"Xylon Sinclair " was his name as a human and there was nothing he could do about it, and the faster he accepted it the faster he would find a way to get his revenge .
Xylon Sinclair lived his first five years in a place called the Haven like all the other children under five even if they had parents, it was a safe place in a world ravaged by constant war with demons.
As he spent his days in the Haven , he kept hearing that the death rate among humans was staggering, and it was a miracle that anyone survived the relentless onslaught of demonic forces.
"Without a doubt, these fragile beings with their diminutive bodies and erratic, emotion-driven decisions could barely survive in their own company, let alone withstand the might of demonkind in battle.
The notion of these humans banding together to face the demonic threat was laughable at best, for their very nature rendered them unfit for such a task.
Their weaknesses and limitations made them easy prey for the cunning and power of the demon race, and it was only a matter of time before they would fall prey to their own inadequacies."
The world had changed irrevocably since the Gate of the demonic world was first opened, unleashing untold horrors upon humanity.
The once-bustling cities and towns were now in ruins, reduced to rubble and ash by the demonic invaders. Those who were lucky enough to survive the initial attacks banded together in tight-knit communities, relying on each other for protection and support.
In this bleak and dangerous world, Xylon learned to fend for himself and make do with whatever resources were available. He saw firsthand the brutality and desperation of those who were struggling to survive, as well as the kindness and generosity of those who were willing to help others in need.
He still remembers his first day in the Haven, Xylon Sinclair woke up, feeling disoriented and confused. As he looked around the room, he realized that he was in a new place, surrounded by strangers.
"And now, what a miserable fate has befallen me! Trapped in the body of a mere human infant, unable to even end my own life, I am forced to cling to these pitiful creatures just to survive my first few years. This punishment is beyond hideous, beyond cruel - the Lord of Demons has surely played his most sinister game yet."
Such were the bitter thoughts that plagued Xylon's mind as he struggled to come to terms with his new, humbling existence.
Despite his naturally calm nature, Xylon found himself unable to accept his new physical form as a human. He was bound to his tiny bed in the orphanage, surrounded by other children, and he couldn't help but feel trapped and frustrated.
The female workers at the Haven struggled to understand what was causing Xylon's outbursts. They tried to soothe him, to make him feel more comfortable, but nothing seemed to work. He continued to scream day and night, leaving them at a loss as to what to do.
Even though he was being fed, cleaned, and cared for regularly, Xylon couldn't shake the feeling of being trapped in this human body. He was used to the freedom and power of being a demon, and now he was confined to this small, fragile form. It was a constant reminder of his punishment and the cruelty of Balthyrov.
Xylon's second frustration was about the language , he couldn't understand a thing about what humans were saying around him .
There was nothing that was similar about the language of demons and the human language .
' Their language is just so weak like their bodies, compared to the Xntharalian language which most of the demons speak, it was too fragile' .
Xantharalian, the language of the demons, was a harsh and guttural tongue that seemed to carry the weight of death with every word. It was a language of violence, of power, of dominance. The very sound of it seemed to evoke images of destruction and chaos, of flames and darkness.
The demons spoke Xantharalian with a force that shook the very air around them. Their words were sharp and clipped, like the crack of a whip.
There was no softness in their speech, no room for emotion or empathy. It was a language designed for conquest and domination, to intimidate and subjugate.
To human ears, Xantharalian sounded like the growl of a beast. It was a language that made the skin crawl and the blood run cold. The words seemed to drip with venom and malice, carrying the promise of pain and suffering.
But to the demons, Xantharalian was the language of power. It was the tool they used to assert their dominance over the weaker races, to intimidate their enemies, and to control those who dared to oppose them. In their tongue, they could command armies, cast spells, and unleash the full force of their demonic powers.
For those who spoke it, Xantharalian was a weapon as deadly as any blade or spell. It was a language of darkness, of death, and of the infernal powers that ruled the demon realm.
Xylon knew that if he were to survive in his new life he had to do three things , he had to hide his identity , act like a human , and gain more power.
For the first few years of his life as a human, Xylon's existence felt like an endless cycle of feedings, naps, and diaper changes. He was confined to the dreary, cramped confines of the underground orphanage, with no sense of the world beyond its walls.
It wasn't until he turned five that he was finally allowed to venture outside with the other children, to explore what little remained of their desolate world.
As he emerged from the dim, musty shelter, Xylon was hit with a shock of cold, dry air that felt like knives against his skin. The sun was a distant memory, replaced by a dim gray haze that cast everything in a dull, lifeless pallor.
He looked around in awe, taking in the ruined buildings and rubble-strewn streets, wondering how any of this had ever been a thriving metropolis.
For the first time, Xylon saw the reality of the world he lived in. He saw the scars left by the constant battles between humans and demons, saw the twisted metal and broken concrete that marked where buildings had once stood.
It was a desolate, hopeless landscape, one that seemed to promise only more pain and suffering in the future.
Yet despite the bleakness of his surroundings, Xylon felt a sense of awe and wonder. For the first time in his human life, he was seeing something new, something outside the narrow confines of his sheltered existence.
He looked around at the other children, seeing the same mix of curiosity and trepidation in their eyes..
' I am not the only one who is surprised !'