Chapter 27 Demon who Calls Itself a Lord

The light faded, revealing the Demon Lord’s castle. It was massive, towering into the storm-heavy sky, spires like claws reaching toward the heavens.

The land around them was lifeless, scorched and twisted. Black trees without leaves stood frozen in time. And yet, despite the ominous surroundings, the castle gates stood open.

Waiting.

A line of demon soldiers stood on either side of the main path, their armor etched with faintly glowing runes, weapons sheathed, eyes forward. They weren’t here to fight.

They were here to witness.

Rein’s hand hovered near the hilt of his blade, instincts whispering danger. But Liora placed a hand lightly on his arm.

“They’re not going to attack. This is a peace meeting. They’ve honored the ceasefire.”

Kael scanned the formation with a soldier’s eye, but he gave a short nod.

 “They’re disciplined. Well-trained. They’re not pretending.”

A lone figure stepped forward from the archway of the gates — a demon attendant in formal robes, face half-hidden by a ceremonial mask.

“Welcome. The Demon Lord awaits you in the throne room. Please follow me. Weapons are allowed by Demon Lord's order but only Hero and the diplomat Liora will be allowed to enter the throne room.”

The group moved in silence, footsteps echoing as they walked the long stone corridor into the heart of the castle. Rein glanced at the walls — murals depicted battles, not of conquest, but of defense. The art was strangely human, emotive, filled with pain and pride. 

At the end of the corridor, towering doors carved from black crystal slowly opened.

Rein stormed into the throne room, jaw clenched, eyes burning with mana like hot coals. His heart thundered with one single thought: the monster sitting on that throne had killed Aura—his mentor, his idol, the only light in his life. And now, they dared to come here pretending to seek peace?

"Peace?" He scoffed silently. 

"There is no peace for monsters."

Beside him, Liora’s hand settled lightly on his shoulder. 

“Rein,” she whispered, voice cool and calm, “hold your temper. The King wants this to end without unnecessary bloodshed. If the talks fail, your chance will come.”

Rein barely heard her. His focus was absolute. Revenge. Nothing else mattered.

They reached the throne. The Demon Lord’s armor gleamed black like spilled ink, unmoving, silent. No human face beneath the helm, only an overwhelming presence.

Liora bowed slightly and stepped forward. 

“Greetings, Demon Lord."

"Hello, Liora. It was a while since we last met. I hope you had a good talk with Arthur."

"Yes, we had a discussion, and I come with the King’s terms as agreed. His demands are: Your forces must surrender unconditionally. The Demon Lands will be opened to human supervision. All able-bodied demon kind will be conscripted to work the magi stone mines. In return, the King offers... sustenance and protection for your people. Refuse, and the war will continue until your destruction. It is the price King ask for ending this war.”

The Demon Lord rose from the throne in a slow, graceful motion, the soft scrape of his armor echoing through the vast chamber. His voice came with surprising warmth—smooth, calm, almost kind—but threaded beneath that tone was something deeper, darker. 

“Mine our lands, the very soil poisoned by your greed, so your kingdom can shine a little brighter while ours crumble into ash? Enslave the people you once cast out, left to rot in the wastelands you created, and now return only to demand their loyalty in chains? This is what you call peace? I wonder if Arthur even knows the meaning of the word. Or if he’s simply rewritten it to fit his comfort—to fit his version of justice, where only the noble are human and the rest of us, discarded, are expected to kneel and be grateful.”

There was a pause—long enough to feel heavy.

“I remember what it meant to believe in peace. To fight for it. I remember being told the war would end with one death. That if I just struck down the enemy, everything would be alright. But the truth was never that simple. And Arthur...your King never wanted peace.”

His tone, though still soft, grew colder—like winter wind slipping beneath warm skin.

“I will not kneel for a crown that feeds on lies. And I will not let those I protect be dragged back into the chains they broke free from.”

“I see,” Liora said gently, almost regretfully, “So, despite the King’s generous offer," these words nearly choked her, but she forced it anyway, "you choose pride over peace. The lands you claim as yours exist only by the mercy of the human kingdom. The resources you mine, the air you breathe—it has all survived because the King, in his wisdom, has allowed it to. And yet, here you stand, cloaked in defiance, speaking of chains as though your people were anything but the remnants of a failed rebellion.”

She stepped forward just a little, still within diplomatic distance.

“Your words, Demon Lord, are beautiful. But the world is not shaped by words. It is shaped by power. And you stand on the edge of losing yours. This is your last chance. A final offer of peace before the fire returns. Comply, and your people live. Resist, and... well.”

Demon Lord tilted his head slightly, as if regarding the diplomat not with anger, but pity.

“There is nothing fair in what you offer, Liora."

"These are not my words, but the King's. This is the price he is asking for mercy."

"You speak of mercy while dangling chains. You dress enslavement in the robes of peace and expect us to thank you—”

“Enough!”

Rein’s voice thundered through the room. His eyes were wide, wild, voice trembling not with fear—but with barely contained rage.

“There is no peace for monsters!”

In a blur of motion, faster than anyone expected, he stepped forward, drawing his blade in a lightning-fast smooth motion. Magic surged along the steel as he swung it in a wide, arcing slash.

"Lightning Flash!"

A bolt of searing energy burst forth from the blade—crackling white-blue light that split the air with a deafening shriek. It struck Demon Lord dead-on before he could finish speaking.

KAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-BOOOOOOOOOOOM!

The explosion ripped through the throne room like atomic bomb. Stone shattered. Wind roared. Dust and smoke burst outward, clouding everything in blinding smoke.

Liora stumbled back, coughing, shielding her face. The guards drew weapons. 

Rein stood firm, his blade crackling with residual energy, eyes locked on the swirling smoke where the Demon Lord had stood.

His heart pounded, but not with triumph. Not yet.

He waited to see if the monster had fallen.

The throne room rang with chaos—shouts, clashing steel, the echo of magic still ringing in the walls. Several demon guards surged forward, weapons drawn, eyes burning with fury. Liora flinched as two of them rushed at them, ready to strike down the attackers.

But then—

A sharp gust of wind blasted outward from the center of the room. It swept through the smoke like a sweeping hand across a dusty mirror. The dust and haze cleared in an instant, and there he stood. The Demon Lord.

His black armor was cracked across the chest plate, his helmet took a bit more damage, faint steam rising from the point of impact, but otherwise he stood tall and unmoved, his long dark cape fluttering behind him like wings torn from a storm.

His voice rang out, calm but absolute.

“Stand down.”

The guards froze mid-step.

“I said stand down.” He didn’t shout the second time. He didn’t need to.

Every demon in the room obeyed, lowering their weapons with clear reluctance. But none dared defy him.

His hand dropped from where he had swung it to clear the dust, his armored fingers flexing briefly—testing for pain.

His gaze, still hidden behind his helmet, settled on Rein.

“I see. So, this is the peace you bring. If that's the case, then our talk is over.”

Rein’s gaze snapped to the Demon Lord, “You killed Aura, you bastard! My parents died because of you! You took everything from me. There is no negotiation. There will be only justice.”

The Demon Lord’s helm tilted just slightly, as if acknowledging the words.

Liora stepped between them, voice steady but urgent.

 “Rein, remember your duty. The King trusts in your strength to end this war—but it's not the time to strike her down. We can still talk—”

Rein’s breath came fast. His heart screamed that vengeance was justice.

“All I want,” he shouted, voice low and deadly, “is to see her name avenged! To see the Demon who calls itself a Lord fall by my hand!”