His fist slammed into Killian's face, each strike numbing him further. The strings in his head rang in pain, and his vision blurred. He choked on his blood as he murmured. "Come on…hit me harder…let me leave alive… and you'll… you'll pay for this, I swear." As his soul sank in defeat.
The upper demon froze his fist in midair, "Tsk… You better get the artifacts before tomorrow." He spat and then walked off with his comrades.
"How pathetic! These lower demons reek. Let's go soak in a hot bath." They laughed.
Killian lay at the edge of the mountains, his blurred vision gazed at the world within the walls. His numb face slowly succumbed to the pain as endless tears streamed down his cheeks. Despite his deficiency, he could visualize the circuit world perfectly.
The cold and thick air brushed against his skin as the sun continuously rose above the clouds within the circuit, leaving him in the eternal shadow of the dark moon.
Laughter echoed through the mountains, and his jaw began to hurt.
He'd been waiting long enough—a proper beating to knock himself in this game.
"My journey begins now. I will not be anyone's pawn. I will beat you at this game of war, Sovereignty."
He didn't just want to survive; he wanted them all on their knees. That was his true strength.
He stood tall, his legs trembling, and gazed at the circuit.
"No matter what, I will stand above you all."
Killian took a deep sigh and proceeded to make his way down the mountains. His muscles gave in as he strolled down the mountains, each step felt like a punch in the guts.
Old Demon approached, his legs shivering with each step but holding them with precision. "Killian, you again? See what they did to you, my boy?" He gently placed his hand on Killian's shoulder.
"Tsk… Can you get it off me, Old Demon?"
Old Demon grinned at him, his eyes squeezing, "You know I believe in you, boy. You are different."
"Hurry up and die with your prophecies," Killian said and proceeded to walk.
"But I have food." Killian turned with sparkly eyes and hurried to him. "My master gave me some food and water. Come, eat with me." Old Demon gestured to his hut.
"This is a feast!" Killian's eyes widened at the sight of the pancakes. He dropped on the floor and stuffed his mouth. His jaw screamed in pain, but he paid no mind. All he could think about was the softness as the pancakes swiftly melted on his tongue.
"Eat up, boy," Old Demon slipped into his prophetic mode. "Listen to me, Killian, you are unique. Don't fall for Sovereignty ideology—you can go beyond this world."
He went on and on… Killian just wanted to finish the pancakes and leave.
Old Demon leaned over and whispered, "Let me tell you something my master told me, 'There are enforcers aside the demon lords that reside midair.' Take me with you, and together, we will them on their knees."
Killian's jaw began to hurt intensively. He took the water and drank it, "Ha, clean water." He smiled, stretching his body.
He stood on his feet, overlooking the pain, and held his waist. "No, Old Demon, I am conquering the world alone. Awakened or not."
Old Demon walked closer. "Does not being awakened trouble you?"
Killian walked away, waving at him over his shoulder. "I am not awakened as well, you know?" He yelled.
With his stomach filled, he began to stroll to the entrance of the circuit. His fellow lower demons crawled on the floor, hunting insects for a meal.
He smiled, "Not today, folks."
He stood at the border, the lifeless dark moon glowing against his back and the sun scorched within the circuit.
He gazed up at the giant walls as a few demons tried to climb into the circuit.
There was a sudden voice, "Kill, I knew I would find you here."
He tilted his head over, recognizing one of the few demons he was close with, Serg.
"I asked the old demon, and he said I would find you here."
Killian stood motionless with his hands tucked in his pockets, gazing at the sun—completely aware of what Serg was about to say.
"My ink turned black a while ago. I guess controlling my devil mana core wasn't as difficult as I thought." He smiled awkwardly.
"Old Demon thought you might be worried about not being awakened. We believe in you, Killian. It's not exactly unusual, but you just have to give it time. I know you will join me soon enough in the circuit. If anyone can make their devil mana core bow to them, it's you."
Killian remained still, his head tilted toward the sky.
Serg scratched the back of his head. "I will see if I can find your parents and say hi to them for you."
"Like I care."
"Come on. They abandoned you, but they are still your parents."
He paused for a moment, folded his arms across his chest, and began to assure Killian. "Once I find shelter and a stable job, I'll bring you food. Just don't get yourself killed by an upper demon."
Killian pat him on the back, "Take care, Serg. I'll see you soon."
He walked off calmly, waving back at Killian.
"Such a lucky bastard." Killian said.
He wished he didn't care, but it felt like they would all be leaving him behind.
Killian pressed his palm against his wrist, staring at his cursed red ink. The mark of a failure. Most lower demons he knew had at least a flicker of mana in their veins—some turned black after a single kill, others after a dozen. But him? Nothing. As if his very soul had been rejected by the world itself.
He looked deep into the skies, grinned, and shook his head.
Not long after Serg's figure blurred, the circuit's sun began to vanish as the warm moon slowly rose. The beauty and the warmth of the warm moon were breathtaking. Initially, Killian would sit on the ground and stare at it all night, but Not Now.
It was time to head for the mountains. He checked the holy water he had just pickpocketed from Serg and smiled.
—-
For eons, demons waged an unending battle among themselves and against the heavens. Rumor had it that sovereignty—the creator of demons and their world—was the one who forced them on that path, and they all believed it.
As far as they knew, the demon lords—the seven rulers of the world—are determined to win in the war against the heavens, and for that, there's no place for the weak demons.
To separate the strong from the weak, lower demons like Killian were marked with red ink and cast into the Wildlands—a lawless land where survival is the only rule, and where they hunt and are hunted.
Meanwhile, the strong were stained with black ink and resided within the circuit, favored in countless ways, even by nature itself.
It was simple: if your devil mana core deemed you worthy, you turn black and grew stronger. But it cut both ways—the core could've just as easily deem you unworthy if unsatisfied. And it wasn't easily satisfied. Some demons lived their entire lives without ever being deemed worthy.
Both lower and upper demons were granted affinities by their devil mana cores at an early age, but true power remained locked away unless one beared black ink.
For the twelve years of his life, Killian endured the torture alone. No one to turn to—just that helpless kid who could barely hold a conversation. He cried himself to sleep in the woods, doing the upper demon's bidding just to be spared.
This isn't how his life was meant to end—falling at the hands of an enemy? No, no.
—
The moment Killian reached the mountaintop, he took a deep breath. "Every inch of my life has led me to this. It's now or never."
He began to search through the mountains—he needed a perfect weapon at his disposal.
He found it.
[What if none of them shows up?] He shook his head. [Stop overthinking!]
[I've got to survive the Wildlands. Overthinking won't help.]
He took a deep breath.
He gazed up, searching for the right tree to climb. Gripping the holy water tightly, he made sure it wouldn't slip from his grasp. Pain surged through his limbs, but this time, he refused to give up.
Killian's eyes were wide open throughout—he couldn't think of a time to sleep. Crickets chirped endlessly, insects scattered at his gaze, and flies tormented his senses. Lower demons wandered below, searching for food—lonely as always.
[This is bullshit. It will be best to get them the artifact and be free for a day, at least.]
His brain tried to give up. He clenched his eyes shut and shook his head.
[No, no. This is my time. I will survive.]
Procrastination was better off with someone else because, to him, [Not today.]
The sun in the circuit began to appear. Killian imagined the possible cheerful smiles on their faces but shook those thoughts off.
He braced himself and waited for their arrival.
As time passed, his stomach began to rumble, but he wasn't going to back off. He caught a few flies and ate them.
Finally, they arrived holding a few artifacts taken from other lower demons; his target led the other two as usual.
[Touching me will be your greatest mistake.]
His heart pounded faster, and his legs trembled.
Killian slowly poured the holy water on the stick, with his hands shaking but clinging onto the stick. He quietly adjusted himself on the branches, fear lurking in.
[I must kill him before he kills me. I clean one hit… Just one clean hit. You can do this Killian. I've trained for this.]
Immediately the upper demon was within reach. Killian jumped on him with precision. The stick cracked his skull open. His warm blood splashed on Killian's face.
Without hesitation, Killian bolted away. The leaves slapped his face as he fled. The glow of the dark moon blurred his vision, but this is his mountain.
He began to laugh. He laughed uncontrollably. The relief.
"Swoosh."
Killian felt a sudden pain in his leg, his pace slowed, and his relief suddenly became fear.
He was pierced by an arrow; his eyes widened.
"What?" Before he could think, feet were dashing towards him.
"No, no…"
But his body had begun to give up.
His senses wavered.
"Don't give up, damn it." He couldn't just surrender—not after giving himself a purpose… could he?
The pain surged through his body with every step, but he wasn't ready to die yet.
Killian clenched his fist and began to limp away.
The feet neared, but he was out of options. He couldn't hide or flee.
[They could smell my blood.]
He slammed his fist into a tree.
[Is this where it all ends for me?] His eyes drenched in tears.
Killian forced his limbs to move faster, but the pain overwhelmed him. His wound widened, and his clothes became drenched in blood.
Despite his determination, his body gave up—he couldn't take any more steps.
The upper demons reached Killian; he stood there and watched his soul crash. He bowed his head in defeat. Every ounce of faith in him vanished; he was prepared to die.
"You moron, how dare you kill an upper demon?" They said, cracking their fists and walking towards him.
The next thing Killian heard was a knee slamming into one of the upper demon's cheek. His jaw dropped, and his face melted as he watched a kid his age single-handedly beat two upper demons.
Killian wiped his eyes to see if he was living a fantasy.
[Is this a near-death daydream?]
It wasn't, [I'm surely following you home, savior.] Killian thought as he watched the kid fight with sparkly eyes.
[His skills, he's a lower demon, so how?] It suddenly hit him, "Is he the dragon kid on the mountain they spoke of?"
This was unlike anything Killian had ever seen, but he wanted to be strong like the kid.
The kid's moves went beyond raw strength, [he is the dragon kid indeed.]
In no time, the upper demons lay lifeless on the ground.
"You look like you've been chewed and spat out," the kid said, smirking.
Killian's expression darkened. [Does he know me?]
His body remained still as the kid approached. "I think your wounds need some patching up. We'll have to treat them." The kid said and grinned at Killian.
"I am Raiden. How about you?"
Killian's eyes began to dart around. [Did he just ask for my name?]
His lonely self couldn't be happier, so he hurried to answer Raiden. "I…I am Killian. Yeah…Killian," as Killian stared at Raiden—wondering whether he wanted to be his friend—yet he felt uneasy about this.
"Nice to meet you, Killian," Raiden offered a handshake, but Killian's hand recoiled the moment it touched his.
[He helped me, but he can't be trusted, can he?] Killian shook his head.
Raiden glanced at Killian with a smile on his face.
"Let's get your leg patched up." He said and bent his shoulder for Killian. Yet, Killian declined, limping on his swollen leg as Raiden led the way.
Endless questions ran through his brain. [Who is he? How can a kid do this? Am I being tricked?]