Luan Akay is a Demon Lord – hell, he says he is the strongest Demon Lord to have ever existed. He towers over everyone, human and Demon alike – in fact, he's so tall that he often complains of having a sore neck from looking down at everyone constantly. He's so tall, he has subordinates who have to stand on stools in order to dress him in his jet black robes in the mornings. He's so tall … I do apologize, but Luan Akay is very fond of how tall he is – it's his favorite thing about himself.
There are rumors that say Luan can blast a hole the size of a city in a mountain with one single flick of his finger. They say he can turn anyone into dust with a mere snap of his fingers. They say he can sway just about any man or woman, human or Demon, with his looks alone. Probably because they've heard how good he is with his fingers … Ahem.
Luan is even so powerful, he can conjure any of his weapons from out of thin air, without even having to think about it. He can set things ablaze with his hands, and conjure winds strong enough to knock down castles. He says - ahem, they say, that he can take any beast with his aura alone; that he's so strong he doesn't even have to fight to win a battle. All in all, Luan Akay is a very strong Demon Lord. The strongest, even.
At least, he used to be the strongest.
But he's old now. At least a couple dozen centuries. And that fact is excuse enough for the new Demon prodigies – the real strongest Demons, to start a rebellion against the old Demon ways and progress in their war with the human realm. A war which the 'old' and 'greying' Demons have been stuck in for millennia.
These new, young Demons are eradicating all who stand in their way to rebuild the Demon realm to be accustomed to the new generation. And unfortunately, Luan Akay being the strongest Demon Lord around, suddenly had millions of targets on his back. Instead of everyone constantly fearing him, a bounty for his head made everyone crave his blood.
He couldn't eat or drink, as food and consumable liquids would always be constant – not that Luan had to consume food and drink, but he found the taste enjoyable. He couldn't wander streets at night, or even visit his regulars at the brothels, as they would be looking for an opening to slice off his head. He couldn't even wander around his own home without setting off hidden booby-traps people had sneakily placed.
At first, it was amusing – enjoyable, even – watching everyone struggling to kill one Demon. But then the pros came. The mercenaries, bounty hunters, and the assassins who were all extremely good at their jobs. Luan hit a mountain of depression and struggled with overcoming it. In fact, he never really did.
He was not afraid of death; he just wasn't ready to die yet. At least, that's what he told himself. A prestigious Demon Lord like himself could never admit to being afraid of something so inevitable.
Finally, Luan was tired of the constant spine-tingling fear he felt wherever he was faced with a formidable opponent. And unluckily for him, every new opponent he faced left him with more scars and drained more power.
Without a single glance back, Luan ran from his home – a black marble palace much too large to only have himself residing in it – and escaped into the wilderness, where his hit village after village in hopes of a new-found freedom.
His hope for freedom never came.
One night, six weeks after he first ran from home, he found himself in a tiny inn somewhere in the human realm. He didn't have much money on him – he was strong, so jobs weren't scarce in terms of his abilities, but he always forgot to shit his appearance into something less … intimidating. And therefore, Luan often had to sleep out in the open fields, or in trees, and scavenge for any kind of job he could get his hands on … Any kind. Even entertaining old widows who were craving someone young … He really had stooped to his lowest point. But after weeks of hard-earned labor and restless nights out in the open, Luan had finally saved up enough money for a room at this tiny inn. Even if it was only for one night, Luan's ego needed to be saved. Desperately.
Luan had had his first warm bath in weeks, eaten a decent meal and snuggled under bed sheets, when a sudden creaking had him jolting upright. A dark shadow sat upon his windowsill, two golden eyes and a shining smile protruding from their shadowed face. Luan called upon his mighty greatsword, a beast of a weapon with a golden dragon wrapped around the handle and many colorful jewels studded in random places, and slashed at his opponent, who blocked with attack without so much as flinching. Soon, the whole room was filled with people of all different races and genders, carrying all different kinds of weapons. But each wore the same spine-tingling smile upon their faces. Each hungry with bloodlust.
After hours of fighting, at least a hundred dead bodies, a burning inn, and screaming villagers, Luan emerged from the battle ground with a noticeable limp, and barely able to keep his composure. Since when had he become so weak?
Luan finally collapsed head-first into the ground, half a mile out from the village, wounds bleeding, bones broken and protruding from his skin, and his power almost completely depleted. The wounds and broken bones would heal in no time, but his power would not be so quick to return.
Luan groaned into the dirt. He could only think of one thing that could help him save his limited powers. Without moving, Luan sighed deeply, as his body began to shrink. His unkept, bushy, brown hair shortened to fit his new stature, which was a quarter of his past height. His sharp cheekbones and jaw rounded out and his cheeks now had that soft youthful chubbiness. His dark blue eyes were round and soft, although they still burned a cold and dead flame.
This was now the face of an eight-year-old child. This was also the body of an eight-year-old child.
Luan finally picked himself up from the ground, painstakingly, as his bones begun to slide back into place. His robes almost slipped right off and he knelt, far too big for someone of his new height. Luan sighed. Expending more energy to fix his robe size was a pain, but he couldn't walk around like this for the next week or two as his power restored.
With a final snap of his fingers, Luan's robes shrunk to a decent size for his new appearance. They were still slightly oversized, but it was more comfortable this way.
… FUCK.
Being stuck in the body of a fucking child.
This really was the Demon Lord's worst nightmare.