"-ummun—r new de–Lord!"
I blinked twice. "Uuuh… huh?"
Apparently a thousand years of being dead makes you lose your memories, because I have none. Yes, I am the new demon lord. Demon lord Blue. According to them, they just kidnapped a random human and used their body to summon me. I kind of feel bad for them, whoever they were. I realized this body was weak early on, and began to try to gain some strength. I had to be a good demon king. Wouldn't want to disappoint my subjects, especially because of how much they went through to give me life. It makes me happy to think about them.
I also decided to learn some stuff about humans, since I technically am one. I resorted to human literature, and found out that it was pretty common for humans and demons to fight, and there was always an epic battle between a demon lord and the hero of the humans. No one has ever beaten the hero before. I hope I can become the first.
6 years went by. The classic trope happened, all right. Except I WAS stronger. I had found new techniques that surpassed anything this world had known, and conquered all magic. I call it anti-magic. But my victory all fell apart with one question the hero asked. He was on one knee, nearly defeated. His teammates, though not dead (I am not merciless), were either incapacitated or unconscious. Fun fact, I have never killed another sentient being. I leave that to my lackeys. It's not particularly enjoyable for me to destroy life. It is a precious thing, after all. Anyways, I digress. The hero looked up at me as I smirked at him from above. The burnt down castle ruins complimented the mood of the hero's team. Fires, broken beams, dead bodies from its collapse, etc.
"Why?"
His words startled me. Why? Why was I doing this? I didn't answer him. I simply turned around and walked off. Well, partially. Midway, I stopped for a second. I turned and glared at him, "We'll be back in a century. Please, provide us with more entertainment. I did enjoy our fight." My speech was gravely, overdramatic, and haughty. Not like the real me. It was just for show, of course. I needed time to think. I couldn't take their land anymore. It just didn't sit right with me. Why, why, why?!? What was the point?!? Why did I do this?!?
It all clicked. I didn't have a reason to. But I didn't accept it. I felt like I couldn't. I didn't want to abandon my subjects in pursuit of the truth, and I didn't want to kill and destroy without purpose. So I decided to gain some, as few would call it, "drip." Behind a mask, I could feel more courageous, like I could do something without being recognized otherwise. Maybe I could do something with my life afterwords. When in the public, I wore a solid blue zip-up hoodie and black sweat pants. (A/N: they may have modern clothing, but the tech is still medieval.) I use these to hide my black hair and any sort of recognizable muscle structure. And to top it all off, I use a genius invention that helps me control my power. Essentially a limiter. What it helps me do is refine my anti-magic and minimize destruction. It is a sleeping mask that has the most recognizable words that only come from legends. Just kidding, it says "U R GAY" in bold letters on it. Any other time, I wear a blank white t-shirt and jeans. However I always use sneakers in both forms. I call the first form "battle mode" and the second "normal form," or as I like to call it, "the real me".
I told my subjects I needed to grow stronger to maintain my rule, and I couldn't take the land, for I liked the humans challenge, and I wanted them to keep producing warriors to fight me. So began a 2,494 year wait of bore. A hero was produced every century. I kept getting stronger, gained bloodlust, and increased my knowledge of the world to the point where at around 400 years, the hero's "goddess" challenged me. They didn't like how strong I was getting, and wanted to put a stop to my constant wins. They wanted my death. I almost killed them. They ran scared, with their tail between their legs. I didn't feel any happier. It is safe to say I am now the most powerful being in all the universe.
I ran. I left the demons in the dust, telling them I was leaving for a while to gain info on the hero. Yeah, no. I wanted to see the world. I really hadn't before. Besides the first instance, the heroes came to me. I decided to start up a business. As the real me, I set up a small tavern. It was a nice quiet life in the town where I was happy. I loved hearing people's stories and troubles, giving them advice and praise. Every bit of social interaction counted. I was maybe a bit bored at times, however, but I was at peace. I didn't need to ask myself why hundreds of times a day, I just needed to sit and be happy. And this is the town where I met the warrior who was to attempt to kill me. It was then I took advantage of the fact he didn't recognize me to become his first of four companions.