ForLifeBetter

Kael Draven, once known as the Demon General of the Crimson Abyss, was a living calamity who commanded fire and steel in a shattered continent torn by war. After sacrificing himself to seal an ancient evil, he is reincarnated 300 years later in a new era—one of peace, invention, and diplomacy.

He is born into the low-ranking noble Thorne family, widely scorned for their past cowardice and lack of power. Kael intends to live quietly, perhaps even learn to garden.

But peace has made the world weak.

When an enemy kingdom breaks a fragile truce, and his own family becomes political bait in a power struggle, Kael must decide:

Will he suppress his monstrous past—or unleash it to protect his new life?

Ashes of the Demon General

Callan fought against the tide of darkness, his sword slashing through the shadows that swarmed him. But they were too many. Each time he struck one down, another seemed to take its place.

He could feel the weight of the demon lord's presence pressing in on him, suffocating him. It wasn't just power—it was a memory. A reminder of the war he had fought, the battles he had won. The lives he had taken.

"You cannot win," the demon lord's voice boomed in his mind. "Not against the darkness you have invited into your soul."

Callan's mind flashed to the sword, to the Book of Ten Names. The curse.

He had thought he had escaped it. But now, in the depths of the Hollow, it seemed that the demon lord was right. The past had come back to claim him.

Ren shouted something, but Callan didn't hear it over the deafening roar in his ears. He couldn't think. He couldn't move. His sword felt heavier with every swing.

But then, something broke through the fog in his mind.

Callan's grip tightened around the hilt, and for the first time in years, he let go of the fear, of the curse, of the memories that had haunted him. The sword was not just a weapon—it was a part of him.

With a roar, Callan swung the blade with all his might.

The demon lord's eyes flared, and for a moment, there was a flicker of uncertainty in its gaze.

"You—" it hissed, as if struggling to comprehend what had just happened. "No…"

The sword burned with a light that was not of this world. Callan didn't hesitate. He pressed the advantage, his body moving like a machine, as if the sword were guiding him, urging him forward.

With one final, brutal strike, the blade cut through the demon lord's form. But instead of blood, there was only shadow, dissolving into the air.

The demon lord let out a final scream—a scream that rattled the very earth.

Callan collapsed to his knees, panting, the weight of the battle lifting from his shoulders. The sword still hummed in his hands, but the feeling was different now—lighter, almost peaceful.

Ren approached cautiously, wiping the sweat from his brow. "I didn't think you had it in you."

"I didn't either," Callan muttered, his voice hoarse. "But I'm not done yet."

The Return of the Demon General