The night was quiet in the Demon King's castle.
Torches lined the walls like watchful eyes, their crimson flames dancing in the stillness, casting shadows that stretched and twisted across the endless corridors. The obsidian stone walls seemed to drink in the light, leaving the halls half-submerged in darkness. Somewhere in the distance, the sound of armored boots echoed faintly—patrols marching their eternal routes.
The outer gates were well-guarded, the battlements bristling with soldiers. But the inner halls, buried so deep within the fortress, were left to silence. After all, who would dare sneak into the heart of the Demon King's domain?
Who indeed.
A small shadow slipped into the corridor. Barefoot. Silver-haired. Eyes shining with mischief.
Asura's grin stretched across his face as he tiptoed past his chamber door. Keith Von Talon, his loyal knight, sat slumped in the chair outside, armor gleaming dully in the torchlight. His sword rested against the wall, one hand still loosely gripping the hilt even in sleep.
The boy's heart hammered. He crouched low, his little feet padding silently across the carpet. His grandfather's most trusted knight—defeated not by battle, but by boredom and drowsiness.
This is it… my first real stealth mission.
He paused dramatically, raising one hand to his lips to stifle a laugh. "Operation: Sneak Out," he whispered, as if declaring the start of a grand anime arc.
Step by step, he slid past Keith's chair. Every creak of the armor, every soft exhale from the knight felt like a trigger waiting to snap. He moved so slowly he could feel the seconds stretch, his tiny muscles trembling from the effort of holding his breath.
Finally—he was past.
A grin of triumph tugged at his lips. He had cleared the first boss.
The hallway yawned before him, vast and empty, lit only by the guttering torches. He darted forward, bare feet slapping softly against the cold marble. The freedom of movement made him want to laugh out loud, but he bit his tongue.
The castle was enormous, a labyrinth of twisting halls, grand staircases, and rooms decorated with relics from centuries of conquest. Enchanted wards glowed faintly along the walls—traps meant to detect intruders. But to Asura's surprise, they didn't react to him. He tilted his head, golden eyes narrowing.
"…Guess they don't trigger on family."
That realization made his grin widen. His grandfather trusted him enough not to ward his path. Or maybe the system itself was hiding his presence. Either way, it worked in his favor.
He weaved through the corridors, ducking under arches, pausing whenever the faint echo of patrols drew near. Twice, he had to duck behind a statue of some ancient demon general, holding his breath as armored guards marched past, their boots clanking in perfect rhythm.
Each time, his heart pounded harder.
Not with fear.
With excitement.
This is it. This is what I always wanted back in my old life. Not school, not work, not the same boring routine. This—this thrill, this danger—that's living.
He clenched his small fists, the grin refusing to leave his face.
Of course, the real reason for sneaking out wasn't just adventure. It was secrecy.
He had no intention of telling his grandfather about the system. Not yet. Not until he understood it better. If the Demon King found out…
Images flashed in his mind. Endless training. Harsh experiments. An announcement to the realm that the heir had been chosen, his every step chained to expectation and duty. His life mapped out before he could even choose.
No. This is mine.
The thought burned in his chest like fire. This system, this power—it belongs to me. Until I know what it really means, it stays secret.
And besides—
He chuckled softly, silver hair bouncing as he crept along the last corridor toward the outer balcony.
"What kind of isekai protagonist doesn't sneak out for their first adventure?"
Finally, he pushed open the heavy doors leading to one of the outer balconies. The hinges groaned softly, the night air rushing in to greet him.
Asura stepped outside, the wind cool against his skin, his silver hair whipping lightly around his horns.
The Demon Realm stretched before him. Black mountains clawed at the blood-red sky, rivers of glowing magma cut through the land like veins, and far below, the faint lights of demon cities flickered like embers in the dark.
For the first time since his rebirth, Asura stood at the edge of the world he had dreamed of—a world that was no longer fantasy, but his reality.
His golden eyes gleamed.
"…Time to see what I can really do."
✦ The Escape
The Demon King's castle gates were not made for children to slip through.
They were massive constructions of black iron, forged in fire hotter than dragon breath and carved with snarling visages of ancient demons. The bars themselves were thicker than Asura's entire body, each one humming faintly with embedded runes that glowed red like veins of molten lava. A constant shimmer of energy flickered across the surface of the gate, like a storm of chained lightning—an enchantment woven to burn intruders into ash before they even touched the threshold.
And standing sentinel before it, as immovable as the mountains themselves, were two of the King's personal guards.
They were giants, towering nearly twice the height of men, their bodies wrapped in layers of steel so black it seemed to devour the torchlight. Each gripped a halberd taller than Asura's entire bed, the wicked blades catching glimmers of crimson flame. Their faces were hidden behind horned helmets, but their eyes—bright, unblinking crimson—pierced the shadows, ever watchful.
Any sane creature would have turned back. Even a demon noble would think twice about passing those gates without permission.
But Asura wasn't sane. He was four years old.
And he had a system.
He crouched behind a pillar just inside the hall, his small hands pressed against the cold stone. His golden eyes peeked around the edge, catching the guards' rigid silhouettes. His chest thudded with a mix of nerves and giddy anticipation.
Alright… this is it. The final boss of my stealth mission.
He ducked back, muttering under his breath like an anime character psyching himself up.
"Okay, stealth build, stealth build… if this were a game, I'd sneak in shadows, use some kind of cloak, right? But… I don't have a stealth skill."
He glanced at his glowing menu again—nothing even close. No [Stealth], no [Shadow Step], not even [Crouch Effectiveness Up].
He paused. Then smirked.
"…But anime logic says… if you don't have the right skill, you make one up. Or just cheat."
Rising to his full (tiny) height, Asura clenched his fists, whispering the word with the kind of exaggerated drama only a child who watched way too many shonen anime could muster.
"Teleportation."
The world twisted.
A sharp pop cracked through the air as reality folded. The torches blurred, the pillars stretched like shadows at sunset, and his stomach flipped upside down. For one terrifying instant, he was weightless, suspended between nothing and nowhere—like the world hadn't decided where to put him.
Then—snap!
He blinked. The air was cold, the wind sharper here. The torches were behind him. The gate loomed just a step away.
And the two guards—still statues of steel and muscle—remained in front of the gate.
Which meant…
Asura turned, golden eyes wide.
He was outside.
Behind them.
The bridge stretched before him, a spine of black stone arcing out over the abyss, leading into the jagged wilds of the Demon Realm. His bare feet pressed against the rough stone, the night air rushing around him, carrying the distant howls of monsters from the canyons below.
For a moment, he didn't move. He just stared at his tiny hands, then at the guards, then back again.
"…No way."
The guards remained motionless, their glowing eyes fixed forward, utterly oblivious. Their halberds hadn't twitched. Their armor hadn't shifted. They hadn't felt a thing.
Asura's mouth split into a grin so wide it nearly hurt. A laugh burst out of him, sharp and uncontrollable, echoing across the empty bridge.
"Yesss!" He clenched both fists, pumping one into the air. "First try!"
He spun in a little circle, arms spread wide like a champion standing atop a victory podium. His silver hair whipped in the night wind, his horns gleaming faintly in the moonlight.
I did it. I actually did it.
He was outside. Free.
The thought sent a thrill rushing through his chest, almost too big for his small body to contain. He could feel it in his bones, in the way the wind kissed his skin, in the way the stars burned brighter beyond the blood-red sky.
The Demon Realm stretched before him. Black mountains clawed at the heavens, rivers of magma glowed faintly in the valleys below, and far on the horizon, the faint sparks of demon cities flickered like scattered embers.
And here he was—a four-year-old child, standing on the bridge of the Demon King's fortress, laughing like he had just beaten the world's hardest boss.
"…This system really is busted," he whispered to himself, still grinning.
The guards remained statues. The wards continued to hum.
Only Asura knew what had just happened.
✦ The Demon Realm Wilderness
The Demon Realm stretched endlessly before him, vast and alien, beautiful and terrifying all at once.
Forests of black trees swayed in the night, their twisted branches writhing toward the crimson sky. Each trunk glowed faintly with veins of mana, pulsing red like blood through a beating heart. The land itself shimmered, fractured by glowing streams of energy that wound between rocks and roots, rivers of liquid light that illuminated the ground with an eerie, otherworldly glow.
Farther away, mountains rose jagged and cruel, like the teeth of some ancient beast that had long ago devoured the horizon. Their peaks were cloaked in violet mist, lightning flashing within as though storms raged inside the very stone. And from those hidden valleys came the cries—long, guttural howls that shook the air.
Not wolf. Not dragon. Not anything he'd known in his old world. Something worse. Something real.
The sound should have made him shiver. But instead, his golden eyes widened with wonder.
"…This is way cooler than my backyard in the human world," he whispered, unable to stop the grin spreading across his face.
A laugh burst from his chest, giddy and sharp. His heart hammered, his fingers curled into tiny fists. For the first time, he wasn't peeking from behind walls or sneaking through corridors. He wasn't trapped beneath his grandfather's watchful gaze.
This world—the true Demon Realm—was his to explore.
He spread his arms wide, tilting his head back toward the blood-red sky.
"Flight!"
Mana rushed through his veins like fire. His horns tingled, glowing faintly as invisible power surged outward. His feet left the ground.
Slowly at first—uncertain, trembling—but then steadier, stronger. Inch by inch, the bridge fell away beneath him. The castle gates shrank, the stone pillars receding until he hovered in the open air, the night wind tugging at his hair and robe.
For a heartbeat, he wobbled, arms flailing. Memories of the chandelier crash flashed through his mind.
Not this time. Not again.
He forced himself still, heart thudding, and the wobbling ceased. He floated steady.
Then, with a small push of will, he rose higher.
The wind rushed past his face, cool and sharp, carrying the scent of ozone and ash. His silver hair whipped wildly, his horns humming with the pressure of mana. His body tilted forward, and suddenly—he was moving.
He glided.
The black forest opened beneath him like a sea of shadows threaded with glowing veins. Rivers of crimson mana glowed faintly between the roots, casting a surreal light across the canopy. The sound of strange creatures carried up from below, cries of things lurking in the shadows.
And Asura soared above it all.
"Yes!" he shouted, his voice lost to the wind.
His chest swelled with exhilaration. He banked clumsily to the left, then right, the world below smearing into streaks of red and black. His small arms spread wide, his laughter echoing into the night.
This wasn't falling. This wasn't floating. This was flying.
"This… this is freedom!"
He tilted upward, climbing higher, the cold wind burning against his cheeks. Then downward, diving toward the treetops before pulling up sharply, his stomach lurching with the thrill. The world became his playground, the air his stage.
Every twist, every turn, every rush of wind screamed the same truth into his soul:
He wasn't a child trapped in expectations anymore.
He wasn't a boy doomed to live a quiet, ordinary life.
He was Asura Satomi, True Demon Lord, heir to the Demon King—and he could fly.
For a moment, he let go of everything else. The system. The secret. Even the weight of what his powers might mean.
All that mattered was the night sky. The freedom in his chest. The world spread out before him, vast and waiting.
✦ The First Encounter
The wilderness seemed to breathe around him, alive with sounds he had never known. The whisper of black leaves shifting in a crimson breeze. The distant crack of stone splitting where magma flowed just beneath the surface. And then—something heavier. The scrape of claws on soil. The guttural rumble of a predator's chest.
Asura slowed, his golden eyes narrowing as he hovered above the treetops. A flicker of movement below caught his attention—a shape gliding between shadows, too deliberate to be the wind.
Curiosity won.
He dipped lower, wings of mana steadying his small frame, until the canopy opened beneath him and revealed a clearing bathed in faint red glow.
There, a beast prowled.
It was larger than any wolf he had seen in his past life, its back easily reaching his chest in height. Its body was lean and powerful, muscle sliding beneath black scales that shimmered faintly like tempered obsidian. Each movement radiated lethal precision. Its claws carved grooves into the earth as it stalked, and every step was accompanied by a faint hiss, as if its body bled heat into the air.
Its muzzle twisted into a snarl, lips curling back to reveal jagged fangs glowing faintly with fire. A furnace-like heat radiated from its breath, embers dancing in the night air. And then there were its eyes—twin flames of sickly green, burning from within the sockets, as though the beast was possessed by fire itself.
Asura's chest tightened—not with fear, but exhilaration.
"…A Lesser Hellhound."
He had heard the stories. Demonic hounds that roamed the wild places of the realm, their bodies armored in scales, their flames capable of scorching lesser demons to ash. To most, they were nightmares to avoid. Even trained warriors approached with caution, their rank often listed as C—sometimes B for the older, stronger ones.
And here he was, standing barefoot in the clearing before one.
His lips curled into a grin. "Perfect test subject."
He lowered himself, landing softly, the glowing soil warm beneath his feet. Slowly, almost lazily, he raised one hand toward the beast.
"Appraisal."
The world shimmered. The beast's image froze, layered with glowing text that scrolled neatly before his vision.
Name: Lesser Hellhound
Level: 57
HP: 32000
MP: 8000
STR: 19000
VIT: 12000
AGI: 15000
INT: 300
LUK: 1
Element: Fire
Asura tilted his head, silver hair catching the glow. "Level fifty-seven, huh? Stronger than Keith in some stats… but still nothing compared to me."
The numbers told the story clearly. Against another knight, this beast would be a serious threat. Against him? His stats dwarfed it across the board.
But the Hellhound didn't care about numbers.
It growled, lowering its massive body. The green fire in its eyes burned brighter, reflecting off Asura's golden gaze. Its claws dug trenches into the ground, back legs tensing like drawn bowstrings. The embers spilling from its maw grew hotter, the sulfuric stench curling into the clearing.
The air thickened.
Asura blinked. "…Wait. Is it—"
The beast moved.
The ground shattered beneath its claws as it lunged, its body a blur of black scales and fire. The clearing exploded with motion, dirt and sparks flying as its form streaked toward him. Its jaws opened wide, fangs glowing like molten iron, ready to tear him apart.
"…Oh crap," Asura muttered, his grin widening despite himself. "It's hostile."
The boy's pulse raced—not with fear, but with the intoxicating thrill of a first battle.
The Lesser Hellhound soared toward him, green fire in its eyes, and Asura's golden gaze burned just as bright.
His first real fight in this world had begun.
✦ The Mistake
The Hellhound soared toward him, a streak of black scales and green fire. Its claws gleamed like razors, its furnace jaws wide open, embers scattering from its maw. The ground quaked with the force of its lunge.
Asura's grin faltered. His golden eyes widened.
Wait. Wait, wait, wait—!
His mind raced. I don't have combat skills yet! No fireball, no sword technique, no flashy anime finisher—
The beast's breath scorched the air, the heat prickling against his skin. Its fangs loomed closer.
"Uh—Aura!"
The word ripped out of him before he even thought.
And then the world shattered.
A crushing wave of pressure burst from his small body, exploding outward in every direction. The air thickened into molten lead, space itself groaning under the force of his presence. The glowing soil cracked, spiderweb fractures tearing through the clearing. The black trees bent as though bowing before him, their crimson veins flickering like dying hearts.
The Hellhound froze mid-leap.
Its green flames sputtered, flickering violently before winking out completely. The beast's eyes went wide with panic as its body slammed to the ground. Its claws dug uselessly into the earth, legs trembling, muscles straining—but nothing moved.
The pressure pinned it flat.
Whimpers tore from its throat, guttural and broken, as though begging for mercy.
Asura stood in the center of the storm, his silver hair whipping around his face, his horns glowing faintly with power. His small chest rose and fell rapidly, his golden eyes wide at the devastation he'd caused.
"…Oops."
He scratched his cheek nervously, his voice flat, almost sheepish. "Didn't mean to nearly kill it."
The Hellhound whimpered again, ears pressed flat against its skull. Its tail curled tight between its legs, its entire body shaking. Slowly, it clawed backward, dragging itself away from him, its green eyes wide with primal terror.
Asura sighed, shoulders slumping. "Guess I'm… kind of terrifying."
He dismissed the Aura with a thought. Instantly, the weight vanished. The air lightened, the soil stopped groaning.
The Hellhound didn't hesitate. With a broken yelp, it spun on its heels and bolted into the forest, vanishing into the shadows without once looking back.
Silence reclaimed the clearing.
Asura stared after it for a long moment, then let out a long breath and flopped onto his back in the glowing grass.
"Yeah," he muttered to the night sky, his voice caught between pride and exasperation. "Note to self: maybe don't use Aura as a panic button."
✦ The Return
The flight back to the Demon King's castle felt almost unreal.
Asura's small body cut through the crimson night air, the world rushing past him in a blur of glowing forests and black stone valleys. The thrill of the encounter still burned hot in his veins—his heart pounded, his fingers trembled, and his golden eyes gleamed with an afterglow of battle. He had faced a monster. A real monster. And in the heat of panic, his power had answered for him.
The memory replayed in his mind: the Hellhound's eyes burning like sickly emerald fire, its body frozen mid-lunge, pinned by the sheer weight of his Aura. The way the earth cracked around him, the way the beast whimpered like a frightened pup before bolting into the shadows.
He shivered—not with fear, but with the strange cocktail of exhilaration and unease.
"I didn't even mean to…" he muttered to himself as the wind tugged at his hair. "One slip, and I almost flattened it completely. I wasn't even serious."
His grin tugged at the corners of his lips again, sheepish and sharp all at once.
"…Guess I really am terrifying."
The castle loomed ahead, its towers jagged silhouettes against the burning red horizon. It was a fortress designed to crush invaders' hopes—walls carved from obsidian so thick they reflected torchlight like black mirrors, battlements crawling with watchful demons, and wards pulsing faintly in the air like a heartbeat of red lightning.
But to Asura, it was just another obstacle.
He dipped lower, skimming the edge of the battlements. Soldiers in dark armor paced above, their halberds gleaming as their eyes scanned the wilderness. None of them looked up. He slipped beneath their gaze, a silver shadow against the dark sky, until he spotted it: an open balcony, its crimson curtains fluttering in the night breeze.
"Perfect," he whispered, swooping silently toward it.
He glided through, landing with a soft tap on the marble floor. Mana flickered around him as Flight dissolved, leaving him standing barefoot and flushed with adrenaline. The air inside was cool and quiet, filled with the faint scent of incense.
Not a soul stirred.
He crept down the hall toward his chambers, the silence broken only by the faint crackle of the torches. His heart pounded faster the closer he got—though not from fear of discovery. Rather, from the giddy realization that he had pulled it off. His first secret adventure. His first taste of freedom.
Finally, he reached the door.
Keith Von Talon still sat slumped in the chair outside, the picture of stoic vigilance—if not for the soft, rhythmic snores rumbling beneath his helmet. His sword remained propped against the wall, one gauntleted hand loosely draped over the hilt as though pretending to stand guard even in sleep.
Asura pressed both hands against his mouth to muffle his laugh.
"You'd never believe it, Keith," he whispered, slipping inside his room. "Your little lord just fought a Hellhound while you were… napping."
He flopped onto his bed, sinking into the silken sheets, the canopy looming above him like a stage curtain closing on the night's performance. His grin stretched wide as he hugged a pillow against his chest, golden eyes staring up at the ceiling.
"…System or not," he said softly, "I'm OP."
But the grin faltered for a moment. His mind wandered back to the Hellhound's whimpers, the sheer devastation that one burst of Aura had caused, the cracks in the earth and the way the beast had bolted in terror.
"If Grandfather finds out…" he muttered, frowning faintly. "He'll lock me in here. I'll never see the outside again."
Silence filled the chamber. The thought should have been sobering. But then, as if on cue, his lips curved upward once more.
"…Which means," he whispered, eyes glinting with mischief, "I'll just have to get sneakier."
The weight of the night pressed in gently, his body sinking deeper into the bed. His golden eyes slowly fluttered shut, his grin still lingering even as sleep claimed him.
And so, the boy drifted into dreams—not of restraint or caution, but of skies to soar, monsters to fight, and the endless adventures waiting just beyond the castle's walls.