Demon king POV
"For that, my little king, we have to go back in time to the moment where I was
not known as the Demon King but as the God of Death."
The weight of my own words lingered in the air, heavy and unshakable. Lucian said
nothing, his crimson-stained armor glinting under the dim, flickering remnants of
a shattered sky. He didn't need to speak; his silence was an unspoken command to
continue, his eyes fixed on me like a blade at my throat.
I exhaled slowly, letting the memories rise. "Before this—before Hell, before
demons, before I was a king—there was only the Supreme Pantheon."
My voice, though steady, carried a bitterness I hadn't felt in centuries. The past
was a sharp, jagged thing, but tonight, it demanded to be unearthed. I turned my
gaze to the horizon, where the ruins of this world bled into the abyss, and began
my tale.
"The Supreme God, the Father of All, was the architect of existence. He shaped
light and darkness, heavens and hells, order and chaos. And by his side stood the
Supreme Goddess—the Mother of All Creation. Together, they maintained the
balance of the cosmos, their powers intertwined like threads in a grand tapestry."
I paused, glancing at Lucian. His expression betrayed nothing, but the subtle
tension in his frame told me he was absorbing every word.
"And then there were their children. Three of us."
I closed my eyes for a moment, summoning the image of a time long gone.
"Solarin was the eldest—the God of Life. His presence was like the sun itself,
warm, blinding, and absolute. The mortals adored him, sang his praises, and knelt
in his light. But Solarin's charm was a mask, one that hid an insatiable hunger for
power."
My voice hardened slightly, the corners of my mouth curling into a faint smirk.
"Then there was Aethelis, the Goddess of Time. She was calm, wise, and endlessly
patient. While Solarin basked in the adoration of the masses, Aethelis watched
from the shadows, wielding time like a blade. She was the diplomat, the
peacemaker, the one who held us together."
The smirk faded, replaced by a grim set to my jaw.
"And then there was me. Thanarion—the youngest, the God of Death."
I let the title hang in the air, as cold and unyielding as the grave.
"Where Solarin gave life and Aethelis gave it purpose, I brought it to its end. My
role was to maintain the balance, to ensure that death was not a curse, but a
release. But the mortals didn't see it that way. To them, I was a monster, a
harbinger of despair. Even my siblings looked at me with thinly veiled contempt,
as if my duty stained the family name."
Lucian shifted slightly, the faint scrape of his boot against the ground breaking
the silence. I pressed on, my voice gaining a sharper edge.
"We were not a perfect family. Far from it. The Supreme God and Goddess gave
us roles, yes—but they also gave us free will. And that, little king, is where
everything unraveled."
I turned my gaze back to Lucian, my crimson eyes boring into his.
"Do you want to know how it all began? How the Supreme Family shattered under
the weight of its own pride and ambition?"
Lucian's lips tightened, but he didn't respond. That was answer enough.
"Very well." My tone darkened, the bitterness now laced with something far more
dangerous. "To understand what I became, you must first understand the
Supreme God's greatest mistake: believing that power could ever remain in
balance."
"The Supreme God had always spoken of balance," I began, my voice a low rumble
that echoed in the stillness. "Life and death, creation and destruction, time and
eternity. He preached that these forces could coexist in perfect harmony, a
delicate dance where no one aspect would ever outweigh the other."
I shook my head, a dry, humorless laugh escaping my lips.
"But balance is a lie. It's a fleeting illusion that shatters the moment desire takes
root."
I turned to face Lucian fully, my crimson eyes gleaming with memories that felt
as vivid as they were damning.
"The Supreme God intended to retire, to relinquish his authority and leave
creation in the hands of the Supreme Goddess. She was his equal in power, his
counterpart in all things. Together, they maintained the balance of the cosmos.
But Solarin—our beloved elder brother—couldn't accept that. He saw himself as
the rightful heir, the one most deserving of ultimate power."
I began to pace slowly, each step measured and deliberate, as if walking through
the very timeline I described.
"The God of Life was charismatic, yes, but beneath that radiant smile was a soul
consumed by ambition. He believed his control over life itself made him superior,
that he alone could shape the destiny of all creation."
I stopped, my expression hardening.
"But his hunger wasn't what doomed us. It was his willingness to act on it."
Lucian's jaw tightened, his silence a silent demand for more.
"It began with whispers," I continued, my voice softening slightly. "Solarin spent
years planting doubts in the hearts of the gods, spreading rumors of the Supreme
Goddess's inability to lead. He claimed her power was fading, that she was unfit
to wield the mantle of the Supreme. At first, no one believed him. But seeds of
doubt, once planted, grow like weeds."
I clenched my fists, the memory stoking the embers of a rage I thought long
extinguished.
"He didn't stop there. Solarin's desire for power consumed him, twisting his love
for our mother into something vile. He betrayed her in the most unforgivable
way—by taking her life and framing me for the crime."
The air seemed to grow heavier, thick with the weight of my words.
"I was already feared, already reviled. The God of Death, after all, is an easy
target. And Solarin used that fear to his advantage. He staged the entire scene
perfectly. There was no proof of my innocence, only the damning evidence he left
behind. The Supreme Court fell for his lies, and I..."
I paused, the bitterness in my tone cutting like a blade.
"I was exiled. Cast out from the Pantheon and stripped of my place in creation.
All I had left was my rage."
Lucian's gaze burned into me, but I pressed on, unwilling to let the past remain
buried.
"I turned that rage into something new. I created my own domain—a space outside
the Supreme God's reach. I shaped it with my power, forged it from the ashes of
my despair. The mortals called it Hell, and those who followed me became demons.
I gave them purpose, a place to belong. And in turn, they gave me their loyalty."
I let out a slow breath, my voice dropping to a near-whisper.
"And so, the war began. Eons of bloodshed, destruction, and death. But even then,
I was blind to the greatest betrayal of all."
I stopped pacing and turned to Lucian, my gaze piercing.
"It was Aethelis who ended the war. My beloved sister—the one who saw through
Solarin's lies—sealed me away. She claimed it was to protect me, but she never
told me the truth. Not until it was too late."
I stepped closer, my shadow falling over him.
"Do you understand now, Lucian? You were not the first to be used as a pawn in
this endless game. But you are the last. And for that..." My voice softened, a rare
flicker of sincerity cutting through the bitterness. "For that, I am grateful."
I paused, letting the weight of my story sink in. Lucian's expression remained
unreadable, but I could sense the storm brewing behind his eyes.
"But you didn't bring me back just to hear my tale," I said, my tone shifting to
something darker. "So tell me, my little king, what will you do with the truth?"
Lucian stood there, silent, as the weight of my words sank into him. His fists
clenched tightly at his sides, the veins in his arms visible as his anger began to
simmer. The fire in his eyes wasn't one of acceptance or understanding—it was
pure, unfiltered rage.
"So that's it," he growled, his voice trembling with barely restrained fury. "All
this time... everything I've done... I was just another piece on your board. Another
pawn for your revenge."
I held his gaze, unflinching. "You weren't just a pawn, Lucian. You were the key.
The one who succeeded where all others failed. You—"
"Don't," he snapped, taking a step forward. "Don't you dare twist this into some
twisted form of gratitude. You used me, just like everyone else in my life. And
for what? To settle a grudge? To take back what you lost?"
I didn't answer. There was no need to.
Lucian's breaths came faster now, his chest rising and falling as the storm inside
him reached its peak. The flicker of red in his eyes began to intensify, burning
brighter with each passing moment.
"Do you know what I hate most about this?" he spat, his voice cracking. "It's not
the lies. It's not even the manipulation. It's the fact that you made me believe in
you. I thought..." He stopped, shaking his head, his voice lowering into a dangerous
growl. "I thought you were helping me."
The air around us grew heavy, charged with the crackling energy of his rising
power. His words, sharp as knives, cut through the space between us.
"And now?" I asked calmly, my tone laced with curiosity. "What will you do now
that you know the truth?"
Lucian didn't answer immediately. His head lowered, his fists shaking as the power
coursing through him threatened to boil over. When he finally spoke, his voice was
low, deadly.
"Now? I make my own path. And I don't need you—or anyone else—to show me the
way."
The ground beneath us cracked as his aura surged, the crimson glow in his eyes
now consuming them entirely. The mark on his chest burned brighter, pulsing with
power as if responding to his rage.
For the first time in eons, I felt something strange—a flicker of unease.
"Then so be it," I said, my voice steady, though my gaze never left his.
Lucian turned away, his steps slow but deliberate. His voice rang out one last time,
filled with cold determination.
"This isn't over. Not for me. And not for you."
As he disappeared into the darkness, I allowed myself a small, grim smile.
"No, my little king," I murmured to the shadows. "It's only just begun."