Chapter 22: Draven is a Relic of the Past, I shape the Future

In the courtyard of the restored fortress, over 1,500 demon soldiers stood, their monstrous forms shifting uneasily as a low murmur spread through their ranks. The rumors of a new demon lord—a human, no less—had stirred disbelief and outrage among them.

They had come not just to serve but to see for themselves if the whispers were true.

Lilithar moved through the crowd, her sharp voice barking commands to silence the dissenters.

"Enough! Hold your tongues! You are about to stand before your lord!" Despite her efforts, the rumbling discontent refused to die down entirely.

Inside the fortress, Xender prepared himself for his grand entrance. Standing before a tall mirror, he inspected his new attire: sleek black boots, tailored black trousers, a crisp black shirt paired with a tie, and a long, glossy coat that trailed behind him as he walked.

Every piece fit perfectly, exuding both authority and menace.

He turned slightly, smirking as he admired the reflection.

"Perfect," he said, his voice laced with satisfaction. "What do you think, Zephyra?"

Zephyra, standing nearby, couldn't suppress her awe. She had never seen anything like the otherworldly outfit, its sharp lines and shimmering fabric radiating an aura of dominance. Her cheeks turned a faint shade of crimson as she struggled to maintain her composure.

"You look... magnificent, my lord," she replied softly.

"Of course, I do," Xender said, his tone dripping with confidence.

"It's time to meet my army."

Zephyra followed closely as Xender strode out of the room, his boots echoing ominously against the polished floors. As they descended the stairs to the courtyard, Zephyra found herself glancing at him, her heart beating faster.

"What's wrong with me? Why am I so drawn to him?" she wondered, her face growing warmer with every step.

When they reached the courtyard, Lilithar stepped forward, her voice booming.

"Silence! You are in the presence of our lord!"

The demons turned to face the raised platform where Xender now stood, flanked by Lilithar and Zephyra. A wave of murmurs erupted.

"What is this? A human?!"

"Where is the true demon lord?"

"This can't be our ruler!"

Xender smirked, his crimson eyes glinting with malice. He stepped forward, releasing a suffocating wave of dark aura that rolled over the crowd like a tidal wave. The air grew heavy, and even the most defiant demons felt their knees buckle under the crushing pressure.

"Enough," Xender's voice boomed, sharp and commanding. He gazed out over the sea of demons, his tone low and deadly as he began to speak.

"Demons of the Dark Forest, hear me. You question my rule because I am human? Because I am not the lord you have worshipped in whispers for centuries? Let me tell you something—Draven, your so-called demon lord, was nothing but a relic of the past. He was weak, stagnant, dreaming in his eternal slumber while the world changed around him.

I killed him.

Yes, you heard me. I drained the life from his pathetic, slumbering form. And do you know why? Because he was not fit to rule. He clung to old ideals, old grudges. But I am not like him. I do not cling to the past—I shape the future.

You see, I am not here to live in the shadows like you have for centuries. Hiding in ruins, scavenging for scraps, whispering prayers to a lord who failed you. I am here to lead you into a new age—a darker age. An age where demons will no longer cower before humans but will rise above them. We will take their cities, burn their kingdoms, and turn their holy lands into ash.

Under my rule, we will not just conquer the human world; we will own it. They will worship us, fear us, and serve us. I will be your ruler, your king, your lord… your god.

Now, I give you a choice. Join me, and together we will cast this world into eternal darkness. Or go back to hiding, living like worms in the dirt, and wait for death to find you. Choose wisely."

As his words echoed through the courtyard, a chilling silence followed. The air was thick with the weight of his presence. The demons stared at him, their monstrous faces unreadable, until one by one, they began to kneel.

The massive demon who had spoken earlier dropped to his knees, his head bowed low.

"My lord," he whispered.

It spread like wildfire. Every demon, from the smallest imp to the largest beast, knelt before Xender. Their fear and awe were palpable, their allegiance unquestionable.

Xender surveyed them with a cold, satisfied smile.

"Good," he said, his voice cutting through the silence.

"You made the right choice. Now, rise, my army. We have a world to conquer."

The courtyard erupted in a roar of unified voices, their loyalty cemented. Xender stood tall, the shadows seeming to swirl around him as if drawn to his power.

He had done it—he was no longer just a human or a hero. He was their god, their demon lord, and the harbinger of a new era of darkness.

At Alderoth, the four heroes stood at the forefront of a massive army, their faces set with grim determination. Before them, 5,000 knights clad in gleaming armor stood in tight formation, their swords and shields catching the morning light.

Behind them, 1,000 mages in flowing robes held staffs that shimmered with latent energy, their expressions focused as they prepared for the coming battle. To the rear, 200 seasoned adventurers, hired for their unique skills and raw power, readied their weapons, their faces a mix of confidence and apprehension.

Max stepped forward, his voice firm as he addressed the army.

"Everyone, listen up! What we're about to do isn't just another battle—it's the fight for humanity's future. The demon lord Draven must be stopped before he regains his full strength. This will be tough, but we have no choice. For our families, for our people—we march!"

The soldiers erupted in cheers, their battle cries echoing through the camp. Just as the heroes prepared to lead the march, a figure approached from the rear, her movements swift and deliberate.

"Wait!" a voice called out.

The crowd parted, revealing Princess Violet. She wore light armor over her regal dress, her long hair tied back to keep it out of her face. Her presence was commanding, but there was a softness in her eyes that spoke of courage mixed with fear.

Leo blinked in disbelief.

"What the hell...? You're a princess!"

Violet nodded, stepping forward.

"Yes, and as a member of the royal family, it's my duty to be here. I'm the only one who knows the spell capable of putting the demon lord back to sleep."

Mei furrowed her brow.

"But Princess, you told us before that the spell required a sacrifice. Are you saying…?"

Violet shook her head.

"The spell I spoke of earlier does require a sacrifice, but I've discovered another one. It's not as strong—it can't seal him for eternity—but it will put him to sleep for about a month, maybe a little longer. It's called *Somnus Tempora*. It's a binding spell that taps into the lifeforce of the caster, but it doesn't take everything. With proper preparation, I can cast it without dying."

"A month?" Mia frowned, gripping her staff tightly. "That's not long enough to finish the war. What's the plan after that?"

Violet raised her chin.

"A month gives us time to find a permanent solution. If we can weaken him further while he's dormant, we may be able to destroy him for good."

Leo sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Alright, fine. But Princess, listen to me—don't draw attention to yourself. If the demons find out you're royalty and the only one who can cast this spell, they'll target you. Stay back during the battle and wait for the right moment to act."

Violet nodded.

"I understand. I won't jeopardize the mission."

Max, satisfied with the exchange, turned back to the army. He raised his sword high, his voice booming.

"Alright, everyone, no more delays! We march to the dark forest, to face whatever lies ahead. Stay strong, stay focused, and remember—humanity is counting on us!"

With that, the army began to move. The ground trembled under the weight of thousands of marching boots, and the air filled with the sound of clinking armor and murmured prayers.

The forest loomed ahead, its dark canopy casting long shadows that seemed to swallow the sunlight. The heroes led the way, their hearts heavy with the weight of what was to come.

Each of them knew that this march wasn't just a journey—it was the beginning of a battle that would determine the fate of the world.