawned.
"That all you got?"
The ground trembled under the weight of his aura. His grin widened into something feral, almost cruel.
"Your turn's over," he said softly.
The strike team finally realized—
They weren't facing a boy.
They were facing the heir of the Demon King.
And he hadn't even drawn his sword.
✦ Martial Demon Arts
The clearing was wrecked.
Trees split in half, the ground torn into jagged craters, knights groaning in heaps. The adventurers staggered but refused to fall—Randel's knuckles white on his spear, Kael's blade trembling in his grip, Lyra's axe dripping with mana, Darius crouched low with blood on his chin, Eldrin's staff glowing faintly as he gathered what energy he had left.
Sir Serphiel stood at the front, cloak tattered, his sword humming faintly with crimson light. His stance was unbroken, but even his breath misted faintly in the air, betraying the effort.
Across from them stood Asura.
The boy was barefoot now, geta dangling from his fingers, his black-and-gold attire untouched despite the chaos. His golden eyes glowed like molten suns. His aura pulsed, dark and heavy, pressing on every chest like an ocean current.
And then—he exhaled.
A soundless shift rippled through the battlefield.
Martial Demon Arts Unleashed
Ding!
His system chimed in his mind:
Martial Demon Arts – Lv. 6 Activated.
Asura dropped the geta sandal. It clattered softly on the stone.
He raised his hands—no sword, no weapon—just his fists.
The first step cracked the ground. His small frame blurred, vanishing before the knights' eyes.
WHAM!
A knight's shield caved inward, launching him into the trees. CRACK! Another knight screamed as Asura spun-kicked his helmet clean off, the force ringing like a gong.
Randel lunged with his spear—fast, precise, meant to pin. But Asura caught the haft with two fingers, golden eyes blazing.
"Too slow."
He snapped the shaft in half with a twist of his wrist and drove his knee into Randel's chest, sending the seasoned adventurer flying back into Kael.
Kael cursed, struggling to hold them both up.
"Damn brat—!" He swung his sword, mana trailing in a silver arc.
Asura leaned aside. Barely. Just enough for the blade to kiss his cheek. Then his elbow struck Kael's stomach, air exploding from the blond's lungs.
Serphiel Intervenes
Sir Serphiel was there in an instant. His sword roared with crimson fire as he slashed downward. Unlike the others, his strike forced Asura to defend. The boy's arm hardened, obsidian-black aura coating his skin like living armor.
CLANG!
Steel met flesh—and steel lost. Serphiel's blade sparked as Asura's forearm blocked it like iron.
The boy grinned. "See? Now this is fun."
He pivoted, fist glowing with compressed mana, and drove it toward Serphiel's chest.
BOOOOM!
The shockwave tore the ground open, knights and adventurers staggering back. Serphiel slid across the dirt, boots carving furrows, his crimson cloak burning at the edges.
But his stance remained. His sword lifted again, glowing brighter.
Adventurers Push Back
"NOW!" Eldrin roared. His staff blazed as he unleashed a storm of lightning bolts that crashed down around Asura, sparks splitting the air.
Lyra charged through the flashes, axe raised high. "HYAAA!"
Darius slipped behind the arcs, daggers gleaming.
Randel coughed blood but still drove forward with the broken half of his spear, desperate to pin the boy again.
Together, they struck.
Asura's grin widened. His fists blurred—blocking Lyra's axe, kicking Darius into the dirt, twisting Randel's broken spear free and snapping it again. Eldrin's lightning bolts? They bent around his obsidian aura, striking the earth harmlessly.
And then Asura crouched low, muscles coiled.
"Martial Demon Arts… Flowing Breaker!"
He launched upward, spinning like a cyclone, his kick blasting Lyra across the clearing like a cannonball. The impact shook the ground, a shockwave flattening trees at the edges of the battlefield.
Kael staggered up again, fury on his face, but the fear in his eyes betrayed him.
Awakening Stirs
Serphiel pressed forward once more, sword glowing like a star, each swing faster, heavier. Asura blocked with fists and kicks, obsidian aura growing thicker, until black markings began to crawl faintly across his skin.
His system chimed.
True Demon Lord Awakening – Progression 74% → 77%.
The golden glow in his eyes deepened, darker, sharper.
Each movement blurred faster than before, each strike heavier. His laughter echoed across the battlefield, childlike yet terrifying.
"You're strong, Commander," Asura admitted, voice sharp between strikes. His fists hammered Serphiel's blade again and again, each clash ringing like thunder. "But not enough to stop me."
He spun low, his kick colliding with Serphiel's guard, sending the knight sliding back again, cracks webbing through the earth.
Serphiel's breath came heavier now, his shoulders rising with effort. For the first time, sweat beaded at his brow.
And still Asura pressed forward, fists wreathed in aura, movements sharper, faster—his Martial Demon Arts evolving mid-battle.
The knights and adventurers stood at the edge of the clearing, eyes wide, breaths shallow.
Kael muttered hoarsely, "He's not… he's not even using his sword…"
Lyra dragged herself up, axe trembling in her grip. "This isn't a child."
Darius spat blood, laughter hollow. "…This is a damn demon."
And Eldrin, staff shaking in his grasp, whispered, "No. This is worse. This is something new."
At the center of it all, Asura's golden eyes blazed brighter. His aura pulsed heavier. His grin was sharper, hungrier.
And the silent truth settled on them all:
The fight had only just begun.
✦The Prince Awakens
The battlefield was rubble. Craters smoked, trees lay shattered, knights groaned in broken heaps, and the adventurers clung to weapons slick with blood and sweat. Only Sir Serphiel still stood firm, though his crimson cloak was in tatters, his armor dented from the boy's fists.
And then Asura laughed.
It wasn't mocking this time. It was wild. Exhilarated. A child who had found the game he'd been waiting for.
His system screamed.
True Demon Lord Awakening – Incomplete Form Activated.
Progression: 77% → 81%.
Black markings erupted across his arms and chest like living script, curling in demonic patterns. His golden eyes burned brighter, pupils narrowing into slits. Two faint, jagged horns shimmered into being above his brow, crackling faintly with unstable mana.
The pressure of his aura slammed across the clearing like a tidal wave. Knights staggered, adventurers fell to one knee. Even Serphiel's legs trembled, his sword vibrating in his grip.
"…So this is it," the commander muttered. "The power that killed ten of ours."
Asura's grin stretched wider, sharp and gleaming. His voice rang with youthful cheer twisted by raw power.
"Not bad, old man. But it's my turn now."
The Domination
He vanished.
BOOOOM!
Serphiel's sword arm buckled as Asura's knee smashed into his guard, the impact shaking the ground. A heartbeat later, the boy's elbow crashed into the knight's chestplate, denting it inward.
"Too slow!" Asura sang, spinning low to sweep Serphiel's legs.
The commander crashed down, rolling to one knee, sword barely intercepting the boy's descending fist. Sparks screamed as blade met aura.
But Asura didn't relent. He blurred again, fists a storm. Each strike rang like thunder, forcing Serphiel back step by step. For the first time, the commander grunted with effort, breath tearing in his throat.
Lyra's voice cracked as she shouted, "He's… he's pushing Serphiel back!"
The adventurers froze, disbelief etched into every face. Kael, bruised and wheezing, muttered, "This isn't… this isn't real…"
The Finish
Asura's markings flared, his aura boiling like a storm. He crouched low, fangs bared.
"Awakening Burst!"
He launched upward, fist slamming into Serphiel's chest. The shockwave rippled like an earthquake, throwing knights and adventurers sprawling. Serphiel's armor cracked. His sword flew from his hand, burying itself blade-first in the dirt.
The commander collapsed to one knee, panting, cloak in shreds.
And above him, Asura stood—small, barefoot, chest glowing with demonic script, golden eyes blazing with triumph.
He raised a hand, mana curling around his fingers like a claw.
"One more hit, and you're done. Guess that means I win—"
Selene Appears
"Asura!"
The voice cut through the haze like a blade.
Asura froze. Slowly, he turned.
At the edge of the clearing stood Selene, violet eyes blazing, hands clenched at her sides. Her maid uniform was pristine, but her presence radiated command stronger than any knight.
"You've done enough," she said firmly, each word carrying weight. "Stand down."
The air shifted. The adventurers blinked in shock, staring between the furious maid and the boy who had just brought their strongest knight to his knees.
Asura's shoulders slumped. His horns flickered and shrunk, markings retreating back into his skin. The storm of mana died away.
His golden eyes softened, but his pout returned—childish and defiant.
"…Tch. You ruined my fun, Selene."
He kicked at a stone, sending it skittering across the ruined ground.
The Aftermath
The adventurers exchanged wide-eyed glances. Darius let out a shaky laugh. "Wait… he listened? Just like that?"
Kael blinked, wiping blood from his lip. "And… he calls that fun?"
Randel, clutching his ribs, muttered hoarsely, "We're alive. That's all that matters."
Asura looked at them, tilting his head, his grin creeping back. "Oh, don't look so scared. I was going to let you all go anyway. Just a couple of bruises—that's all."
The adventurers froze, caught between disbelief and confusion. Kael muttered, "Bruises?! You nearly broke Serphiel in half!"
Yet… something in the boy's tone didn't feel cruel.
Maybe, they thought, he wasn't the monster the rumors painted him to be.
But the knights? Their glares were cold, sharp. To them, the truth was clear.
This wasn't a boy.
This was a monster in a child's skin.
And as the smoke cleared from the battlefield, that divide hung heavy in the air.