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Dwija: The Demon Lord’s Duality

🇮🇳Karan_0495
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Chapter 1 - Chapter 1: The Demon Lord’s Wrath

The city of Devapura burned. Its once-proud spires, gilded with the glory of an ancient civilization, now crumbled under the relentless assault of the demon horde. The sky, once a tapestry of soft blues and golds, was now an infernal shade of crimson, thick with smoke and the scent of charred flesh. Fires raged in the streets, casting flickering shadows upon the blood-slicked stones.

Screams of the dying echoed through the city, blending with the clash of steel and the guttural roars of monstrous warriors. The demon soldiers moved with unrelenting cruelty, their twisted forms tearing through the last defenders like wolves among sheep. Towers collapsed, streets cracked, and rivers of blood flowed freely, feeding the insatiable hunger of war.

At the heart of the devastation stood Rikash, the Demon Lord. Clad in blackened armor forged from the depths of the abyss, his massive frame loomed over the battlefield like a harbinger of doom. His crimson eyes burned with merciless intent, his presence alone enough to break the resolve of even the bravest warriors. His colossal blade dripped with the blood of countless fallen, a testament to his unparalleled might.

"Let this be a lesson to those who defy me!" Rikash's voice thundered, rolling across the battlefield like an apocalyptic decree.

His soldiers roared in triumph, their howls blending into a cacophony of bloodlust. The city, once a beacon of culture and resilience, had fallen under his wrath, its people reduced to cinders and corpses.

And yet, even in the heart of his conquest, something within Rikash stirred. A shadow of doubt, a whisper of hesitation. A foreign presence gnawed at the edges of his consciousness, tugging at the fabric of his being. The fire in his vision flickered, dimming, and the weight of his weapon grew unbearable in his grasp. His breath hitched, his body trembling as an unseen force clawed at his mind.

Then, everything went dark.

When his eyes reopened, they were no longer crimson but a soft amber. The towering menace of the Demon Lord was gone, replaced by something altogether different. Kael had emerged.

The battlefield was no longer a place of triumph but of horror. Kael's breath came in ragged gasps as he took in the carnage. Limbs lay scattered, the streets ran red, and the air was thick with the acrid stench of death. His heart pounded, his pulse hammering in his ears.

"No..." he whispered, his voice trembling.

A child's cry cut through the haze of destruction. Kael turned sharply, his amber eyes locking onto a small figure huddled beneath the remains of a collapsed wall. The child's tiny frame shook with sobs, her tear-streaked face smeared with soot and blood. Without thinking, Kael rushed forward, his hands trembling as he lifted the child into his arms.

"Shh, you're safe now," he murmured, though he knew it was a lie.

The child clung to him, burying her face into his chest, her sobs muffled against the fabric of his cloak. Around him, the wounded groaned, their bodies broken and battered. Kael's hands shook as he reached for the nearest victim, a soldier barely clinging to life. He pressed his palms against the man's wounds, summoning what little magic he could to mend torn flesh and shattered bones. The soldier's pain eased, but the light in his eyes dimmed all the same.

Guilt surged through Kael like a knife to the gut. He had done this. His other half—the demon within—had unleashed this horror upon the world. And now, he was left to pick up the pieces of his own destruction.

A shadow loomed over him. Kael turned swiftly, his breath catching as he met the gaze of a young woman, her face streaked with blood and ash. Her eyes, filled with a mixture of terror and fury, locked onto his.

"Demon," she spat, her voice laced with venom. "You did this."

Kael flinched. He wanted to deny it, to claim he was different from the monster who had razed this city to the ground. But the truth weighed on his soul like a mountain.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, though he knew no apology would ever be enough.

The woman hesitated, her gaze flickering to the child in his arms. Conflict waged war in her expression—hatred, grief, confusion. Finally, she turned away, vanishing into the ruins without another word.

Kael swallowed hard, the weight of his existence pressing down on him. He had to leave. The people of Devapura would never see him as anything but a monster, and perhaps they were right to. But before he disappeared into the shadows, he would do what he could to heal, to mend, to atone.

Even if the city never forgave him, even if he never forgave himself.