I want to be happier than anyone else.
I was honored from birth.
I want to live happily forever.
Devoting oneself to公务 is bothersome and only tires me out.
There are plenty who can do it in my place.
They rather plead with me to play with them.
They say they’ll handle everything themselves.
Not that they mess things up or anything.
So, like, all you need to do is play, right?
Eat delicious food and get close to beautiful children while messing around together.
Even then, there’s never enough time.
Before I know it, the day sets, and soon the sun rises again.
I wanted to have even more fun… but my body couldn’t keep up.
Since when did my body stop keeping up?
No matter how much I enjoy myself, something feels unfulfilled.
Then, suddenly, I start to wonder:
How long will this prosperity continue?
Though I was born with a noble bloodline and innate magical talent, there are great mages everywhere who surpass even me.
Shouldn’t I be able to surpass them if I just try harder? But trying is so troublesome, isn’t it?
Why should I have to try so hard? It’s strange. Can’t I just rule like a god without effort? Why can’t that work?
If I do, it’s not like I’m going to bring about the world’s destruction like some Demon King, right? So why not let me?
I am the mighty High Mage, after all.
Honorable lineage and rightful heir to Faceulan’s throne.
The ancient King Fluirdo, who once ruled the eastern territories, was nothing but incompetent.
Shouldn’t I, as a mage, be far superior to him?
But why can’t I do what he did?
Why can’t my country expand its territory at will or act without constantly checking our neighbors’ attitudes?
It’s strange. Too strange.
“Why is this happening only to me?”
Even though I gained eternal life through a deal with a Great Demon…
What exactly am I?
“Ughhhhh―!”
Ssswiiish!
A black flash cuts through without any warning.
By the time I realize it, chunks of my flesh have been sliced off.
The wound turns pitch black, preventing proper regeneration.
“Why.”
Why am I so powerless?
Why am I so incompetent?
The Great Demon… could he have lied?
“Crying won’t solve anything.”
The man cloaked in darkness shows no tension or fear in his expression or eyes.
He observes me like an object in the landscape.
No matter how much I inflate my size or threaten him by crushing trees with my bare hands…
He doesn’t blink an eye.
Not a single movement of his eyebrows.
He simply swings his obsidian weapon with perfect precision.
By the time I realize he’s swung, several strikes have already landed.
Visible yet sometimes invisible.
Even when seen, reacting is no easy task.
What’s wrong with me?
Why must I be beaten so helplessly by this man?
As my entire body is battered and reduced to rags,
No matter how I try to cover and hide my wounds by inflating my size,
The injuries just keep piling up.
I really feel like I’m going to die.
It hurts too much.
It hurts! It hurts, I tell you!
Why are you doing this to me?!
“UUUGHHHHH!!!”
I want to cry.
I’m already crying.
My bloated body writhes like a spoiled child throwing a tantrum.
While rampaging through the backyard, destroying the garden and forest behind the palace,
The “child” flails desperately, overwhelmed by fear even as it screams.
But no matter what I do,
It seems I pose no threat to him whatsoever.
No matter how fiercely I charge or attack,
He easily evades or counters, cutting into my body.
No matter how many fragments of shattered ground I throw,
Or how many trees I swing and hurl,
Not a single blow lands.
Instead, during these futile attempts, my injuries only grow worse.
It hurts. It hurts so much I feel like I’m losing my mind.
“Are you mocking me?! How dare you mock me?!”
“…….”
The man brushes away the flying debris and dust clouds with a flick of his dark cloak,
And gazes down at me with golden, unwavering eyes.
“How long do you plan to act like a child?”
Am I too young?
Don’t I know enough yet?
Does that even matter?
This isn’t an era where such considerations are made. This world doesn’t work that way.
Rather, children are treated as demons and devils for their immaturity,
Persecuted and oppressed for failing to meet expectations.
This is the fate of children in this age.
At least, that’s how it was for humans.
It’s not true for everyone.
However, the poorer and more desperate the circumstances, the more people treat their children like livestock.
Not every nation is like that.
However, in an era where protectors themselves face threats and oppression,
People are tested in their humanity and resolve.
It’s a cruel and frightening world.
Yet.
“…….”
Why does he cry like this, having enjoyed everything, claiming it’s unfair?
Are these the tears of a pig whose skin is being torn apart?
“Why are you tormenting me?! Don’t you want me to be happy?! Is it that unpleasant?!”
“Haa…”
What incredible self-centeredness.
It’s all about himself.
To make myself happy and content, even if others spill blood, burn alive, or have their bodies torn apart…
Perhaps none of that matters to him.
Are there truly beings in this world who wear the same skin as us, have the same limbs, and still live such monstrous lives?
“Enough.”
All hope is lost.
Rather, was there ever any reason to hope in the first place?
At this point, it’s not stubbornness but plain stupidity.
Though everyone deserves salvation,
…not him.
“It’s all wrong! This shouldn’t happen! Why must I alone suffer like this? Your very existence proves this world is unfair! If there’s a god, this shouldn’t be allowed!”
“That’s exactly right.”
There are many nations and royal families in the world,
But they are the pillars, shields, spears, and swords that support their countries.
That is, in this country, he should have been a father figure.
Though there are examples of parents abandoning, selling, or even eating their children,
When this happens on a family scale, it’s tragic.
But when it happens on a national scale, it becomes this catastrophic.
What if the young king had been a bit more composed?
He might have died a meaningless death in political struggles.
He could have lived an average life, enjoying good fortune or meeting an untimely end.
“Truly, it’s the most unfair thing.”
If we accept causality and predetermined harmony in this world,
And believe nothing in this world is without purpose, then what is the meaning of his existence?
A trial? A bad example? An enemy to overcome?
“Let’s cut this short.”
Most would have given up by now.
Rather than trying to understand someone like him, it would be simpler to eliminate him.
However…
“Abandoning hope doesn’t mean giving up. To begin with, I never had any expectations for you. But if I give up on you here, your existence will reach a point of no return forever.”
So even if it means my own destruction,
I must teach him one thing.
Thoroughly, leaving no room for half-hearted listening or dismissal.
“Therefore.”
The Obsidian Sword dissipates.
The now unarmed Carriel places his foot on the bloated body.
“Urk!”
Though he’s just a small human,
For some reason, his weight feels unbearable pressing down on my body.
It’s as if the entire world is crushing me.
“This time, I’ll show mercy.”
Clenching his fist, he slowly approaches,
Until he reaches my face.
Lowering his stance, he delivers a punch.
KOOOOM!
“?!”
The shockwave spreads throughout my body.
Not only is my whole body being crushed by immense pressure,
But another massive impact follows, like hammering a nail.
Thick layers of skin and muscle burst from the impact.
With no space to explode outward, it bursts internally,
Eventually forcing its way out through newly formed holes.
“Guh!”
KOOOOM! KOOOOM!
His punches land like the stomping of a giant.
Each strike causes the ground to shake, creating earthquake-like tremors.
Why?
Why can’t I shake off even this tiny human?
Is this magic? Could this be magic?
KOOOOM! KOOOOM!
“Khuff! Kehk! Gmaa―.”
KOOOOM! KOOOOM!
Like a craftsman carving a statue with chisel and hammer at regular intervals,
Carriel’s relentless punches drive deeper and deeper.
KOOOOM!
“Guh!”
KOOOOM!
“Khuff! Kruh!”
KOOOOM! KOOOOM! KOOOOM!
Though he’s targeting only a small part of my cheek,
The impact spreads throughout my entire body.
My internal organs are already tearing apart,
And the shockwaves reach every bone and organ.
Gums tear, teeth crack and shatter, falling out in chunks until they’re fractured.
One eyeball bursts halfway out, turning bright red.
Blood gushes out like a fountain from the ruptured areas.
“Urgh!”
KOOOOM! KOOOOM!
There’s no time for screams.
Not even proper wailing escapes.
Violence overrides everything.
“This is.”
KOOOOM!
“What you’ve done casually.”
KOOOOM! KOOOOM! KOOOOM!
The pace quickens.
Yet Carriel’s expression remains calm and composed.
He feels no thrill, no sense of accomplishment, no annoying pleasure from dominating and crushing others.
I’m doing this…
“To teach you a lesson.”
KOOOOM! KOOOOM!
Though you became king at a young age due to cursed circumstances and lacked proper guidance,
How many fools would turn down easy pleasures when constantly encouraged to do so?
In that regard, I regret it.
However, that doesn’t justify anything.
If we start excusing actions based on circumstances, where would we draw the line in this world?
Everything starts seeming reasonable according to individual standards.
Generally speaking, that’s inappropriate.
Relatively speaking, that’s unsuitable.
“Aah! Ah!”
“Silence.”
KOOOOM! KOOOOM!
The impacts grow even stronger.
The ground, which was previously just trembling, now sinks noticeably with each strike.
To begin with, how is it possible for such a small fist to measure and deliver damage to a giant body?
“…”
It’s not impossible.
In fact, this is fundamental.
Since learning the sword techniques of Grandeous,
The essence has always been disrupting and seizing control of an opponent’s center and balance.
Manipulating mana? Disrupting, breaking, or reversing internal mana flows?
These are merely steps toward achieving that goal.
Once you momentarily incapacitate and dismantle your opponent,
Everything afterward unfolds according to your will.
In that sense, this is similar.
Controlling the force and impact applied.
The downward strikes go beyond simple impact,
Channeling the shockwaves through flesh and muscle.
Some penetrate directly, while the residual force spreads efficiently without waste.
Including the direction.
Thus, striking one spot sends shockwaves throughout the body.
The aftershocks even reach the ground below, making it painful but stopping short of devastating physical damage.
This isn’t violence intended to kill.
Punishment through pain.
Rather than striking, it’s pushing away.
But the amount of force used can escalate beyond expectations.
Still, this much is necessary.
Considering his curse-like regenerative abilities, this is quite lenient.
So use existing sword scars to further disrupt his regeneration.
Already this must be excruciatingly painful, but more is demanded.
Thus.
“Uh, ugh…”
As endless beatings and continuous pain overwhelm his mind,
Just as his consciousness begins to fade,
Carriel delivers the final blow,
Making contact with his spirit.
“…”
This isn’t to understand the opponent by tracing their memories.
It’s the opposite.
Thus,
The childish king and the supposed “Great Demon” within him,
Suddenly find themselves pulled into an unknown space.
“Uh?”
Nothing existed.
Only a pale void stretched endlessly.
And the Great Demon?
Wasn’t singular.
Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of bizarre forms filled the space.
The young sorcerer king, sitting like he’d fallen on his bottom, experienced incomprehensible chills and terror at the sight.
‘This…’
Were these inside my body?
So many? All of them?
How is that possible?
The Great Demon wasn’t singular?
Chaos ensues.
Screams and cries erupt.
Wails become songs.
Laughter bursts forth in various forms.
It’s like being thrown into the very depths of hell.
If this isn’t hell, then where is?
No, it’s certain.
With so many demons here, if this isn’t hell, then what is?
“Even this is but a fraction.”
The king shuddered involuntarily at the voice.
A sound he never wanted to hear again.
“And each of these represents one of your possible futures.”
“My… future? That this honorable being could become such pitiful, disgusting… these things?!”
“You misunderstand.”
Carriel corrected him.
“It’s not that you’ll become one of these. You already are one with them. They represent what you truly are.”
“It can’t be!”
Spitting hatred, he screams in defiance.
The many demons laugh in agreement.
Then they mock and curse the dark youth en masse.
Despite appearing utterly alone and lonely,
“Where do you think demons come from?”
“Demons? They’re… in hell, right?”
“Were they born there? Did they originate there?”
“How should I know that?!”
“Hmm. Guess not. No need for mysteries here.”
Using questions to enlighten has its place.
But not for this deficient child escaping reality.
“…This explanation suits better.”
“Demons are both our past and future.”
More precisely,
“All sentient beings’ past and future.”
“??”
“Religious doctrines make it obvious, don’t they? Though you were probably too busy playing to notice.”
Born and dying, those who don’t ascend to heaven fall into the abyss.
Those who aren’t reborn sink to the lowest depths.
Since the world began,
How many lives have been born and passed away?
Probably an incalculable number.
Nor is there any need to limit it to humans.
Adding non-human entities,
Counting itself might become meaningless.
“When we’re born, the first things we obtain are our bodies and selves. That’s our qualification and privilege.”
But demons,
Lack both body and self.
So they desperately try to form them somehow.
Individually or collectively.
When they feel even that’s insufficient,
They rely on something outside themselves.
That’s why they need infamy, others’ fear and attention.
In short, belief.
Their fear creates belief in me,
Highlighting me more clearly.
I don’t exist, yet they believe in me, thus I exist through them.
They sustain me.
That’s why demons curse.
They curse those who possess selves without effort.
Evil spirits similarly hate the living.
“You weren’t meant to be used by them in the first place.”
Nor were they meant to use you,
Or take over your body.
“They dwell in your vain desires, attachments, arrogance, pride, anxieties, fears, delusions that can’t be filled, and greed. But fundamentally, they’re not demons or anything else. They’re entirely yours. Now. Not yesterday, but now.”
Even those born human,
Can mutate into beings more grotesque and wicked than demons.
Common tales claim such individuals make even demons weep.
But that’s incorrect.
Because.
They are the demons.
Future beings destined for eternal damnation in hell.
The only reason they aren’t considered demons now is the blessing of being alive.
Even so,
Isn’t it natural for the living to act demonically sometimes?
“If what you say is true… Are demons not in hell then? I know demons are trivial, but what about Great Demons? Aren’t they different?”
“Yes, they’re there. Always have been, always will be.”
“What do you mean by that?!”
“You’re missing the point. I’m saying both. Need I explain further? Let’s put it this way: There are those who professionally embody demons, and there are real demons. Are they different?”
Who decided demons originate in hell?
It’s written in scriptures and doctrines… but who told them that?
Irene never explicitly detailed demons’ origins, though she mentioned the fallen star among demons’ kings as a metaphor for testing.
Besides,
Who knows about the saints and sages before Irene?
Kings are special.
Especially Demon Kings among demons.
But we can’t conclude they’re the first.
And.
The world has continued unbroken since ancient times.
It may be a concept,
Perhaps a fantasy or nightmare,
But…
“Aren’t you the ones who descend into hell?”
And we call such beings…
“Demons.”
Just as flowing rivers eventually reach the sea.
Isn’t it the natural conclusion?
If you’re aware of the concept of hell, isn’t ignoring this connection stranger?
Why does he react with such surprise?
“Does this mean… I’ll… fall into the netherworld, into hell?”
“We call you human because you were born human.”
Then what should we call those who fall into hell?
“Demons are both a concept and those who willingly embrace it. As I’ve said, both.”
And hell is your dwelling place.
It’s truly a hopeless world.
I saw the Demon Realm through her kindness.
The Demon King once said,
“To see hell, first tour the Demon Realm. This is the entrance to hell.”
I have seen.
And now…
“I’ll show you too.”
Whether it becomes a lesson or despair,
Experience it firsthand.
“Eh, eh? Don’t come any closer…!”
Though he’s taken only a few steps,
Somehow Carriel is already nearby, grabbing the sorcerer king by the head.
“What are you doing?! No! Stop! Let go―!”
The white world and the black youth holding his head disappear instantly.
Finally, the gates of hell open.
Before the young sorcerer king’s eyes,
An indescribable hell unfolds,
Overwhelming despair completely engulfs his mind and body.
Certainly once esteemed,
The young sorcerer king
Became utterly insignificant in that instant.
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