22. Lord of Demons

Seiito's footsteps echoed through the narrow hall until they led him to an ornate throne room, small yet brimming with an unsettling grandeur.

At the center sat a woman whose presence filled the air like a storm on the horizon. She wore a dress of pure darkness, elegant yet sinister, as if shadows themselves had woven her attire.

Her skin was porcelain-pale, but her eyes—bright, gem-like, glowing with an ethereal blue—sparkled with unsettling vitality. Long, cascading hair fell like a waterfall down her back, the deep blue strands shimmering under the dim light.

"Greetings, Hero from another world." Her voice was soft yet carried a weight that demanded attention. With a graceful motion, she rose from the throne. "I am Irene, caretaker of the World Tower."

Seiito's fists clenched instinctively, his heart pounding in his chest. "You… own this place?"

Irene shook her head gently, a smile playing at her lips. "No, I do not own it. I am merely its caretaker."

A storm of questions swirled in Seiito's mind, but one burned brighter than the rest. His eyes sharpened, and he took a step forward. "Was it you? The one behind those…miracles?"

Her expression remained serene, but a flicker of amusement crossed her gaze, as if she found his question endearing. "Miracles, thou say? Ah… yes." She paused, savoring the moment before offering a gentle nod. "Marry, I saved thou from perpetual wink."

The confirmation hit him like a blow, but it wasn't enough. He needed to understand why.

"Why would you do that?" Seiito's gaze bore into her, filled with anger, confusion—and something close to desperation. "Why save me? What do you want from me?"

Irene smiled again, the kind of smile that made it impossible to tell if it was kindness or cruelty. "Hast thou not noticed, young one? thou wield a power no ordinary mortal could aye owe"

Seiito's jaw tightened, frustration bubbling to the surface. "What does that have to do with anything?" His voice dripped with venom, his patience unraveling. "I asked why!"

Unfazed by his outburst, Irene remained composed, her expression gentle yet unreadable. "Because I chose thou," she whispered, as if it were the simplest truth in the world.

Seiito's fists trembled. "Choose me? Why me? You've seen how weak I was… how close to death I came—over and over again. You kept saving me. Why?" His voice faltered, softening into something almost fragile. "Why me?"

Irene stepped closer, her presence like a cold breeze curling around him. "Because, Seiito, thou art special."

"That's bullshit," he muttered, his voice cracking under the weight of disbelief.

But Irene's smile didn't waver. "I am telling thou sooth. Thou hast what it takes to become a Lord."

The word Lord echoed in Seiito's mind, stirring something deep within him. He had heard it before—seen it written in books, spoken in whispers—but it had never truly made sense until now.

Seiito's mind raced, scrambling to make sense of the fragments swirling in his thoughts.

"A... Lord?" he whispered under his breath, the words foreign on his tongue. His voice wavered, suspended between disbelief and cautious curiosity. It was a term he'd heard before, but its weight now felt entirely different.

Irene's gaze never wavered, her gem-like blue eyes burning with intensity. "Hark carefully, young one," she said, her voice steady, commanding. "I am, Lord of Demons."

Seiito's breath hitched, his body stiffening in disbelief. "W-what?" His voice cracked as the realization sank in. "A Demon Lord...? What the hell is a Demon Lord doing here?"

Irene's expression remained calm, though her gaze was unwavering, like a predator watching its prey squirm. "And I," she continued, "have chosen thou...to become a Lord."

Her eyes gleamed with something beyond mere intent—something ancient and absolute, as though the weight of countless fates rested upon her declaration.

Seiito swallowed hard, his throat dry. "You chose... me?"

Irene's expression hardened, her elegance radiating a regal authority. "Yes. Thou. And there's none else 'i this realm moe suited to bear this mantle than thou."

Seiito's pulse pounded in his ears. There was something terrifying about her certainty—something that made it impossible to look away. "But...why? I don't get it!" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Why would you, of all people, choose me?"

Irene took a step closer, her movements fluid and graceful, like a wraith dancing through moonlight. "Thou hast potential, Seiito. The kind that surpasses mortal limitations. The instant thou stepped foot 'i this tower, thy fate was set 'i motion."

Seiito gritted his teeth, frustration boiling beneath the surface. "I don't understand any of this... What is this power? What does becoming a 'Lord' even mean?"

Irene gave a knowing smile, the kind that felt both reassuring and unnerving. "All shall be discovered anon enough. Yet ere thou wield this power, thou might not but first understand this world and the forces that govern it."

She turned, the hem of her dark dress whispering against the cold stone floor. "Sit, Seiito. There is much thou want to wot, and sooth of this world is far moe intricate than thou realize."

Seiito remained standing, his fists clenched. "Enough riddles! Just tell me what I need to know." His voice was sharp with frustration, though he knew deep down there was no point in rushing her.

"Very well," Irene said with a slight tilt of her head. "Yet be warned—what I am about to say to thee shall change all's. It shall unravel all's thou thought thou knew about this world, the gods, and e'en yourself."

Seiito's chest tightened as he locked eyes with her. There was no escaping it now—the answers he sought were within his reach, but they came at a price.

Irene began to unleash all her knowledge onto Seiito.

Overwhelming him with information.

"W-wait, wait!! It's too much information!" Seiito's voice cracked as the weight of Irene's words sank in. His mind reeled, struggling to piece together the puzzle unfolding before him. His chest tightened, and for a moment, it felt like the walls of the throne room were closing in. He clenched his fists, forcing himself to focus.

He took several deep breaths, each one more desperate than the last. "Are you telling me… the World Towers were made to seal those monsters I fought? Those cursed things?"

Irene nodded gently, her serene expression betraying none of the gravity of her revelation. "That is correct, Seiito. Every abomination thou faced was a product of ancient chaos—a shadow left behind by Malakai."

Seiito staggered back a step, his knees feeling weak. "N-no way…" He ran a hand through his hair, trying to make sense of the storm of thoughts in his mind. The whole time he had fought, bled, and crawled through the tower's levels, he had never imagined his enemies were tied to something so ancient, so monumental. He looked back at Irene, his eyes sharp with suspicion. "How… how do you know all this?"

A mysterious smile graced her pale lips. But then, sorrow washed over her eyes, guilt, even disgust flashed on her beautiful features. "Because," she whispered, "I am Malakai's daughter."

The words hit Seiito like a lightning strike. His body went rigid, every muscle locking up as the revelation crashed over him. Malakai's daughter? His mind whirled at the implications. That meant Irene had lived for centuries—millennia even. This eerie yet graceful woman before him wasn't just old—she was ancient.

"… So you're a really old lady…" Seiito muttered under his breath, disbelief tingling along his spine. He regretted the words the moment they left his lips.

Irene pouts angrily, "Thou shalt not say that!" She composes herself, "Ahem."

Her expression grew more serious. "There is moe thou might not but wot, Seiito. The king of Santizimo, Valorian, is the one whom sent you—and the others—here to the World Tower."

Seiito's eyes narrowed dangerously. "That much I know. It was part of the official expedition," he muttered, though unease twisted in his gut. He knew the King's call to explore the Tower had never sat right with him, but to hear Irene confirm it made his skin crawl.

"No." Irene's voice was soft but carried the weight of something devastating. "Not for thou, child. This wasn't an ordinary expedition."

Seiito stiffened, sensing the shift in her tone. "What do you mean?"

Irene's eyes gleamed with sorrow and pity. "Thou wast sent hither to die."

The room seemed to tilt beneath Seiito's feet. His heart pounded violently in his chest, and his breath grew shallow. "To… die?" he whispered, the words barely leaving his lips.

Irene nodded slowly. "Yes. Thou were not meant to return. Valorian ensured it."

Seiito's mind snapped. His fists clenched until his knuckles turned white, and a low growl rumbled from deep in his throat. "That bastard… He wanted me dead?" His voice dripped with venom, fury boiling in his veins.

Irene's gaze remained steady, her calmness unsettling in the face of his rage. "Not just thou, mine child. Countless others hast been sent hither under the guise of heroism. Hardy men and women, hailed as saviors, masterless to die within these cursed walls."

Seiito's blood ran cold. "Others?" His voice was low, almost a whisper.

"Many," Irene whispered. "They came ere thou. Some were stronger, others kinder. All of 'em received they were chosen for greatness...and every single one met a tragic end. Just as thou were meant to."

Seiito's heart sank. The weight of her words threatened to crush him. He wasn't special. He was just another pawn—another hero sent to perish.

That implied that his classroom wasn't the only ones that were transported into this world...are they all mere pawns?

But unlike the others, he was still alive. And that meant something.

His jaw tightened. "Why tell me this now?" he asked, glaring up at Irene. "What do you gain from this?"

She smiled, but there was sadness in her gaze. "Because thou art still breathing, Seiito. Thou hast done what the others could not. Thou hast survived."

"That's not true... You saved me so many times. The damn miracles..." Seiito's voice wavered as he recalled the countless instances—moments when, just as death's shadow crept close, unseen hands pulled him from its grasp.

Irene's expression remained unmoved, her gaze piercing through his doubts like a blade. "No, child. 'twere not I whom saved thou. Fate had already chosen thou. I merely nudged thou along the path thou were destined to walk. Thou art meant to become a Lord."

Seiito clenched his fists so tightly his nails bit into his palms. "A pawn, you mean," he hissed. "You want me to dance to someone else's tune. I refuse to be controlled—I refuse to be anyone's puppet!"

He felt a storm of emotions brewing within him. Frustration, anger, and defiance tangled together, threatening to consume him whole. All he had ever wanted was freedom—to live on his own terms, not shackled by fate or bound by the schemes of others.

But his curiosity couldn't help but itch, he wanted to know just what exactly a Lord was.

"What does becoming a Lord entail?" Seiito demanded, his voice low, a warning in his tone.

Irene's gaze darkened. "It shall not be a simple path," she warned. "To the realm of humans, thou shalt be declared a blasphemer. They shall fear thou, hate thou. Thou shalt be hunted down, and if captured..." Her voice grew softer, laced with a melancholy that only someone who had suffered that very fate could possess. "Thou shall be sealed, just as I was, 'i a World Tower."

Seiito growled, frustration bubbling to the surface. "Why the hell would I want that?"

Irene's lips curled into a faint, knowing smile. "Because power changes all's. Thou shalt not merely gain strength—thou shalt ascend. As a Lord, thou shalt become moe than mortal, moe than man. Thou shalt transcend perpetual wink itself, becoming something akin to a deity."

Her words hung heavy in the air, each one resonating with dangerous allure.

"And," she continued, her voice as soft as silk, "as a Lord, thou shalt bear the power to create others like thou. Those thou deem worthy can also rise as Lords under thy command. Thou could shape a new orb, seiito—a world where none would aye dare control thou again."

For a moment, the room fell silent, save for the distant hum of ancient magic thrumming in the walls.

Seiito's heart raced. The promise of such immense power gnawed at him, a seductive whisper that tugged at his deepest desires. Freedom, strength, and the power to defy those who dared to stand in his way—it was everything he had ever craved.

And yet... the price was steep. Becoming a Lord meant losing everything—his humanity, his place in the world of men, and possibly even his soul.

"You offer me divinity..." Seiito muttered, his voice laced with bitterness. "But at the cost of everything else."

"Yes," Irene said simply, her eyes gleaming with unyielding certainty. "The choice is thine to make. Power always comes at a price...the question is, are thou willing to pay it?"