The 13th Demon King of Firenza, Jacob Daniels, limped through the halls of his castle.Jacob shut his eyes and tightened the grip on his arm. Hot blood pooled between his fingers. My castle, he thought dully—what a joke.
Two weeks ago, he had just graduated from college. Jacob remembered walking onto the stage and shaking hands with Alabama's Dean of students. Jacob had looked out into the crowd and seen his mom and dad. They waved at him smiling. Jacob smiled back.Four years, he thought, and now I have to go into the real world. Jacob felt a twinge of fear as he walked off stage. Am I even ready for the real world? Jacob thought as he clutched his diploma tightly in both hands. He didn't have a job yet. Jacob had a callback to interview for Teach for America, but that wasn't really anything yet. And did he even want to teach? Jacob felt his smile fade as he walked off the stage.Am I even ready for the real world? Jacob wondered.The next thing he remembered was falling.A gut-wrenching, visceral tearing as he was dragged by the soles of his feet straight down. Dimly Jacob remembered opening his mouth to scream. No sound came out. A hollow wind seemed to tickle his ears. Down. Down. Down. he went.Jacob saw only blackness. Inky silky darkness. And then as suddenly as it began, it stopped.Jacob found himself standing in a circle of pulsating red light. He looked around in confusion. His diploma clutched in both hands like some sort of warding staff. Jacob's black graduation gown billowed around him.Men and women stood around Jacob. They wore strange robes and had odd hair and eye colors. One woman had pink hair with red eyes. A man had dreadlocks a shade of cerulean with a pair of lemon yellow eyes. Their robes billowed around them as if pulled by an unseen wind.One man who wore robes stained a deep forest green bowed his head deeply to Jacob."We have succeeded!" The man proclaimed in a shrill voice. "We have summoned him! He who shall be the 13th Demon King!"The other men and women made sounds of joy and applause. One by one, they fell to their knees. "Glory to the 13th!" They cried. "Glory to the great lord of demons! May he prove victorious over the Hero!"Jacob stood stupefied. The man in the green robes stared up at Jacob from a kneeling position."My great king." The man said. "We live to serve. What are your commands?"Jacob frowned at him, and for several long moments said nothing.Other acolytes began to raise their heads to look at Jacob as well.Finally, Jacob asked, "I'm sorry. What exactly is going on?"
In the two weeks since that day, Jacob had been informed of three significant pieces of information. First, he had been transported to another world. A fantasy world, so basically, he had been turned into every Isekai protagonist ever—joy of joys. Expect Jacob wasn't expected to be the great hero who saved the world, oh no. Jacob was supposed to be the great Demon King who conquered the world and fought against the Hero. The other idiot that was summoned from another world. The demonic ministers and advisors all assured Jacob that he had a solid thirty years until the Hero emerged. They were all also very optimistic about how Jacob was going to beat this Hero and user in a new age of Demon supremacy. Yeah, Jacob had thought dumbly because that's how these stories always end. He was going to be lucky if the Hero and whatever ragtag group of friends they amassed didn't take turns peeing on his corpse after they had killed him. The third and final lesson Jacob had learned, and somewhat recently, was that demons do not take well to their 13th, and allegedly supremely powerful king summoned from another world turning out to be a regular human. A run of the mill college graduate who had chosen to double major in English and History, and was banned from his college chess club for...well Let's call them political reasons. Freaking Josh.
Anyways that is why we now find our valiant hero...ahem. Demon King. Limping through his castle after a revolt by several of his ministers and General Belial. As a student of history, Jacob knew that revolutions rarely end well for the people who are revolted against. When General Belial's armies first surrounded the Demon Capital of Gehenna. Jacob swore rather profusely. "He's never going to keep me alive," Jacob told the palace butler Alberich. "He's going to execute me publically, and messily." Alberich, a grandfatherly demon, and amongst the few in the palace who did not eye Jacob with outright hostility or disgust, looked at him sadly. "No, my king, I imagine the General will most likely eat you alive." Like most people being told that he was about to be cannibalized, Jacob stared at Alberich in open-mouthed horror. Alberich shrugged at Jacob. "It is the demon way." Jacob closed his eyes tightly and massaged his temples. "Is there nothing I can do?" he asked. "I know I am not what everyone was expecting when they summoned me but still…" Alberich sighed deeply. "My king, what is your current level?" Jacob frowned, and then said, "Status," A window appeared in front of Jacob. It surprised him still, how much this world was like a video game. Or, Jacob thought dryly, like another poorly written isekai story that will never live up to Overlord or Sword Art Online. Jacob frowned at the numbers. "Level 5 overall. The only skill I have is Assimilation. Spells are Mage Light and Lesser Healing. My classes are King and Figurehead." Jacob's frown deepened. "Figure Head? Really? I wasn't that bad! And I've only been here for two weeks!" Jacob turned his glare to Alberich. "I think you have to let your ministers run things for at least a year before people start calling you a figurehead!" Alberich sighed again. "My king, for we demons, strength is everything. General Belial is level sixty-five. More than ten times your level." Alberich paused, considering. "And all past Demon Lords had achieved at least level seventy by the time they had reached the throne." Alberich eyed Jacob, "Additionally, you have allowed the ministers to run the kingdom since you came to power, it is no wonder they have decided they no longer have need of you." A rather large part of Jacob had wanted to scream at that. At the unfairness of someone expecting him to be a good king. At being expected to be strong and ambitious. At having his life taken away from him. When Jacob thought of home, of his parents, of his brother and sister, a pain like a shard of glass being twisted in his heart hit Jacob. Jacob smiled at Alberich bitterly. "I don't think I was meant to be your king." Jacob looked out the castle window and gazed at the army General Belial commanded. "Perhaps, this is how it should be. Belial will be more like the demon kings before me, right?" Jacob closed his eyes tightly. He almost jumped as Alberich laid a hand on Jacob's shoulder. "And that my king," Alberich said softly, "Is why he should not be king," Jacob looked back at the old demon in surprise. Alberich hesitated, his yellow catlike eyes dilating slightly. "This country needs a leader who will build not destroy. Who will ready us for the Hero's coming." Jacob felt Alberich squeeze his shoulder gently. "That is you, my king, not Belial. Belial will run this country into the ground waging war against the humans. He cares nothing for the common folk." "And you think I do?" The words spill out of Jacob's mouth, bitterly. "You barely know me, Alberich. If I had Belial's power, I might be just like him. Or worse." Alberich smiled at Jacob. "My king, I may have only been with you for a few weeks. But I know the kind of man you are." Alberich's yellow eyes seemed to pulse slightly. "You are different from Belial. If you had his power, you would build not destroy." Jacob sighed profoundly and returned his gaze to the Rebel army outside of his castle. "I guess we will never know, Alberich," Jacob said softly. "They'll breach us before tomorrow; I heard the guards talking about it." Alberich was silent for a long moment. Jacob turned to look back at the old demon. Alberich had his brows knit in thought. "My king," Alberich said finally. "There may be a way for you to defeat Belial." This caught Jacob's attention. "What?" He said, "How?" Alberich looked reluctant. "It is a...forbidden thing. An unclean thing. But it might work for you." Jacob felt a flower of hope bloom, deep inside of him. Despite everything else, He wasn't exactly ready to die yet. He wanted to go home desperately. Jacob had begged the priests who had summoned him to send him back. They hadn't known how, but if there were any way for him to return home, Jacob would need to be alive to find it. Jacob stared at Alberich. "I would do anything to stay alive," Jacob said honestly. Alberich hesitated. "I would need to exact a promise from you, a deal if you will." Jacob gritted his teeth. "I said I would do anything, didn't I?" Alberich nodded slowly. "Promise me that you will lead this country to prosperity." Jacob hesitated for an instant and then nodded. "Yes, I promise you." Jacob had very little idea how he was going to keep that promise, but the prospect of staying alive motivated him. There was a crashing sound, Jacob and Alberich both froze. The sounds of shouts and steel on steel filled the hair. Flashes of brilliant scarlet and azure light began to dance outside. Alberich stuck his head out the window and quickly pulled it back in. Alberich swore softly, surprising Jacob. He hadn't thought the old man knew how to swear. Alberich grabbed Jacob by the arm and began pulling him demandingly. "We haven't much time. The rebels have breached the walls and will be upon us soon." Alberich pulled Jacob through the castle halls quickly. Jacob barely had the time to catch his breath. "Where are we going?" He asked. "The Catacombs," Alberich said. "It is your only hope of survival.
Alberich hadn't made it to the Catacombs with Jacob; the two had met a pack of rebel soldiers in an earlier hall. Alberich had shoved him on ahead. "Run, my king!" Alberich cried, "The doors will open only for you!" Alberich had spun around and begun hurling blasts of ice magic at the rebels. Jacob stood there for a moment watching in stunned horror. "Run!" Alberich screamed. A Rebel soldier had tackled Alberich to the ground. The soldier held his sword overhead and brought it down in an arc. Jacob ran. He dashed like a madman through the black marble hallways of the palace. The silk slippers, the only shoes the demons thought to give Jacob slipped and snagged on the smooth floors. Hallways and staircases blurred together in a nightmare of black and red scenes. Guards ran past him. Maids scurried and hid in rooms sobbing and wailing. No one seemed to notice that their very human king was running past them. After what felt like an eternity, Jacob found the doors. They were made of neat white quartz. Dragons and devils danced in them in perfect carvings—the entrance to the catacombs. Jacob lay a reluctant hand on the twisting ivory handle. It felt like a cold snake wrapping around his hand. He had only been to the catacombs once. A week ago, though, it felt as if a decade had passed. Past Demon Kings were interred here. All of them. Earth magic was used to push older Demon kings deeper underground to make room for new ones to be buried. Jacob had also heard that in the past, servants were buried alive alongside Demon Kings. Which was why the catacombs were now ripe with the undead. Jacob tightened his grip on the handle and felt ivory scales dig into his palm. Why had Alberich sent him down here? Was there some sort of weapon buried with these long-dead rulers. Or was it just Alberich telling him to go ahead and bury himself. Spare Jacob from being eaten alive by Belial. A wave of cold nausea gripped Jacob by the shoulders. It held him tight. Maybe it would be easier just to give up here. Stop and let Belial eat him. Maybe dying here would let Jacob go home. Jacob stood perfectly still. Would that work? Wouldn't that be so much easier than all of this?
Screams of pain and panic tore through Jacob's thoughts like a knife cutting butter. Jacob leaped back to reality. Those screams meant that the rebels were getting closer. They would find him soon. Jacob stared at the neatly carved white door. Dead if I stay here, Jacob thought. And the dead inside. What do I choose? Alberich's words slipped into his thoughts, "...lead this country to prosperity." Jacob wanted to be good at this, he realized with a start. He wanted to be a good king. Jacob wasn��t sure why or how this notion had taken him, but...it consumed him. Without looking back, Jacob opened the doors to the Catacombs. They swung open silently. But they closed behind Jacob with a slight hiss.