The atmosphere within the castle was changing. It had become heavy, thick with a sense of unease that crept into every corridor, every room. Whispers echoed through the halls—fragments of something larger, something looming that the adults refused to discuss in my presence. Servants moved briskly, avoiding eye contact as they rushed about. The guards stood tense, their postures rigid as if bracing for an attack from the shadows. Even my father's usual hearty laughter had faded, replaced by a stern silence that followed him everywhere. There was an alertness in the air, a constant readiness for something unnamed.
I sensed it in the way Larina spoke during our training. Her instructions had become curt, her focus sharper. She didn't scold me when I pushed myself harder than usual or when my magic flared with an intensity that scorched the practice field. Instead, she watched me with a strange expression, something between awe and worry, as if she were trying to gauge how far I could go, how much power I could wield without breaking.
And I was powerful. More than they realized. More than I had fully understood until recently. During one of our sparring sessions, I managed to push Larina to her limits—something I had never done before. She stood there, breathing heavily, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and respect. She said nothing, but her gaze told me everything: I was surpassing expectations. I was becoming... formidable.
But it was with my father that the change in my strength was most evident. He used to challenge me occasionally, our sparring more a bonding exercise than a true test of my abilities. Recently, though, I noticed he had started holding back. It was subtle at first—a slower strike, a wider stance. He was testing me, gauging how far he could go without truly hurting me. But then, during our last match, something unexpected happened.
I had been holding back as well—not out of deference, but because there was always a part of me that feared what I could do if I let go completely. But during this match, my patience snapped. Perhaps it was the tense air, the whispers that trailed my father, or the memories of my past life creeping up on me. I didn't know. All I knew was that I struck out with more force than I intended. A spell that should have been controlled exploded outward, its sheer energy knocking him back several feet.
He recovered quickly—he was the Demon King, after all—but I saw it in his eyes: surprise. For the first time, he looked at me not as his son, but as an opponent. And for a split second, I saw fear in his eyes, quickly masked by pride. He laughed it off, clapped me on the back, but his gaze had changed, assessing me in a way that made my skin prickle. He didn't know. He didn't know I had been holding back, that the wind spell had been just a fraction of what I was capable of.
I didn't tell him. There was no need. Let him think it was a fluke, an accident. It was better that way. Better that he didn't know the truth of what I had become. Better that he remained unaware of how the memories of my past life had awakened a hatred so deep, so vast, it sometimes threatened to consume me. And in those moments, when my magic flared and my power surged uncontrollably, I felt a thrill, a sense of satisfaction that even frightened me.
...
..
.
That night, the castle was unusually silent. I lay in bed, the absence of the usual nighttime noises making it harder to fall asleep. It was as if the entire castle was holding its breath.
Then, my door creaked open, and my father, Xedeth, slipped inside. His serious expression caught my attention immediately.
"Aiden," he said, his voice low as if sharing a secret, "you're old enough now to understand what's happening in the kingdom."
I propped myself up on my elbows. "This sounds serious. Are we talking about a major diplomatic incident, or did someone find your secret snack stash again?"
Xedeth chuckled softly. "It's more serious than missing snacks. Nefaria has been mobilizing troops. There's a possibility of conflict, and we need to be prepared."
I raised an eyebrow. "Nefaria, huh? Got it."
Nefaria was the nearest kingdom, known for its water-element users. Our kingdom sat at the continent's edge, with Nefaria directly in front of us.
"That's right," he nodded. "You need to be aware of the bigger picture. As you grow, you'll play a crucial role in the kingdom's future. And right now, that future looks uncertain."
I straightened up. "Understood. Just to be clear, this doesn't mean my favourite meals are getting cut, does it?" I asked, trying to sound as childish as possible. I might be eighteen on the inside, but I am seven now.
He laughed quietly. "No, no cutbacks on meals. Just focus on your training and be ready for whatever comes our way."
"Got it," I said with a confident nod. "I'll be ready for whatever comes."
He gave a reassuring smile and turned to leave. With the door closed, I let out a loud sigh. I began to ponder what my father had told me. *Amassing troops, huh? Argh, humans.*
They had made me suffer in my old world, and it seemed they were here to do the same. But I supposed war was inevitable in this world. I shouldn't be too angry about it.
Humans.