9. Declaration

Chapter 9: Declaration

Damon sat on the edge of his bed, polishing a small dagger, the cool metal glinting in the light. "Ahh, how blessed I am in this world," he mused, a hollow smile crossing his lips. But suddenly, a shadow crossed his eyes, and with a snarl of frustration, he flung the dagger across the room, where it embedded itself into the wall with a satisfying thunk. 'Once a god, now a mere shadow of my former self. This talent… all of it seems pointless.'

Quiet footsteps approached, almost imperceptible, as if the very air held its breath. "Nero, come in!" Damon commanded, not even glancing towards the door, already knowing who was outside.

The door creaked open, revealing his personal maid, Nero, with a tray clutched in her hands. "Young Lord, your mother prepared this for you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she stepped inside.

Damon glanced at her, his expression indifferent. "Just drop it on the table." As she walked by, Damon couldn't help but scrutinize her—she was different from the other maids. 'Something shines within her.' "What realm are you in, Nero?" he inquired, feigning casualness.

"My lord, I just broke into the Astral Vein realm," she replied, a blush creeping up her cheeks.

His eyes widened in surprise. 'Such a young maid?' Intrigued, he continued probing her for details despite her shy demeanor. "Impressive. Tell my mother I will join her shortly," he said, dismissing her with a wave.

Rising from his bed, Damon dressed with ritualistic care, murmuring mantras for blessings as he donned each piece of clothing. 'Today is important.' As he stepped out of his room, he could feel a palpable shift in the air.

"It's time," Damon declared, striding purposefully toward the grand hall, where curious eyes followed him—maids and butlers, guests and nobles alike. His presence commanded attention, a king in every sense. In the royal seats, his parents, Gerald and Dora, beamed with pride as he approached.

Among the onlookers, a fat boy elbowed his way to the front, sneering as he observed Damon walking with an air of arrogance. "All I see is pride—hardly the aura of a genius," Pyo spat, his greed unmistakable. "I possess more talent than that bastard."

Damon caught Pyo's contemptuous gaze and smiled, a smile that made the boy's blood boil even more.

As Damon reached his parents, he bowed before them—the king and queen of Martlock. Dora rushed down from her seat, enveloping him in her arms. "My child, stand," she beamed, caressing his face.

"Ah, my beautiful mother," Damon replied, a genuine grin forming as he placed his hand over hers.

"Father," he turned to Gerald, "I would like to say a few words to my people." Gerald eyed him warily but nodded, curiosity etched on his face. "It's your day; take the stage!"

Damon ascended the platform, facing the gathered crowd of void people. "You all wonder why it is me, blessed with such talents," he began, his voice ringing out clear. **A gasp rippled through the audience. "You question why it is not you."** He scoffed, reveling in their reactions.

"Even without this talent, I will stand at the pinnacle!" His statement sparked murmurs among the audience. "Arrogance has caused the fall of countless geniuses," someone muttered, scorn coloring their tone. Damon, impervious to their disdain, continued, "I will carve my own path, not hide in shadows like you rats. If I must kill you all to archive my goals, I will do it with a smile."

A tense silence fell over the room. The atmosphere thickened, and people instinctively took a step back. "If I must walk the path of a demon, so be it. The only error was that I was not killed in my mother's womb."

With an effortless motion, he summoned the wind element, commanding it with an authority that sent shivers through the crowd. "This! Is My Era. I shall rule—no, I must rule!" His expression hardened, filled with a seriousness that pierced through his arrogance.

Pyo watched, in awe. "Every word he spoke, he meant it."

"I crave strength; I too want to dominate," he murmured to himself as a fire ignited within him, driven by ambition. He instinctively moved forward, bowing to Damon, his heart pounding with newfound desire.

Suddenly, an elderly figure stepped out of the crowd, a fire of recognition lighting up the atmosphere. "Well said, that's my boy!" The old man's voice boomed, drawing an immediate hush. Heads turned in shock. Thomas Rim— 'the former king of Martlock and one of the Seven Hades of the Demon Continent.'

"Yes, this is your era," Thomas declared, his gaze unwavering as he assessed Damon. "I like your determination. You embody the perfect way of the demon." His eyes studied Damon, sensing the ominous aura pulsating from the gauntlets.

Damon felt a swell of mixed emotions. 'Is he really my grandfather?' As he approached Thomas, passing Pyo, he sensed the dark power that coursed through the old man's veins, an unsettling familiarity wrapping around him.

"Hahaha, that's my boy!" Thomas laughed, releasing an aura that erupted like a shockwave. The pressure bore down on the crowd, most of whom crumbled to their knees, gasping for breath. Only a few remained standing, those strong enough to endure the overwhelming might.

"This boy has he truly not started his path of cultivation?" an expert murmured in disbelief. "Is it his raw strength?" another voice echoed, their eyes locked onto Damon as he stood defiant, despite the weight pressing down on him.

As another burst of power cascaded through the air, Damon's feet sank slightly into the ground, but he refused to falter. **He's testing me…** he realized, pushing through the ever-increasing pressure.

Pyo trembled beneath the weight, watching Damon defiantly struggle against the old man's might. *"See him? He still moves while I kneel!" Desperation surged within him, igniting a fierce determination. "I too shall stand!" he roared, forcing himself upright. " I will not be left behind!"

The sudden outburst caught everyone's attention, and for a brief moment, Thomas's gaze flickered towards Pyo, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. "The greed for power glimmers in that boy's eyes."

"I am proud of the younger generation!" Thomas declared, his voice booming with authority. He turned toward Gerald, saying decisively.

"I shall train those two—my grand son and that fat child. After the celebration, meet me in the Halls of Archives."

As Thomas withdrew, a wave of dizziness hit Damon, nearly causing him to stumble. Pyo rushed to support him, eyes wide with admiration and newfound respect.

The scene left the crowd stunned—those who had doubted Damon now felt a mixture of shame and astonishment. As the celebration continued, a sense of reverence hung in the air for the young lord and his newfound purpose.