Zilbagias the Demon Prince: How the Seventh Prince Brought Down the Kingdom Volume 1 E-Book

Tomoaki Amagi

• Herausgeber: J-Novel Club
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Serie: Zilbagias the Demon Prince: How the Seventh Prince Brought Down the Kingdom
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Seitenzahl: 420

Beschreibung

The hero Alexander and his comrades unleash a daring raid on the Demon King’s castle, intent on assassinating him and bringing an end to the war against the darkness in one fell swoop. However, the raid goes awry when his party is effortlessly decimated by the Demon King’s overwhelming power. But death is not the end of the road for Alexander, as he is reincarnated two years later as that very same Demon King’s son. With the memories of his past life still intact, he vows to use his miraculous second chance to continue fighting—this time destroying the demonic kingdom from within as the Demon Prince Zilbagias. It doesn’t take long for his mettle to be tested either, as passing as a young demon prince without blowing his cover proves to be quite a bit more challenging than he initially anticipated.

Leseprobe

Table of Contents

Cover

Prologue

Chapter 1: Prince of the Demons

Chapter 2: The Devil’s Pact

Chapter 3: Denizens of the Dark

Chapter 4: The Elven Saint

Epilogue

Side Story: The Saint and Baked Sweets

Color Illustrations

About J-Novel Club

Copyright

Landmarks

Color Images

Table of Contents

Prologue

My name is Alexander. I know this is kind of sudden, but I’d like to tell you about my death.

On that day, the Panhuman Alliance launched a surprise aerial attack on the Demon King’s castle. With the aid of the white dragons, we were able to infiltrate their territory from a high altitude. I, together with a crew of handpicked elites from different races, was planning on defeating the Demon King himself... It may sound noble, but really it was just an assassination attempt. Regardless of the outcome, the assault team’s chances of survival were slim to none. The Panhuman Alliance was in desperate enough straits that we were forced to rely on these kinds of suicidal tactics. Considering the high altitude we had to reach, a number of the assault team’s members froze to death before even reaching the target. In exchange for that sacrifice, we made it to the castle unmolested.

The battle within the castle was fierce. As one might expect, the surprise attack took the demons entirely off guard, but panicked hysteria quickly shifted into organized defensive tactics. Archdevils leading the Demon King’s armies, vampire lords with power rivaling the original vampires, lichs wielding incredible magic, and countless members of the demonic royal guard stood in our way. That battle wasn’t the kind of thing I liked reminiscing about.

Plenty of the heroes—of my allies—fell before reaching our goal. There could be debate about whether it was lucky or unlucky, but eventually we did reach the Demon King. The arrogant monarch greeted us from his throne as we stormed in. Unlike humans, the demons operated on a system of absolute meritocracy. So being the Demon King was synonymous with being the strongest battlemage demon. Even if we hadn’t been completely fatigued by the time we reached the throne room...he was still unbelievably strong.

“You’ve done quite well to entertain me, heroes,” he spoke as he hoisted my dying body with one hand, entirely unfazed by the assault.

Overwhelming physical strength. Incredible magical power that warded off any magic we might use on him. And the devil pact, the wicked heresy engraved into his very body: Soul Eater. The death of each and every one of my allies fueled him, giving him the strength to continue his carnage. The battle had been a one-sided slaughter, a scene ripped straight out of a nightmare.

“For being so feeble, you humans did well.”

“Damn...you...”

“Oh? Quite the surprise. Even at death’s door you can speak.” Slowly but surely, his grip on my neck tightened. At this rate, my neck would snap long before I suffocated. “Your soul seems quite appetizing. I shall grant you the honor of providing me with sustenance.”

The Demon King’s dark magic flowed through his hand, into my neck, and filled my body. With my physical and magical strength already exhausted, I had no means to resist. I screamed as my body was wracked with a similar sensation to a balloon popping. I felt my flesh burst, my bones shatter, my whole body scatter into a thousand pieces. The Demon King’s raucous laughter was the last thing I heard as my mind slipped away into the darkness.

I was dead. Or...I was supposed to be.

The next thing I knew, my eyes had blinked open, staring into the face of that nightmarish monster once more.

“Hmm? Even for a baby, he has quite the daring look to him.”

“Aba?! Bababuba?! (Demon King?! Why are you here?!)” I tried to scream, but I couldn’t convey my thoughts into words. Something was wrong with my body.

What had happened? It felt like someone was carrying me. For someone to hold me in their arms like this, they must have been enormous—no. I realized I was the one who was tiny. My skin had taken on a strange pale hue and my arms were flabby and weak.

“Abwaba?! (I’m a baby?!)” I had been transformed into an infant—a demon infant, no less.

“He is quite an energetic little boy,” the woman holding me said.

“Hmm. I suppose there is no harm in having more heirs.”

“Your Majesty, if you would, please grant the boy a name.”

“Zilbagias.” The name had barely left the Demon King’s lips before he exited the room.

I was dumbfounded. This was unbelievable. That was hardly the attitude of a father meeting his newborn son for the first time. However, the woman holding me didn’t seem bothered by his behavior, giving a creepy laugh as she cuddled me in her arms.

“Finally... I finally did it... I finally have my own baby...”

The next thing I saw was the cold beauty of a demon woman’s face. Wait, hold on...was this supposed to be my mother?

What filled her eyes was not the unconditional, adoring love of a mother for her newborn child. It was determination, ambition, hatred—a hodgepodge of negative emotion.

“Zilbagias...” she cooed, the sweetness in her voice more unnerving than endearing. “You will be the next Demon King.” A chilling smile lit her face. “And you’ll trample all of those bitches’ brats on your way to the top!” Her voice morphed into uncontrollable laughter.

That was how I, the hero Alexander, met my end...and how I was reborn as the Demon Prince, Zilbagias.

Chapter 1: Prince of the Demons

Nice to meet you. I am the former hero Alexander, now known as Demon Prince Zilbagias.

A good deal of time had passed since my rebirth. The clarity of my memories as Alexander only lasted a brief time. Then I was sleepy all the time, lacked emotional restraint, and had a myriad of other difficulties. The most terrifying thing was that the more my focus slipped, the more my memory of who I once was started to wane.

Huh? Who am I again?

When that happened, it felt like my memories were fading away, as if Alexander was a stranger to me. It wasn’t much different to how you could remember your dreams quite clearly when you first woke up, but as the day went on, those memories started melting away.

I am the hero Alexander. No matter what anyone says, I’m the hero Alexander! I repeatedly told myself as I drank from a demon’s breast.

Anyway, I’ll spare you the details of my life as a baby, and instead summarize the information I gathered during my time in the Demon King’s castle.

First, two years had passed since our assault on the castle. In other words, it had been two years since the Demon King had killed me. The assault team had been slaughtered while the Demon King was as lively and healthy as ever. The assassination attempt was an utter failure.

Second, the Panhuman Alliance was still losing the war. With the Demon King still in power, his armies were in tip-top shape. The borders of the Alliance were gradually being driven back, and an entire kingdom was ravaged while I was an infant. Dammit.

Lastly, I was the seventh demon prince. Including myself, the Demon King had seven heirs. His oldest son was seventy years old, and his oldest daughter was sixty. The pattern continued down, each of his children being born about ten years apart. With a reasonably long life span of about three hundred years, though it wasn’t as difficult for them as for the elves, having children was no small feat for the demons. One could say that one child every ten years was actually well above the curve for them. However, seeing as I was his seventh child, apparently the Demon King was apathetic when it came to me as I never saw him after the day I was born. His statement that “there is no harm in having more heirs” seemed to have been an accurate showing of his disinterest in me.

That about sums up everything I had learned. What, you were expecting more? C’mon, I’m just a baby. There’s only so much you can do when your daily routine only consists of eating and sleeping.

“Obubu...bonba. (So...what now?)”

Lying in my cradle, I started thinking. I didn’t have a clue why I’d been reborn as a demon, but this was too good of an opportunity to pass up. I may have the body of a demon, but I will forever have the heart of a hero.

Question was, what should be my next course of action?

“Babuu... (Babuu).”

Damn, thinking can be quite the hassle. I was a hero. My job was to slay the enemies of humanity! When the pope said “go and kill them,” my job was to say “gladly!” and rush to the battlefield! I wasn’t good at anything else!

With nothing else to do, I tried shaking my cradle a bit. It seemed the cradle’s frame was made of bone. As far as I could tell, they seemed to be bones taken from a humanoid creature of some sort. Wait, was it possible this cradle was built from the bones of famous heroes? Damn you, demons! I will annihilate them all!

“Boba, buababa (I’m a hero).”

I reached toward the ceiling. My arm was flabby, my skin sickly pale. With training, these weak and flabby arms would take on muscle stronger than steel. As much as it pained me to admit, demons were far stronger than humans. Even without considering their physical strength and stamina, their magic was comparable to that of the elves. On top of that, the blood of the current Demon King now coursed through my body. What exactly were the limits to my potential...?

“Bobba! (All right!)”

I’d made up my mind. I was going to kill the Demon King! At the end of the day I was a fighter, so my options were limited. Fighting was second nature to me. Train my body, hone my skills, and make our mission to assassinate the Demon King into a success. It was time for an insurrection! I squeezed my flabby little hand into a fist.

“Bogya...”

Having made up my mind, I was feeling surprisingly motivated. So much so I started to cry.

“Bwaaaaaah! Waaaaaah!”

Oh, it’s this again. I’m hungry! Feed me! Feed me!

Unable to suppress my emotions, I could only cry. My tantrum quickly signaled my wet nurse to attend to me.

“Yes yes, little one. Time for milk, right?”

“Babu...”

Filling my belly with milk and my mind with thoughts of the Demon King’s demise, I drifted off to sleep.

†††

I had a dream. Beyond a nostalgic-looking forest, I found myself in a small rural village. I was young, accompanied by a naive, carefree girl.

“Alex! Dad found a bee’s nest!” Claire said, my childhood friend’s face brimming with excitement. “I saw him putting the honey in a pot!” she continued, donning a mischievous smile. “Let’s go taste it!”

“Wait, really?!” I replied. “You know how precious honey is! Are we allowed to just take some?”

“Of course not! That just makes it all the better!” As young as she was, the thrill of walking the narrow line of what was forbidden was just as sweet and satisfying as tasting honey. That was the kind of girl Claire was. She was extremely energetic, fearless, and never hesitated to drag me everywhere she went. This usually resulted in my well-being being sacrificed to satisfy her whims.

But...it was fun. Those days of being dragged around the village were a source of nostalgic joy for me now. Both the peaceful village we called home, and the taste of that forbidden honey.

Claire’s father was furious when he learned we had eaten the whole thing; hard to blame him since that was a lot of money now down the drain. Claire was of course scolded to the point of tears, and as her accomplice, I received a much more physical punishment from my father. She didn’t talk much for a few days after that, but it wasn’t long before her pranks were the talk of the village again. That was our childhood, surrounded by the love of our village.

“Hey! They say if you make a soup using red feather grass, it can make your hair fall out! Let’s go put some on the chief’s head!”

“No way! He’ll kill us! It’s way too dangerous!”

“Idiot, that’s what makes it fun!”

“You’re crazy!” My complaining was all talk; I still accompanied her to hunt down the herbs.

Ah, but I already knew. This delightful, joyful era of my life was fleeting. This peaceful, gentle world would soon be overrun by flames and darkness.

“Monsters! Lots of them!”

The sound of someone shouting woke me up that night. In a panic, I ran outside only to see countless tiny lights scattered across the dark mountainside, hovering like will-o’-the-wisps. Those lights were torches. The Demon King’s army had traversed the mountains that bordered our kingdom and invaded. Goblins, ogres, and the cruel night elf hunters. Leading them all was a squad of demon soldiers. I was too young to fully grasp everything that was going on. All I knew was that something terrifying was happening. That was it.

“Run!”

The adults were desperate. Grabbing whatever they could carry, then fleeing the village. But we were too slow. Well, it would be more accurate to say the Demon King’s army was too fast. The enemy forces emerged from the darkness, ravaging our village in no time.

“Ahhhh! Stop!” The village chief, trying his best to protect his personal belongings, was killed and devoured by an ogre.

“Someone, please! At least save her!” The baker Sedrick fell, killed by night elf arrows while sacrificing his body to protect his daughter, Claire.

“No! Dad!” Claire sobbed, clinging to the lifeless body of her father. “Help! Someone, help!” The last thing I saw was a night elf grabbing her by the hair and dragging her away. A group of goblins then swarmed around her.

“Someone...!” she pleaded, reaching out toward us—and our eyes met.

“Claire!”

“Don’t look!”

I tried to rescue her, but my mother picked me up and ran. In order to save us, my father stayed behind to act as a decoy.

“You’re not getting past me!”

“Ha, quite bold for human scum! Die!”

My father’s screams as his life was snuffed out echoed up to the night sky. A demon with brilliant green hair gave a shrill laugh, lifting its spear up high. On the tip of its weapon was something round, vaguely the size of a human head, illuminated by the light of burning houses.

I was literally speechless. The shock, the rage, the despair filling me only came out in tears. Just reliving this through my dreams showcased how brutally real everything felt. Even though it was just a dream, I felt powerless. It was like I was being forced to experience that helplessness again and again.

“Dad! Claire!” My younger self could do nothing but cry as my mother carried me away.

I heard the sound of something cutting through the air, dull thunks and my mother’s groans, but she continued running. As painful as it must have been for her, she still stroked my hair, trying to comfort me.

“It’s okay...it’s going to be okay...”

Miraculously, we escaped. The Demon King’s army didn’t pursue us any further. Instead, we were chased out by their scornful laughter.

“Run, you insects! Run to your puny lord! Tell him we’re here, and we’re waiting for him!”

No, we hadn’t escaped. They had let us go to draw out more humans to slaughter...and we were the tool used to set this in motion.

“Please...take care of him...” Running through the night and reaching the next town over, my mother used her last breath to ensure my safety. There were a number of black-feathered arrows protruding from her back. The most vigorous of soldiers couldn’t have done what she did, running throughout the night carrying a child with so many arrows in their back. Yet she had somehow found the strength to do so.

In the end, I was the only survivor. At least, as far as I knew. As a survivor and witness of the demon attack, I was escorted to a larger city, eventually being put in the care of the church orphanage. Just a few days before, the demonic kingdom on the other side of the mountains had felt so distant, as if the war was so far away it would be someone else’s problem. Everything had changed. Everything was over.

Not long after that I started training, pushing my body to the edge of death, struggling for every bit of strength I could muster. I’d kill them all. Every demon in that damn kingdom. That was my sole purpose in life.

I decided to become a soldier to prove my determination. The retaliatory force sent by the kingdom to avenge my village was effortlessly wiped out. While I trained, the kingdom’s armies couldn’t muster much in the way of victory—the situation grew more dire by the day.

On my coming of age day, I awakened the holy attribute within me, and so I was sent to the Holy Land to become an apprentice hero. My days were filled with yet more training. But while I dawdled, the kingdom I was born in was overrun. As soon as I’d gained some proficiency in the holy magic I was learning, I was dispatched to the front lines to stand alongside my seniors. The war against the demons was always one step forward, one step back. No, more like one step forward, two or three steps back, I suppose. The taste of defeat was more familiar than the thrill of reveling in victory.

My life could come to an end in the blink of an eye. But I continued to survive. It took everything within me to endure that festival of blood those disgusting demons brought upon us for even a minute longer, for even a second longer.

“Death to the dark!” I would cry. But it wasn’t enough. No matter how much blood I spilled, the people of my village, my parents, and Claire would never come back.

“Help—”

The last time I saw her is seared into my memory forever, tears streaming down her face as she reached for me.

I opened my eyes and found myself in a room of marble. Lying on a comfortable bed, layered in quality furs. I looked at my hands: disturbingly pale, the skin of a demon.

“Good morning, little one.” A monocled young girl, with reddish skin and a butler’s uniform, floated at my side. I’d gone from reliving a nightmare to an equally disgusting reality. Now, I was a demon prince, awoken every morning by this devil butler. There aren’t many worse ways to start your day.

However, I chose to bear it. I had to stay true to my convictions. If I could survive this, one day I may be able to deliver a fatal blow to the Demon King’s army.

“Good morning, Sophia.” I greeted the devil with an awkward smile.

Two years had passed since my reincarnation as a demon.

†††

When I’d been a baby, I could babble away without worry—that kind of came with the territory. But once I’d learned how to talk, keeping my true nature hidden was much more challenging. If I slipped up and blew my cover, it would all be over. So keeping a careful eye on my surroundings, I did what I could to act like a proper demon, and somehow managed to survive in my new life.

In two years, my body had grown quite a bit. Like, actually, a surprisingly huge amount. I was about the size of a human five-year-old. According to what I had learned, demons matured much quicker than humans, reaching full maturity by the age of fifteen.

It hardly felt fair. They already lived longer than us, so why did they mature faster too? That said, my rapid growth seemed to surprise the people I met in this new life, so maybe I was growing particularly fast for a demon. Maybe my deep-seated desire to grow up fast so I could take the Demon King’s head was accelerating my growth. That wasn’t something unique to demons either. Anyone with strong magic could use their words or thoughts to warp the reality around them. And I was a demon now, a race that boasted magical power comparable to the elves. Whatever the reason, if it brought me even one day closer to killing the Demon King, it was fine by me.

As I outgrew my wet nurse, I was then assigned a tutor.

“Today is the day, little one! After your meal, we will begin studying!”

That tutor was this girl...or rather, this devil in the form of a young girl. She wore sharp black and red butler’s clothes. Two horns sprouted from her forehead. As calm and composed as she appeared, her fangs alone proved she was anything but harmless. Almost as if an afterthought, small leathery wings akin to those of a bat or a dragon grew from her back, and now kept her suspended in the air. Her trademark was her monocle.

Her name was Sophia, and according to her, she was a mid-level devil that presided over knowledge. Apparently acquiring knowledge dictated her growth, both physically and in social standing. Given her nature, she was basically a proud walking dictionary, which made her perfectly suited to being a tutor. Having made a contract with the mother of my new body, she had tried to force me to a desk to study with an appropriately devilish persistence.

“The wisdom of the Abyss lies in wait for you! Now, let us begin working on our words and numbers!”

“No! Today I wanna explore the castle!” With an arrogance matching that of any demon, I stubbornly refused.

“What do you mean ‘today’?! All you do is explore the castle every day!”

“I hate studying.” I made no attempt to hide my sour mood. Sitting at a desk and learning hadn’t really been my thing even in my past life. After all, being a hero means having the heart of a warrior. The bare minimum understanding of literacy was all I needed. Learning the layout of the castle was much more beneficial.

“There’s more to being the Demon King than just being strong! You also need to be smart!” she said in an attempt to motivate me, but I didn’t really have any desire to be the Demon King. I just wanted to kill him.

“Hmm...I suppose demons have a strong impulse against authority...” she mumbled, pressing a hand to her forehead. “Okay then, little one! It’s time for exercise! Go exercise to your heart’s content!”

“Okay. I’ll go explore the castle, then!”

“Of course this time it doesn’t work!” Sophia clutched at her head in frustration as I responded with joy to her failed attempt at reverse psychology. Too bad! I couldn’t care less about learning! A knowledge devil is no match for me!

Sophia sighed. “Fine. For now, let’s at least get the waking meal out of the way.” With a snap of her fingers, servants pushed a wagon into the room. Night elves, beastfolk, and imps made up the motley crew.

Imps, like all devils, were bound by contract and thus couldn’t betray their masters. The night elves and beastfolk had been selected for their exceptional loyalty. For the record, they doubled as my bodyguards.

In short order, the servants arranged my waking meal on the table beside my bed. For a human like me, that was an unfamiliar term. Effectively it meant “breakfast,” but I was a demon now. The denizens of the dark were typically nocturnal, sleeping through the morning to wake up in the late afternoon or early evening. In other words, the first meal of their day wasn’t the “breakfast” we thought of as humans, but more like “lunch” or “dinner.” The distinction was quite annoying and confusing to be quite honest.

Unlike the undead, demons had no issue operating in open daylight, but we were still more comfortable in the dark. Looking out my window, I saw the dusky red sky of sundown. Evident by my own servants here, the workers in the castle were made up of nocturnal species, so the schedule of the castle centered around nighttime.

With fond memories of early morning breakfasts in my heart, I partook of the dinner before me. I scarfed down enough for two demons, using it to fuel my strength to defeat the Demon King!

“You really eat a lot, don’t you, little one?” Even though she was used to witnessing me devour my food like this on a daily basis, Sophia still gave a sigh of equal parts admiration and exasperation. I always ate with the passion of a man fighting to avenge his parents, though in this case I suppose my “parents” were the target of my revenge.

“Where is mother today?”

“My lady has been dispatched for an emergency inspection.”

Normally we ate together, so that explained why I was eating in my room today. Not like it really mattered anyway. If I did see her she’d just nag me about studying, so this actually saved me a bit of trouble. Weren’t demons supposed to value strength above everything else?

“She did leave a message for you. ‘Devote yourself to becoming the Demon King,’” Sophia added almost sarcastically, but I just ignored her.

All right. Now that my stomach was full, I needed to gear up to explore the castle.

“Exercise is certainly important, little one, but while your mind is still soft, you should really be taking the opportunity to learn—”

I just had to ignore the nonstop gabbing devil behind me. It was clear Sophia saw me as nothing more than a mischievous little boy. My camouflage was perfect, if I did say so myself.

Every scrap of information about the demons and the way they lived was useful. Depending on how things played out, maybe I could relay this information to the Panhuman Alliance. Though really, in my current state, any contact with the Alliance would have been quite difficult. Figuring out how to make all of that happen was a different matter entirely. But until I earned that freedom, I’d need to tolerate my current everyday life.

I have no idea how many years that may take...so please, humanity, survive until then!

†††

“My lady! Sir Zilbagias is neglecting his studies!”

Tattletale.

I was sitting in a small chair made of bone before my mother. After spending all of my time exploring instead of studying, it seemed they had decided to take their scolding up a notch. The demons called this chair the “seat of reflection,” and it was about as comfortable as getting stabbed to death. It was a pain in the butt, literally.

It was apparently used when scolding children or reprimanding one’s subordinates. Its small size was perfect for a child like me. A much bigger (and much more proud) adult being forced into a seat like this would be incredibly more humiliating.

“Zilbagias,” my mother said while snapping her folding fan shut.

“Yes, mother?”

Calling this creature my mother still felt weird. I only had one mom, and it wasn’t her. In turn, her eyes glimmered with cruelty as they gazed at me, a look unfit for any mother looking at her own child. This demon, in all her spine-shiveringly cold beauty, was my “mother,” Pratifya. Her nickname was Prati, a cute nickname that clashed with her cold exterior, but only her superiors within her own family and the Demon King could call her that.

Did he really call her that in private? That guy? I couldn’t even begin to imagine it. He probably only called her that to act as though he was showing affection, right?

“I understand your desire to grow stronger. It’s quite pleasing actually,” Prati said, pulling me out of my thoughts. “I also understand your distaste for studying. No one wants you to become a scholar.” Leaning forward on the sofa she was lying on, she peered into my eyes. “You will become the Demon King, Zilbagias.”

Her eyes were aglow with passion. The atmosphere suddenly shifted into something much heavier. Occasionally, Prati would talk like this, as if trying to imprint something on me. She then watched silently, waiting to see my reaction.

I don’t think I need to say it again, but I had no interest in becoming the Demon King. I just wanted to kill him. It was hard to find a response given how she was looking at me.

As I sat quietly waiting for the scolding to end, Prati sighed and leaned back. “My goodness, even for my own child, he is certainly quite willful, isn’t he? Don’t you think so, Sophia?”

“Absolutely, my lady. He is exceptionally obstinate...in many ways.” Sophia nodded emphatically.

“Come now, Zilbagias. Do you really hate studying that much?”

“Yes.”

“Not even a hint of hesitation. When I was little I hated studying too, so your feelings are understood,” Prati said, massaging her brow as if she was a mother worrying over how to raise her child. “To be serious, if you do not learn at least the basics of reading and writing, your future will be in question. Forget becoming the Demon King; simple tasks like reading the reports of your subordinates would be out of the question. And above all, everyone will view you as an imbecile. I can only imagine what the mothers of the other heirs would say...”

Her otherwise pleasant features twisted in disgust.

“First Prince Aiogias mastered reading, writing, and most of math by the time he was three years old. His mother has been high and mighty ever since. If you can’t accomplish more than him, it will be a problem for me!” As she talked, her mood was clearly deteriorating, ending with an expression far too hateful for the public eye. She clenched her fingers in anger, and the fan in her hand snapped.

So this was a vicarious battle between the mothers, was it? That said, her outburst had made me realize a misunderstanding I had.

I knew I could read and write to a limited degree, and math wasn’t too difficult. But these two thought I was totally illiterate, and couldn’t count past my fingers. No wonder they felt so pressured by my unwillingness to study. I had assumed time spent studying reading and writing was a waste, so I instead tried to investigate anywhere in the castle I was permitted to go. Maybe it would be better if I gave a bit of a concession here. That said, I had already declared how viciously I hated studying. It would be quite un-demonlike of me to suddenly switch gears and start following orders for no reason.

“Ah, there’s a good idea.” As I pondered the dilemma, Prati slapped the armrest of the sofa, apparently having found an answer herself. “Sophia?”

“Yes, my lady?”

“If Zilbagias hates studying so much, then by all means, let us test his abilities.”

Sophia’s face lit up. “Yes! So the next time he acts up, I can slug him right in the face, right?!”

I couldn’t help but do a double take at that. Was that much frustration really lurking behind all those exasperated sighs?! I mean, I know I was being a real punk, but come on!

“Yes, well...” Prati sank back into thought.

Wait, what do you need to think about here? The answer should be obvious! I’m a prince! Letting one of the servants hit me should be out of the question!

“I can’t allow that yet.”

Yet...?

“Avoid injuring him in any way that would require treatment. He will learn the pain of the battlefield when he’s older. We don’t want him to grow fearful and timid.”

“Then how far can I go?” Sophia asked.

“Nothing more than leaving bruises.”

“Yay!” Sophia was very clearly celebrating. That joyous look coupled with her fangs somehow made her look more devilish than usual.

“Of course, fighting without purpose is pointless,” Prati continued. “And if he’s too injured to actually study, then that defeats the purpose altogether. So let us set some rules for the contest.” Only upon attempting to open the fan did she realize she had broken it. Without missing a beat, a night elf maid standing in the corner of the room stepped forward to offer her a replacement.

“Zilbagias, if you hate studying so much, then you will fight Sophia,” Prati declared, hiding a haughty smile behind her fan. “You will fight unarmed. If you can land a single blow on her, you win. Once you do that, you are free to do as you wish for that day. Otherwise, if Sophia is able to knock you to the ground five times before you can land your blow, you lose, and must spend the next hour studying. After that hour and a short break, if you have no desire to continue studying, you will fight again.”

Those conditions were kind of...good?

“Do you not think Zilbagias has too much of an advantage with those rules, my lady?” Sophia remarked.

“You think so? I was trying to take your abilities into account.”

That said, as someone with the build of a five-year-old human child, I needed a considerable handicap. As small as Sophia was, she was still big enough to be an adult.

“Zilbagias, when it comes to demons like us, power is everything. The freedom you desire must be earned by force.”

Ah, that was exactly the kind of thing I would expect a demon to say. Kind of pissed me off.

“This experience should help make you quite strong... Sophia, have you done any studying yet today?”

“Not yet, my lady!” Sophia replied, beaming.

“Can you actually fight, Sophia?” I asked plainly. You couldn’t really judge a devil by their appearance alone, but compared to the devils I had fought in my life as a hero, she didn’t strike me as the fighting type.

“Now now, little one. I am a knowledge devil, remember? What do you think the very first thing I learned from you demons was?” Sophia flashed a bright smile. “From hand-to-hand combat all the way up to spearmanship, I learned everything! And I am more than confident that I can replicate it all!” That bright cheerfulness was soon overtaken by ferocity. “I think my knowledge will be quite beneficial to your education.”

Aha ha ha, you think so? Then bring it on, you lowly devil!

“Now then, little one. Are you willing to study today?”

If I were to be completely honest, after my previous realization, I felt like it would save me trouble in the future if I just did as I was told here. But what kind of demon would just roll over in a situation like this?

“Not a chance,” I declared, standing up from my seat.

“Oh, really? In that case...” Sophia could barely contain her laughter. “It’s study time, little one!”

A flutter of black and red flashed through the air as the butler swung a fist at me without the slightest hesitation.

As she closed the distance between us, my body responded reflexively. She was aiming for my stomach. Should I jump out of the way? No, she would chase me up into the air. I needed to parry it somehow. Slapping her incoming fist aside, I leaned around the incoming punch. My body moved first, my mind racing to catch up and communicate my choices only after the fact.

How ironic. Even in this new body, my old instincts still held strong. As that crossed my mind, I retaliated with a light jab. Sophia’s attack had been quite vigorous, but I could sense a softness in it, the laxness of one fighting with no intent to take their opponent’s life. A single hit was all I needed. At this range, even my little baby hands could reach her no problem.

“Whoa!” But as if to sneer at the laws of physics, Sophia jerked to a halt and dodged away from my fist.

Damn. This is why I hate devils. Floating around without giving a crap about gravity; only natural they’d apply that ability to hand-to-hand combat as well. I had been forced into more than one tricky situation by their illogical movements when I was active as a hero. If only my arms and legs were a bit longer... I couldn’t wait to grow up.

Giving up on a pursuit, I extended my left hand and held my right hand near my hip, shuffling sideways as I observed her.

“Oh?” It seemed Sophia was content to wait and see as well. She dropped to the ground, the sound of her claws clicking on the floor signaling her return to gravity. “You’re pretty good, little one,” she said, tilting her head in confusion as she looked me up and down. “But where did you learn to fight like that?”

My blood, boiling at my first fight in years against one of the denizens of darkness, quickly froze. There was no way a two-year-old would know how to fight like I just had. Dammit! My natural fighting instincts were actually backfiring!

“I saw them practicing at the parade ground.” Mind racing, I squeezed out an excuse.

“Really? Doesn’t seem like any demonic martial arts I know of...” Sophia copied my movements, sticking her left hand out and pulling her right hand back, then sliding sideways.

A shudder passed through me. She had almost perfectly replicated the stance, one taught by the Holy Church to its monks as an all-purpose close combat fighting style. After only seeing it a single time?! But wait, this was actually much worse! If she was replicating it, that meant I was showing it off clearly! Anyone familiar with it would immediately recognize it! As a cold sweat ran down my back, I glanced over at Prati.

“Unfortunately, no one else can replicate movements just by looking at them like you can, Sophia,” Prati sighed, fanning herself. “It only makes sense his movements would be off if he was trying to copy what someone else did. Besides, you’re only familiar with demonic martial arts, right? That doesn’t include any of the styles used by the other races.”

“I see. I suppose you are right,” Sophia admitted.

“Zilbagias’s movements look fairly close to the martial arts that the beastfolk practice. He must’ve seen some of the rank and file training.” Conveniently, she found a way to explain my abilities for me. “As expected of my son. If you can pick up things that well just by watching, I look forward to seeing what you can learn in the future.”

I was saved. As she had said, this particular form of martial arts was designed by mimicking the movements of the beastfolk. Giving it some more thought, the martial arts of the Holy Church were rarely witnessed on the battlefield by the Demon King’s armies. Unlike the beastfolk who could fight empty handed, or at least with teeth and claws, we used swords and shields. Losing our weapons usually meant we were dead long before we had a chance to engage in unarmed combat. Anyone who recognized my movements would have had to practice the same style, or be some kind of weirdo who was constantly getting into fistfights with humans.

“It seems we should’ve started his physical training earlier. I thought he was too young for it.” While I was overcome with relief, Prati continued, conspicuous disappointment in her voice. “Zilbagias, as a proud prince of demons, having picked up the beastfolk’s martial arts first will be a stain on all of our reputations. You are to abandon what you have learned for now, and focus on learning the martial arts of our own people.”

“Okay,” I replied after a short pause, a little nervous. Luck was on my side today, but next time I may not be as lucky. Whether Prati commanded it or not, abandoning what I knew about fighting would be like throwing away a piece of my past as a hero.

“Now then, Zilbagias. It’s time to teach you the honorable and historied lineage of martial arts passed down among the demons.” Though she hid her mouth with her fan, there was no missing the sadistic grin that crept onto her face. “Don’t worry. We have all the time in the world. Sophia, please take it from here.”

“Yes, my lady.” Sophia took a stance again. This time she had both hands raised, an aggressive stance that looked ill-suited to a girl of her stature.

Ah, so this is the “honorable and historied” martial arts of the demons?

“Honestly, you’re putting up much more of a fight than I expected. I’m going to enjoy this more than I thought. It seems underestimating your moves is not an option. Actually, I might even be able to learn something from them.”

Dammit! If I slip up again, she’ll memorize my moves in a flash. There’s no telling when that would come back to haunt me.

“All right, here I go!” Casually announcing her attack, Sophia lunged forward.

With my skills from my past life forbidden to me, what I had to offer was nothing special. In no time at all, I was flat on my back. That said, I was still a child, so she was obviously pulling her punches. Compared to the pain of being disintegrated by the Demon King, this was nothing.

“Ah! I did it! Finally! Finally we can study!”

Glancing back at the deep emotional event Sophia seemed to be experiencing, I reluctantly trudged over to the desk. I had lost, so it was time to study. There was no helping it. For now, I’d pretend to make an effort here to learn the bare minimum of reading and writing. But once I get older, I’ll beat the stuffing out of that damn devil!

As I entertained those thoughts, a piece of paper was placed in front of me.

“Now then, little one! These are what we call letters!”

Some kind of cipher was written on the page. It was practically gibberish to me.

“Wait...huh? These are letters?” I said dumbly.

“That’s right,” Sophia replied, “these are the letters of the demonic language.”

Now that I thought about it...I remembered something one of the priests I had served under said once. Even though we spoke the same language, the demons had a different writing system...so even if we swiped their sensitive documents, it would take time to decipher their contents.

“Now, little one! The letters of the demonic alphabet are all phonetic. Each has its own unique sound. This one sounds like ‘ah.’ This one sounds like ‘ee.’ If you combine them, the sound changes. Ah, you’re probably curious since I called them phonetic, but there are also ideographic alphabets out there too, used by humans and elves and such. In those alphabets, each character has its own meaning, rather than its own sound—”

Sophia continued her rapid-fire explanation. I could feel my soul leaving my body already. My horrifying memories of studying reading and writing day in and day out back at the orphanage started to resurface.

Facing this fate again may have been the greatest despair I had felt since my rebirth.

I could really never forgive these demons...

†††

I’d been getting strange headaches as of late, and before long, I sprouted horns.

Five years had passed since my reincarnation. As I sharpened my fangs for my inevitable rebellion, I spent my days studying, practicing the demonic school of martial arts, and investigating the castle (running around it basically). Out of nowhere, I was tormented by an agonizing pain coming from both sides of my head. Kind of hard to describe, but it was drastically different from one of Sophia’s punches. Despite the strangeness of the situation, I went to bed like normal, then woke up to find my pillow soaked in blood. Something felt off, so I checked and sure enough, I had horns. Even though they were still quite small, those horns were symbolic of all demonkind, and they were growing from the sides of my head.

“Congratulations, little one! Actually, that name isn’t quite suitable anymore. Congratulations, Lord Zilbagias!” As I sat dumbfounded, feeling around my new accessories, Sophia entered the room while clapping. Even though it was the same old Sophia, I was left speechless at the sight of her.

At first, it was like I could see a storm of magical energy swirling inside of her. But that wasn’t exactly right. It was more like she was a storm of magical energy. Rather than being a physical being, it was more like she was a howling wind that had been forced into a humanoid form. Everything about it seemed so...unnatural.

It actually made a lot of sense. That would explain why devils exploded to varying degrees when they died. Their “form” was being destroyed, so all the energy bound within them was being released at once.

“Ah, looks like you can see it now, Lord Zilbagias,” Sophia grinned, spreading her arms like a magician onstage. In between her outstretched palms, magical energy leaked out and formed a collection of words in the demonic alphabet: “Congratulations on Graduating From Hornless-ness.” Even when taking my past life into account, this was the first time I could see magical energy so vividly.

So, this is how mages see the world? I suppose other races adept at using magic, like dragons and forest elves, could see the same thing. It was common knowledge that a demon’s horns were an important sensory organ, but I’d had no idea they were this powerful. It was like I was seeing everything in a new light, even the world before my very eyes.

“My lady will be pleased to hear about this! Especially since it happened so early. Normally demons don’t grow their horns until eight or nine years old, and for some late bloomers, not until they’re ten.”

My thoughts drowned out her voice as I bit my lip. This was proof. I was no longer human and had been reborn as a demon. Until now, I’d been able to distract myself from that reality by immersing myself in my daily life, but there was no denying it anymore. The world I knew was completely different now.

There was also another shocking realization—I’d never be able to sleep on my side again. But I can never manage to fall asleep when sleeping on my back...

“Incredible! Is this the first time a child has grown horns this young?!”

As expected, Prati was ecstatic. She was probably itching for any opportunity to go brag to the mothers of the other heirs. With those pessimistic thoughts in mind, I took a moment to observe her to get a gauge on her magical potential.

She was strong. Easily a high-level demon, which was fitting as a wife of the Demon King. Compared to the whirlwind that was Sophia, her presence was more like a massive, solid boulder. Having a physical body likely was a major factor in that regard. For better or for worse, she was more stable.

“Congratulations, Lord Zilbagias.”

“Congratulations!”

I turned my attention to the servants in the corner of the room, bowing as they congratulated me. Despite my familiarity with these maid imps, they somehow seemed smaller. If I were to compare Sophia to a lion, these imps were more like rabbits. It would probably take a hundred of them to even come close to her beastly energy.

Speaking of which, the beastfolk seemed even less reliable. Their physical capabilities trumped that of the imps, yet they were greatly lacking in a magical sense. Kind of put into perspective why demons treated them as a lesser race. Humans probably didn’t look much different. Last were the night elf maids. They also seemed weaker than I had expected. More impressive than the beastfolk, sure, but they were on about the same level, maybe a smidgen higher, than the imps.

The story goes that the night elves were the descendants of elves that had been exiled from the forest elves’ society. In ancient times, the elves worshipped the spirits, so their lifestyle complemented nature by living in harmony with the forest and its animals. But over time, some of them came to reject the wholehearted embrace of nature. They indulged in hunting, and had no qualms trying to twist nature to suit their whims. In the end, the friction between these two groups of elves blossomed into a civil war, and the rebels were exiled from their forest homes.

Likely because they had lost the favor of the spirits, their magical abilities diminished and their life spans began to shrink. Despising their forest brethren, they turned to worshipping the gods of darkness, calling themselves “night elves.” At this point, they were effectively an entirely different race. On one side were the forest elves, proud wielders of incredible magic and with a rich, healthy tan to their skin. On the other side were the night elves, abhorring sunlight and sporting deathly pale complexions.

Losing their magic had some upsides. The night elves adapted to life in the darkness, their crimson eyes able to perceive heat as well as light. Their skill with bows was so widely renowned it surpassed that of the forest elves. Granted, forest elves had little need for bows and arrows given their incredible magic.

Anyway, the night elves waged a perpetual war of revenge against their forest brethren. While clinging to the hope of reclaiming their magic and long life spans, they offered their blood as sacrifice to the gods of darkness out of desperation. So despite being of an entirely different race, they had jumped at the chance to cooperate with the warmongering demons in their invasion of foreign kingdoms.

With the same love for bloodshed and cruelty, and the same sickly pale skin, the demons and night elves got along quite well. At least, on the surface.

“Congratulations.”

Though the night elf servants congratulated me all the same, there was a certain coldness to their smiles. The night elves were treated well due to proving their loyalty time and again, dating back to when the demons formed their kingdom, but their weakness in the realm of magic led to them earning the disparaging nickname of “the hornless.” No matter the similarities to demons in terms of looks and demeanor, the lack of horns and thus magical abilities meant they were perceived as being weak. There were also the devils, a race bearing the same magical prowess as the demons, and even growing similar horns.

“Congratulations.”

There was nothing I could do but ponder about the true feelings behind those cold smiles as they congratulated me for getting my horns, the symbol of great magical power.

But there was one thing I knew for certain. The Demon King’s army was no monolith.

“Once again, congratulations, Zilbagias. I’m sure you will gain a new perspective on the world from this day forward.” Having calmed down a little, Prati continued fanning herself. “At minimum, you should be capable of defending yourself. Until now, we have put firm restrictions on where you may go, but now we can give you more freedom.”

“I can defend myself?” I echoed, tilting my head in confusion.

“Firm restrictions” was no exaggeration considering I had basically never left the castle, and there were some places within the castle which were completely off-limits. For one, I was forbidden from entering the palace where the Demon King and my older brothers and sisters lived. The reasoning I’d been given was that it was too dangerous. There was no telling what the other princes and princesses or their families would do to me, but did growing horns really change the circumstances that much? What, did demons literally lock horns when they fought or something?

“Allow me to demonstrate the blessing that those horns are, Zilbagias.” With a suspicious smile, Prati snapped her fan shut. Energy poured out of her, flooding the entire room.

“Kneel.”