Apocalypse Baby - Chapter 31: Devils Descent

Suddenly appearing in a different world, it looks like I got caught up in a Hero Summoning. And of course, I’m not the Hero, but it’s another guy……and while being very cautious and scared of the cliche of the cliche-like development, I was thrown into the maelstrom of war……or not.

The Demon Lord? It was defeated a thousand years ago. Hero? He’s just the main actor in a festival. Nobles? They’re kindly taking care of us. The Demon Race? They have good relationships with Humans. Wars? It’s already 800 years since the last one. Monsters? The Guild and Order of Knight are taking care of them. Return to Earth? It is eventually No-Risk.

What I’m planning after being caught up into this? I’m gonna enjoy the life in a different world as much as I want to, go on a cultural exchange and sightseeing, and after experiencing the festival that is only held once every ten years……I shall go home safely.

The other world was――at Peace.

A kind world where the three races, the Spirit World’s Magical Races, the Celestial World’s Divine Races, the Mortal World’s Human Races, they are kind neighbors to each other, with everyone living a peaceful and fulfilling life.

But although I wished to peacefully spend a year before my return, for some reason, the heavyweights of this world keeps gathering around me, and……

The sky was painted gray forever. The light of the sun was restrained. The darkness of the night was deeper than ever. At such a time, he belonged to a class people didn’t even recognize as ’human’. He was at the bottom of the social stratum, a slave. And when his only family was taken away from him... he no longer had a purpose in life. Yet, he clung to life because of his promise. And he set an impossible goal for himself, just so he’d have an excuse to live. When he finally reached a place he never expected to be, in pursuit of a purpose he expected to fail and die miserably trying to fulfill... he awoke to a night that would change his entire life. He was an insignificant fly, a mere speck in the destruction of the Empire. But he... survived. And, despite being a slave, he gained the blessing of a king. Or rather, the curse...

Three rejections. Three shattered dreams. That was Layla’s reality, all because she was different—a half-shifter in a world obsessed with purity. Ostracized, shunned, and finally sold off like a pawn to the most feared ruler alive—the Lycan King. He was ruthless, a king with a graveyard of brides, each one a ghostly reminder of a fate worse than death.Layla loathed him. Hated the way his gaze cold and fathomless, held no warmth for her. Hated how his touch, both thrilling and terrifying, sent an uninvited chill down her spine.---“I hate you!” I screamed, hands clenched so tight my knuckles ached.He sighed, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips, his tone mocking as he closed his book with a deliberate snap. “Stressed, are we?” he asked, strolling toward me, each step reminding me exactly who held the power here.“Lucky for you,” he drawled, rolling up his sleeves as he stopped just inches away, “I know exactly 70 ways to ease those nerves.” His fingers brushed my cheek, a touch that seemed to burn into my skin. “The first… a hug.” His voice dropped to a rough whisper as he leaned in, breath hot against my ear. “And the rest... well, that's 69? what do you say about that?”I swallowed hard, my heart thudding wildly as he tilted his head, waiting for me to react, that insufferable smirk still in place.“What’s the matter, darling?” he murmured, a taunt lingering in his gaze.---A Dangerous ObsessionCan she resist the pull, or will she dance into the flames of her own destruction?A dark dive into obsession, raw need, and the razor’s edge between desire and devastation.---LYCAN KING CASSIANI will tear her apart piece by piece, feeding the wildfire that grips her with each shuddered breath. Like air to flame, I’ll claim every inch, drawing heat from her skin until it sinks into her bones.Her pulse will race under my hands, her breaths shallow, pleading. Her eyes may scream, but her lips will still murmur my name. That first taste of fear will only feed something deeper—a need that burns through her veins, molten and fierce.And just when she’s too far gone to turn back, I’ll twist the knife, giving her the pain she’s learned to crave.She’ll be the moth to my flame, helpless against the very thing that will consume her.

To be is to have a soul. The soul begets a will. Wills accumulate into mysterious psychic forces, weaving secret domains within the fabric of reality.