"Alex! My dad brought back a beehive!"
Claire, my childhood friend, was practically glowing with excitement, her cheeks flushed with enthusiasm.
"I saw where he hid the jar of honey!" she said with a mischievous grin.
"Come on, let's sneak some!"
"What? You want to eat the honey he treasures so much?"
I—still just a brat back then—asked in shock.
"Are we even allowed to do that!?"
"Of course not! That's exactly why we should!"
Claire, a girl who knew the taste of forbidden honey at such a young age, was fearless and always dragging me into trouble. I'd lost count of how many times her reckless ideas got us both hurt.
But... those were fun times. We spent our days running wild through the village, with her always leading the way.
I remember it all fondly.
The peaceful village we called home, the sweetness of the honey we stole together... and Claire's father, furious when he discovered the honey that was supposed to be sold for a high price was gone. Claire was bawling her eyes out after getting scolded, and I got a good thump on the head from my dad for being her accomplice.
We behaved for a little while after being scolded, but a few days later, we were back to our usual mischief, causing a ruckus in the village.
And yet, everyone watched over us with warmth and affection—
"Hey! I heard redbane herb juice makes your hair fall out! Let's rub some on the village chief's head!"
"No way! He'll kill us if we do that! That's going too far!"
"You're such an idiot! The risk is what makes it fun!"
"This is insane!"
Despite my protests, I still followed Claire on her search for herbs.
Suddenly, I—the adult version of me—was standing in the shade, watching all of this. I knew that this joyful, happy scene was nothing more than a dream.
And I knew how it would end.
The peaceful world we lived in was suddenly drowned in darkness and flames.
"Monsters! Monsters are attacking!"
That night, we were jolted awake by someone's scream and strange, unsettling noises. The ground was shaking, and a chorus of eerie cries echoed from the distance, growing louder. When we rushed outside, we saw countless flickering lights moving down the mountain like ghostly flames.
Torches.
The Demon Lord's army had crossed the border and descended upon us without warning. Goblins, ogres, savage night elves, and the demon warriors leading them—
I was too young to understand any of this. But I knew something terrifying was happening.
"Run!"
The adults were frantic. Grabbing whatever they could carry, they tried to flee the village. But we were too slow. Or maybe the Demon Lord's army was just too fast.
The village was overrun in no time by the flood of darkness.
"Uwaaah! Stop!"
The village chief, trying to save his belongings, was devoured by an ogre.
"Help! Please, just save my child!"
The baker, Cedric, was killed by a night elf's arrow as he tried to shield his son.
"Nooo! Daddy!!"
Claire clung to her father's lifeless body, sobbing.
"Somebody, please help us!"
The last thing I saw was Claire being grabbed by the hair and dragged away by a night elf, goblins swarming around her—
"Someone—"
I reached out as her tear-streaked face locked eyes with mine for what felt like the last time.
"Claire!"
"Don't look!"
My mother grabbed me and ran before I could even think about helping her. My father rushed out to buy us time, acting as a decoy.
"You won't get past me! I won't let you!"
"Hah! What a joke, you weak humans! Die!"
My father's dying scream echoed in the night, as a demon with vibrant green hair laughed, raising a spear. At the tip of that spear, illuminated by the flames consuming the village, was something round and bloody... something that looked like a human head—
I was speechless. The shock, the anger, the despair... I could only cry. And even though I knew it was a dream, even as an adult, I couldn't move. It felt like I was being forced to relive the helplessness of that moment.
If only I were my adult self. If only I were the hero I am now.
Goblins wouldn't stand a chance. I'd crush them all.
I'd slaughter the ogres while I'm at it.
Night elves? They'd be nothing to me.
Even most demons wouldn't be able to stand against me now.
I could save the village! But—
"Dad! Claire!"
All my younger self could do was sob as my mother carried me away.
The sound of something slicing through the air.
A dull thud.
My mother groaned, "Ugh," but kept running as if nothing had happened. Despite her own pain, she kept stroking my head, trying to comfort me.
"It's okay... It's going to be okay..."
By some miracle, we escaped. The Demon Lord's army didn't pursue us any further.
Instead, their mocking voices rang out behind us.
"Run, you filthy worms! And tell your leaders! We're waiting for them! Anytime, we're ready for a fight!"
We hadn't really escaped. They had let us go. They had allowed us to flee, as messengers to draw in more victims.
We had served our purpose.
"Please... take care of him..."
After running all night to reach the neighboring town, my mother spoke her final words before passing away.
Her back had been pierced by several black arrows from the night elves. No ordinary person could have managed what she did—running all night with a child in her arms, bleeding from those wounds.
In the end, I was the only one who survived.
At least, as far as I knew.
As the sole survivor, I was taken to a larger city, then placed in an orphanage run by the church. Up until just a few days before, the Demon Lord's kingdom and the war beyond the mountains had felt like someone else's problem, far removed from my own life.
But everything changed. Everything ended.
After that, I threw myself into training with a single goal in mind—
I'll kill them.
I'll kill every last one of them from the Demon Lord's kingdom. That was my only wish.
I decided to become a soldier. To make those monsters pay. That became my sole focus.
The kingdom sent out several expedition forces, but each one was defeated with ease. Even as I trained, the military continued to lose, and the situation only worsened.
And just as I was about to enlist, I manifested holy powers during the Coming of Age ceremony and was sent to the Holy Kingdom to become a hero-in-training.
From there, it was non-stop training. But even as I prepared, my homeland was destroyed.
Once I mastered the use of holy magic, I was sent straight to the front lines, fighting alongside veteran heroes.
The war against the Demon Lord's kingdom was a back-and-forth struggle.
Actually, no—it was more like one step forward, two or three steps back.
More often than not, we found ourselves retreating in defeat, rather than celebrating victory.
Death was always close. But I survived. Driven by my hatred for the Demon Lord's army, I fought with everything I had to keep myself alive—just so I could kill as many of them as possible.
"Death to the servants of darkness!"
It wasn't enough. No matter how much blood was shed, I couldn't bring back the villagers, my father, my mother, or Claire.
I'll never forget her outstretched hand, tear-filled eyes, pleading for help.
...
I woke up.
A marble room. Luxurious furs piled high on the bed where I lay.
I looked at my hand.
Bluish skin.
The skin of a demon.
"Good morning, young master," said a voice.
By the side of my bed, a red-skinned girl with a monocle and a butler's outfit floated gracefully in the air.
Waking from a nightmare, only to face a terrible reality—now I was a demon prince, and every morning a demon butler came to wake me.
As far as wake-up calls go, it was pretty terrible. But—
Endure it. Endure this situation.
Because if I do, one day, I'll strike a fatal blow to the Demon Lord's army.
"Good morning, Sophia," I said, forcing a smile as I greeted the demon.
It had been almost two years since I was reborn as a demon.