The sun had barely risen when the nobles and soldiers left the city of Vellis. Their carriages trundled away, leaving behind shattered auction houses, burned-out mansions, and a silence that felt like a blade against the throat.
Even the so-called hero was with them—his polished armor reflecting the red morning sky. His lips were tight, his brow furrowed, but beside him walked a man cloaked in humble black—a butler, quiet and calm, as if nothing had changed.
But this wasn't any ordinary servant.
He was Obama.
Pig-faced demon. Master of disguise. The whisper behind the throne.
And right now, he was Eren's final card to wrap the city in fear.
As the hero mounted his horse and gazed back at the once-noble city now ruled by monsters, Obama stood beside him with a hand folded neatly over his chest.
"Master," Obama said softly, "this... situation may require reporting to the Royal Court. A Demon King has appeared. Surely, this is no matter to keep hidden."
The hero clenched the reins.
"I know," he muttered. "But if I say that… they'll think I failed. I didn't even fight him. I was... I was helpless."
Obama tilted his head, his voice tender like silk.
"Exactly, my brave Lord. They will say you fled. They will say you knelt before a monster... They will say your sword never left its sheath."
The hero looked away.
"So what do I do?"
Obama's smile was hidden behind a polished voice.
"You stay silent. You rebuild your image. You become stronger. One day, when the time is right... you shall return. A shining beacon of humanity."
The hero nodded slowly, uncertain.
And the trap was sealed.
Obama's face remained calm, but inside, he laughed.
He had taken the brightest hope of the Kingdom and dimmed it into silence. One whisper at a time.
Later, in the City
Smoke no longer rose from rooftops. Screams were gone.
Instead, the gates opened wide—and through them came monsters.
Demons.
Beasts.
Outlaws.
Fanged things from the forest and clawed warriors from the hills.
Among them were Rost, the silent mountain of muscle, and Hagemaru, the demon scholar with the ever-present book in his hand. He muttered arcane thoughts to himself as he walked, uncaring of the stares.
The citizens had fled. The nobles were gone.
And the monsters chose their homes freely.
One tall demon knocked down the door to a jewelry shop and settled in with a smile. A group of bird-like demihumans claimed a bakery and began roasting meat in the ovens.
No resistance.
No rulers.
Only them.
And among the crowds, a little girl ran barefoot on the stone roads, laughing.
"Lora, slow down!" called her mother—free now from chains, her eyes wet with joy. "You'll trip!"
But Lora just spun in a circle, throwing her arms out.
"Mama, we have a home now! A real one! And no one hurts us anymore!"
Her mother smiled. "Yes. Thanks to the Demon King."
Then came the moment.
A hush fell across the city center.
Footsteps echoed. Shadows danced.
And he appeared.
Eren.
The Demon King.
Still wearing a simple black cloak, not a crown. No gold. No armor. Just eyes that burned like coals from another world.
As he stepped forward, every demon, demihuman, and beast dropped to one knee.
"Hail the Demon Lord!"
"All hail!"
"Our king!"
The roars shook the city. Fear and loyalty woven into a single thunderclap.
But Eren simply raised a hand.
"Eat," he said. "Drink. Rest."
"Tomorrow... we burn something new."
And the party began.
Bonfires were lit in the town square. Stolen wine flowed like rivers. Roasted boar spun on open fires. Laughter from monsters and humans alike filled the sky.
In the Heart of the City
Inside the old Governor's mansion—now redraped with demon banners—four figures sat around a long table.
Zenis, the snake-blade commander, his weapons resting beside him.
Rost, who said nothing, merely watching with quiet presence.
Hagemaru, still flipping through his book, lips moving with unread words.
And now, a new face at the table—Jessy, the blood-soaked girl with wild eyes and a bigger appetite for chaos than war itself.
Eren sat at the head.
He didn't eat.
Didn't drink.
Only listened.
"So," Zenis began, "we've taken the city. Fear spreads like oil on fire. What's next?"
"The nobles will regroup," Jessy grinned. "So we cut their roots. Burn their estates, one by one."
"Or," Hagemaru finally spoke, "we unleash knowledge. Plant doubt. Break them not by war... but by ideas."
The firelight glinted off Eren's eyes.
He smiled.
"Why not both?"