Dragon King: Throne of Demons and Gods-Chapter 69: Hero From Beneath

The two guild officials were completely confused by what they saw.

Adventurers, lounging like it was a picnic.

One of the officials, a man with greying hair and a thick scarf, narrowed his eyes.

"Is this... the right place?"

His younger partner adjusted his clipboard, blinking at the casual scene before him.

"It matches the coordinates. This is the last dungeon they had taken."

"Then why does it look like they’re waiting for lunch instead of clearing monsters?"

Before either of them could step forward, a voice called out.

"Hey. You guys lost or something?"

Crest approached them with slow, dragging steps, looking more tired than annoyed. His posture was stiff, and his eyes were dull, like someone who hadn’t slept properly in days.

The older staff member turned toward him.

"You’re with the adventurer party, right? This team?"

Crest raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Who’s asking?"

"Guild inspection," the younger one said, flipping his clipboard around to flash a small seal. "We’re here on a follow-up mission. Looking for someone."

Crest let out a tired breath, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Of course you are... figures. I thought you were just curious townsfolk wandering too close."

The older official stepped closer.

"We’re looking for someone in your team. From what we’ve heard, he should be here."

Crest blinked, then frowned.

"Someone? Why?"

The two guild members exchanged a quick glance, like trying to decide how much to say.

Crest’s shoulders tensed a little, his lips tightening.

Then he sighed.

"Wait. Don’t tell me..."

He didn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t need to. The name was already echoing in his mind before he could stop it.

Bel.

He looked away with a grimace.

"Of course it’s about him. Who else would it be."

The younger official tilted his head.

"Ah, glad to see we’re on the same page. So he’s here, right?"

Crest crossed his arms.

"He’s inside. Cleared most of it by now, I’m sure. He should be out in a minute."

"Hm? Wait... What do you mean cleared? I’m not sure to understand, you’re not helping him?!"

"Helping who?" Crest muttered. "He doesn’t need us. None of us could keep up anyway."

The older guild official was frozen for seconds, his eyes twitching. Slowly, a small smile formed at the corner of his mouth.

He glanced at his partner, and the younger man mirrored his expression, nodding subtly.

"Well," the older one murmured, his tone almost amused. "That confirms it."

His partner let out a short breath through his nose.

"A solo dungeon clear and that fast? Yeah. There’s no way he’s normal. He’s definitely a Sacred."

Purple flames illuminated slightly the ice around them as Vezalia spoke.

"Demons," she began. "We are not so different from humans. We also have structure, rules, ambitions. But where humans are absurd enough to allow the weak to rise through politics or lies, we demons... we follow strength, the only undeniable truth."

She stepped lightly across a patch of Eternal Ice, her heels clicking without sound, violet light flickering beneath her feet.

"At the bottom," she said, pointing her umbrella like a conductor, "are the minions. The scouts, the fodder. They roam, they die, they swarm. Their lives are short, their purpose simple: serve. May it be a purpose, a mission, even existing. Existing is also a form of role, you represent your maker as a piece of their will."

Images flickered behind her in the flame. Small, hunched demons racing through forests, and caves. Slimes, demons wolves... Goblins.

"Above them are the guardians of domains. Demons tied to a fragment of our world."

She glanced at the shattered cave. Bel followed her gaze. The dungeon and its boss.

"Guardians," he murmured.

Vezalia smiled.

"Yes. Creatures strong enough to hold territory. Strong enough to defend it. But still only servants to a higher will."

The purple fire pulsed. The temperature dropped.

"There are different kinds of demons. Many, in fact. But only a few rise above. The truly strong. The ones who can create, and control."

She twirled her umbrella and raised one hand high.

"And above all... the Seven candidates. The Demon Lords."

The fire erupted behind her, casting seven shadows across the icy walls. Each looked different, a crowned beast, a skeleton in robe, a humanoid being with strange proportions... all terrifying.

"Each Lord has dominion over a species of demons. They can create, shape, command. They are commanders among demons. And more than anything, they are candidates... To become the Demon King."

Bel’s eyes narrowed.

"Candidates? What? So the demon King doesn’t appear? It’s a competition?"

"Exactly," she said, nodding. "A race. Every Lord wants to be the first to stand above the rest. The true King of our kind. But lately... something changed."

The flames dimmed, becoming smaller, tighter.

"During the last holy war, when demons almost swallowed the land whole, the gods did something reckless."

She stepped closer to Bel. Her shadow danced across the ice.

"They blessed humanity with more than just warriors. They created something that would disturb the balance. They gave them a Special Avatar."

A shimmer of golden light sparkled across the purple fire. Both looked at the light, Vezalia barely holding her disdain.

"A creature of divine essence. Not born, but gifted, so no demon could predict and prevent its appearance. A living miracle."

Bel didn’t speak.

Vezalia continued.

"The Hero."

She said the word like it was a curse.

"The Hero changed the balance. One piece on the board that tilted everything. Suddenly, demons started losing. Territories fell. Lords were eradicated one by one."

She lowered her head slightly.

"And one day, even our King perished... the war ended. Demons were defeated. Because the Hero joined the party."

The flames shrank, flickering like candles.

"But now," she said, lifting her eyes back to Bel, "things are different. A piece hidden from the board fifty years ago has finally moved."

Her voice dipped lower, her eyes glowing faintly.

"The lord of complete annihilation... the Lord Ravager."

She bowed her head deeply.

Bel watched her carefully, his expression shifting to uncertainty.

Vezalia straightened again, slowly, her smile soft.

"Someone said that our dawn would be brought by an imposter walking the land of light. A wolf in a human skin. I’ve waited for her words to come true. And when I saw you... I knew."

Bel blinked. Her words stirred something in him. His brow furrowed.

"She...?"

His voice cut through the stillness like a knife.

He frowned deeper.

"Who’s she?"

Vezalia remained silent, the flicker of the violet flames dancing quietly around her.

Bel narrowed his eyes.

"Who is she?" he asked again. His voice wasn’t angry, but sharper now. He took a step forward.

"The woman from the village. The one with the daggers. It was her, wasn’t it?"

Vezalia tilted her head slightly, watching him with a curious look. Then, she chuckled sweetly.

She lifted her umbrella and swung it over her shoulder like a noble would a fan.

"Tsk, tsk," she said playfully. "Talking about another woman while on a date? How very rude of you."

Then her smile faltered.

Her voice dropped an octave, and she looked away with visible annoyance.

"Especially a woman with such poor taste."

Bel’s eyes twitched.

"So you know her," he said. "You know who she is."

Vezalia sighed, dramatically flipping her umbrella once before spinning on her heel.

"Details, details," she said airily. "You’ll learn in due time. But not now. First, you need to prove something."

She stopped, looking back over her shoulder.

"You are a candidate now, Lord Ravager. A piece on the board. And the throne we seek?"

She pointed upward with her umbrella.

"It’s not some cursed throne in a pit of darkness. It’s the golden one. The one above the world. The one he sent to this world after slaughtering them."

Bel said nothing. But his frown deepened.

"We don’t want to destroy the world, Lord Ravager," Vezalia said, smiling again. "We just want to sit where they sit. And this means... their genocide. The next on the throne must be a demon. As long as you grow stronger, no one among us will stop you."

Bel stared at her.

"You really think I was born to destroy humanity? To be the enemy of everything I’ve lived around?"

He shook his head slowly.

"I’ve seen demons. I’ve seen what you’re capable of. I’m nothing like you."

Vezalia’s smile faded. She observed Bel for seconds, then stepped forward, her boots silent on the ice.

She leaned in slightly, her voice quiet.

"But... you kill to get stronger. You devour for your own gain. Isn’t that exactly what demons do?"

Bel didn’t answer. For the first time, he was really out of comeback.

Vezalia pulled back, her expression thoughtful.

Then, she spoke again, her voice lower.

"People from above call us evil, but that’s only a question of perspective. Demons are not born evil. They are born with a rule. A single truth that defines us. We live by it. We die by it. You think it’s evil because you’re living by your own concept too."

The purple fire dimmed.

"The Lord Devourer eats because to eat is to live. ’Consume what lies before you or be consumed.’"

She gestured with her umbrella.

"The Crimson Judge passes judgment. ’Blood for guilt, silence for innocence.’"

The flames shimmered with faint images, figures bowing, bleeding, burning.

"The Slumbering King doesn’t move, because ironically, it’s only when dreaming that his power is at its fullest. ’Rest is power; the world turns slower when you sleep.’"

The cave darkened further. Her eyes shone.

"We are ruled by our own law. That’s what makes us demons. We don’t lie about it. We don’t apologize."

She pointed her umbrella at him.

"And you, Lord Ravager... you kill to grow. You enter uninvited and eliminate living beings in your path. You kill... but you don’t devour the weak. You only consume what’s worth your power. You too... follow your own law."

She tilted her head.

"From a human’s point of view, you’re more of a monster than any of us."

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