The citadel had grown quiet again.
The chaos of the battle had faded, leaving only the still hum of mana that refused to rest.
Inside the royal chambers, the soft glow of crimson moonlight spilled across the room, painting Asura in streaks of silver and red. He lay in bed beneath layers of white silk sheets, staring at the carved ceiling, expression flat.
He wasn't injured. Not really.
His Demonic Regeneration had leveled up mid-battle, repairing his body faster than healers could even react. Within hours, his wounds were gone — not even a scar remained.
But the Demon King's command had been absolute:
"He stays in bed until I say otherwise. If he moves, chain him to the bed."
So here he was — an overpowered demon prince, healed, restless, and grounded by royal decree.
Selene sat at his bedside, still bandaged from her own injuries. Her violet eyes shimmered under the dim light, calm but observant.
"Asura," she said quietly. "When you awakened… do you remember what happened?"
He blinked, turning his head toward her. "What do you mean?"
She leaned forward, her tone softer but edged with worry. "Your body changed. Your horns grew. Your aura became… something else. It didn't feel demonic anymore — it felt divine. Even your eyes—" she hesitated, "—they weren't yours for a moment."
Asura frowned slightly. He searched his memory, but all he found were fragments — blinding light, the sound of Selene screaming, something tearing inside him, and a single overwhelming instinct: protect her.
"…I just remember being angry," he admitted quietly. "I didn't think. I just… didn't want to lose you."
Selene's expression softened. "And in saving me, you nearly erased the entire forest."
He looked away. "...It worked."
She sighed — long and tired, but warm. "You are your grandfather's blood, that much is certain."
Before he could answer, a faint chime echoed in the air.
A familiar sound.
Asura froze. His heart skipped once.
He knew that sound.
He blinked, focusing, and a translucent blue window materialized before him — faint glyphs hovering in the air, glowing with soft mana light.
Selene didn't notice, too busy tidying the medicine table.
Asura exhaled, eyes narrowing slightly as the words came into focus.
[ STATUS WINDOW ]
Name: Asura Satomi
Age: 8
Race: True Demon Lord
Level: 346
HP: 260,000
MP: 230,000
STR: 227,400
VIT: 269,000
AGI: 243,000
INT: 230,000
LUK: 99,999 (MAX)
[ TITLES ADDED ]
True Demon Lord (Awakened)
• Mana Incarnate
• Child of Chaos
• Sovereign of the Infernal Veil
• Awakened One (100 %)
• [???] The Demon Who Transcended Fate (Locked)
[ SKILLS ]
Swordsmanship (Lv. 143)
Conqueror's Will (Lv. 9)
Armament Willforce (Lv. 7)
Martial Demon Arts (Lv. 10)
Shadow Rift Step (Lv. 13)
Crimson Flash Barrage (Lv. 17)
Void Breaker Slash (Lv. 21)
Sovereign's Dominion (Lv. 5)
Demonic Regeneration (Lv. 13)
Akaris (Divine Skill)
Omniscient Thought Process
Reminiscence Codex
Precognition
Appraisal
Unlimited Storage
Infinite Growth Potential
Elemental Affinity
Teleportation
Aura
Flight
Heavenly Arc
Spirit Bolt
Solar Flare Cannon
Fireball
Fire Art: Giant Fireball Technique (Unique)
Final Heaven – Tempest Wrath (Rank: EX)
Akaris (Divine Skill)
A lost divine art once wielded by gods. Grants the user authority to erase matter, mana, and spirit within a chosen domain. The purest form of Destroyer Magic. Mastery unknown. Caution: Uncontrolled use may fracture the user's essence.
Asura's golden eyes widened slightly.
"...Akaris," he whispered under his breath.
The description felt heavy — but familiar.
And then it hit him. His eyes lit up.
Akaris. Destroyer Magic.
It was the same power from that anime in his old world — the god's erasure technique. He'd actually used it.
He couldn't help it — a grin tugged at his lips. The kind of grin that didn't belong on a being who could erase existence, but on a kid who'd just gotten the rarest loot drop in history.
"No way. I actually got it…"
He scrolled further, looking at his stat spread — the absurd numbers, the rank-ups, the impossible titles. Each line pulsed like a heartbeat.
It was all real.
"Man…" he muttered, suppressing a laugh. "If I wasn't me, I'd be terrified of me."
The system flickered once more.
[Skill Recognition Complete: Akaris (Destroyer Magic) — Divine Authority Confirmed.]
He barely contained a squeak of excitement.
"...Oh this is so cool," he whispered, grinning like an idiot.
Selene's voice broke through his quiet celebration.
"Asura."
He nearly jumped, closing the window with a blink. "Y-yeah?"
She gave him a suspicious look. "You're smiling. That's never good."
"I'm just… happy you're okay," he said quickly.
Her stern expression softened into a small smile. "Good. Then keep it that way. The Demon King will come soon. Try not to give him a reason to add another week to your confinement."
She stood, brushing her dress smooth before leaving the room. The door clicked softly behind her.
Asura exhaled, staring at the empty air where the system window had been.
He smiled faintly, whispering,
"Guess I really am the protagonist after all."
A faint new line appeared in the void where the screen had been.
[Divine Synchronization: 0.1%]
He frowned. "...What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
The text shimmered — then vanished.
Silence filled the room once again, broken only by the hum of mana through the citadel walls.
Asura leaned back, staring at the ceiling with a tired grin.
"Grandpa's gonna kill me if I use that again."
A pause. Then a lazy chuckle.
"Totally worth it."
✦ The Terms of Freedom
Three days.
That was how long it took for Asura to wear the Demon King down.
Three days of pleading.
Three days of lectures about "responsibility," "recovery," and "not leveling the continent again."
Three days of Selene trying (and failing) to hide her amusement whenever his latest argument ended in a glare from the royal throne.
On the fourth morning, the answer finally changed.
"Asura Satomi," the Demon King said, voice level but final, "you may leave your chambers."
Asura blinked, stunned for all of two seconds before grinning. "Seriously?"
"Within limits," his grandfather continued dryly. "You will remain within the inner citadel—no farther than the fifth ring. You may walk the gardens, the training yard, and the Grand Library. That is all."
Asura groaned. "That's… what, two percent of the Demon Realm?"
"Three," Selene corrected, trying not to smile.
The Demon King ignored them both, his crimson eyes calm and unreadable. "You will obey the tether's boundary. Cross it, and you will return here instantly. Try it twice, and I will make the spell permanent."
Asura slumped, defeated but grateful. "Fine. I'll take it."
The Demon King gave a slow nod, turning toward the door. "Then start by learning. You know too little of the world."
The doors closed behind him, leaving Asura and Selene alone in the quiet.
Asura exhaled. "Guess that's eighty-five percent freedom."
Selene chuckled softly. "That's generous."
✦ The Grand Library of Zerathos
The Grand Library wasn't what Asura expected.
He'd imagined something dusty and ancient—more tomb than library—but the structure was alive.
Pillars of black glass coiled into the ceiling like obsidian roots, and rivers of glowing script flowed through the air, carrying runes from one shelf to another.
It wasn't a library. It was a breathing archive.
A pale-skinned librarian, eyes like ink pools, greeted him with a respectful bow.
"Prince Asura," she said. "You seek knowledge."
"Something like that," he said, stepping past the threshold.
Selene followed, silent as a shadow.
He drifted toward the nearest shelf, fingers brushing the spines. Every book hummed faintly—alive with stored mana. Most were written in languages he didn't recognize.
"Any of these about the Human Realm?" he asked.
The librarian tilted her head. "Few. Our records of the Human Realm are… dated. Much has changed since the treaty."
"The treaty?" he echoed.
"The peace signed a thousand years ago," Selene supplied quietly. "When the Holy Kingdom and the Demon Realm agreed to end the Divine War."
"Right," Asura muttered. "Guess history class wasn't an option back home."
The librarian handed him three books:
The Radiant Empire, The Holy Seven, and On the Blinding Faiths of Humanity.
Each was older than the Demon King's throne itself.
✦ The Reading
The books were… outdated.
Maps still listed extinct cities. The Holy Kingdom was described as "benevolent," which Asura found hilarious.
Every passage painted humans as "chosen," demons as "corrupted," and mana itself as a divine gift stolen from the heavens.
He flipped a page.
The High Pontifex Emperor governs by divine right, advised by the Holy Council. His seven chosen knights, the Holy Seven, wield relics that amplify their power tenfold. They serve as humanity's sword and shield, heroes of faith and judgment.
He grimaced. "Holy propaganda."
Selene smiled faintly. "You expected otherwise?"
"Guess not." He turned the page again. "Still, the Seven sound powerful."
"They are," she said. "Each relic carries the power of a god's blessing. Only the Emperor may choose who wields them."
"So that's the Human Realm's top dogs," Asura mused. "Holy Kingdom, Pontifex Emperor, and his shiny relic knights."
Selene's eyes softened. "And the humans still worship the gods who abandoned them."
"Yeah," he muttered. "Figures."
He closed the book, leaning back in his chair. "All right. Lesson learned—humans love authority, relics, and big swords."
"Insightful," Selene said dryly.
He grinned. "I'm learning."
✦ The Academy Encounter
The Grand Library of Zerathos was quieter than usual that afternoon — the kind of silence that hummed, alive with the faint whisper of mana drifting between its shelves. Rows of floating lanterns swayed gently in the high air, casting pools of red and gold light across the aisles.
Asura wandered past a tower of scrolls, hands clasped behind his head, pretending to read the spines as he muttered under his breath.
"Holy Kingdom this, Valoria that... seriously, is there a single book here that isn't obsessed with humans?"
He turned the corner — and nearly walked straight into a group of older students.
There were five of them — demon teens, probably around fourteen or fifteen, dressed in tailored academy uniforms embroidered with silver crests. A faint insignia shimmered on their collars: Obsidian Fang Academy.
They looked up from their table as one.
The girl at the center — gray horns curving backward, eyes sharp and slate-colored — arched a brow.
"Hey. You're not a student here, are you?"
Asura blinked. "I'm… visiting."
"Visiting?" another boy said, smirking. His horns were shorter, his hair a jagged black that matched the ink stains on his gloves. "Nobody just visits the Grand Library's restricted wing."
Asura shrugged innocently. "Well, I'm nobody then."
That got a few snickers. The gray-horned girl wasn't amused. She stood, closing the tome in front of her with a soft thud.
"Be careful where you wander, kid. Some of these books aren't meant for curious hands."
"Good thing I'm not using my hands," he said lightly, stuffing them into his pockets.
Her frown deepened. "Cute. What are you actually looking for?"
He met her gaze without hesitation. "Forbidden knowledge."
That silenced the table.
The boy with the black horns leaned forward, whispering, "You shouldn't even say that in here."
"Why not?" Asura asked, tilting his head.
The gray-horned girl crossed her arms. "Because only Magi or higher-ranking nobles are allowed to handle that kind of material. It's dangerous — and illegal for a reason."
Asura's curiosity lit instantly. "Magi?" he repeated. "What's that?"
One of the students — a tall, red-skinned boy with silver eyes — gave him a disbelieving look. "You don't know what a Magi is? What cave did you crawl out of?"
Asura smiled faintly. "One with bad lighting and worse teachers."
A few of the others chuckled despite themselves. The girl rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of intrigue in her voice now. "Magi are masters of mana and the soul — those who've transcended normal magic. They shape mana like clay and bend the world's laws to their will. Every kingdom respects them."
"Transcended magic?" Asura echoed softly, golden eyes narrowing with interest. "So... like the difference between reading a spell and rewriting it."
The red-skinned boy blinked. "Exactly. How'd you—"
"Just a guess." Asura's grin widened. "Sounds like fun."
"Fun?" the girl repeated, incredulous. "That level of mastery can kill you if you don't have control. Even our professors warn us not to study that path too early."
"So you're saying," Asura said slowly, "that the only way to learn something truly powerful is to not learn it?"
The group exchanged uneasy looks.
"Kid," said the black-horned boy, shaking his head, "that kind of thinking gets you killed."
"Or famous," Asura replied with a smirk. "Depends who writes the history book."
The girl stepped closer, her eyes narrowing as she studied him more closely. There was something odd about him — his clothes weren't marked with any insignia, yet his presence felt... heavy. Not magical in the traditional sense, but older, deeper. Like standing near an ancient well of power pretending to be a puddle.
"What's your name?" she asked finally.
"Asura," he said easily.
Her brows furrowed. "Just Asura?"
"Just Asura."
"Right," she muttered. "Well, Just Asura, word of advice — if you're really searching for forbidden knowledge, you won't find it here. The Vaulted Tomes are sealed by royal decree. Only Magi, generals, or the Demon King's personal scholars are allowed inside."
"Royal decree, huh…" Asura's voice trailed off, something unreadable flickering behind his golden eyes. "Good to know."
The red-skinned boy stood, looking faintly exasperated. "You really don't take warnings seriously, do you?"
"Not when they sound like invitations."
The gray-horned girl sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You're insane."
"Probably," he said cheerfully. "But at least I'm self-aware."
He turned toward the next aisle, giving them a lazy wave over his shoulder. "Thanks for the lecture, by the way. I'll go find a book before I forget all that."
The group stared after him in silence.
"Who even is that kid?" one whispered.
The boy with the black horns scowled. "No clue. But did you feel that aura? He's not some commoner."
The girl's eyes lingered on the corner Asura disappeared around, her expression tightening. "...No. He isn't. But whatever he is—he's trouble."