The roar of the wind echoed in his ears, accompanied by a crushing weight that pressed against his entire body. Kael opened his eyes slowly, but all he could see was a crimson sky, streaked with swirling dark clouds like a vortex of hell. The sharp stench of sulfur stung his nose, making him realize he was no longer in the world he once knew.
"Is this… a nightmare?" he muttered, struggling to stand.
But something felt off about his body. His hands were now dark gray, his nails sharp like claws. He touched his face and felt small, curved horns at his temples. His heart pounded as he caught his reflection in a pool of water shimmering with a red glow. That face… wasn't his.
"Welcome, heir of darkness."
A deep voice boomed behind him. Kael turned to see a towering figure with glowing red eyes. A long black cloak billowed around the man's muscular frame, radiating an aura of menace.
"Who… are you?" Kael asked, his voice trembling.
"Who am I?" The man chuckled. "I am your father, Demon Lord Zevaris. And you, my son, are the heir to the throne of hell."
Kael froze. "No. That's impossible. I'm not your son. I'm—I'm human!"
Zevaris stepped closer, his cold smile sending chills through Kael. "You were human, yes. But your death brought you here, to the place where you truly belong. That human soul of yours is nothing more than a faint memory now. Accept the truth, Azeron. You are a demon."
The name, Azeron, felt foreign yet inexplicably familiar. Kael tried to resist, to deny it, but as he stared at his clawed hands, the reality struck him like a storm.
"Why me? Why am I here?" Kael—or Azeron—shouted, his voice filled with confusion and anger.
"Because you are special," Zevaris replied, his sharp gaze piercing through him. "And now, it's time to prove that you are worthy to be my successor. You will return to the human world, your former home, to complete your first mission as the heir to the Demon Lord."
"The human world?" Azeron's eyes widened.
Zevaris nodded. "You will bring destruction upon them. Begin by stealing the soul of a pure human. That will be your trial."
Azeron fell silent, his heart in turmoil. The human world was where he came from. He might not remember everything, but he knew he couldn't simply destroy it.
Before he could protest, Zevaris snapped his fingers. Azeron felt his body being pulled by an unseen force, sucked into a vortex without end.
"Prove yourself, Azeron," Zevaris's final words echoed. "Or perish like the weak."
---
Azeron crashed to the ground with a jolt. He opened his eyes to find himself in the human world. The cold air stung his skin, and standing before him was a girl with long brown hair and determined eyes.
"Who are you?" she demanded, her voice firm but tinged with unease.
Azeron tried to rise, but he could sense a strange aura emanating from her. "I… I won't hurt you."
The girl gripped a glowing sword, pointing it at him. "Don't lie. I know you're a demon."
Azeron froze. This girl wasn't an ordinary human. But who was she? And why did she seem so familiar?
Before he could respond, the sky above them cracked open, and creatures of darkness poured out from the rift. The girl glanced at Azeron with suspicion.
"If you're not here to fight me, then prove it. Help me stop them."
Azeron could only stare at her, caught between two choices: to aid this girl or to fulfill his father's command.
This decision would not only shape his fate but also the destiny of the human world.
---
Who is this girl, and what connection does she have to Azeron's past? Will he follow Zevaris's orders or defy his destiny as the Demon Lord's heir?
Continue to Chapter 2: The Hero and the Heir.