Chapter 51: The Demon God (End)
{Was that all you need to ask, my lord?} the Wraith King inquired, his voice a low, echoing rumble, respectful but ready for dismissal.
Lucian ran his hand through his ashen white hair. The shock of the Fourth Protagonist being the reincarnation of his only loyal son, the King of Wrath, still reverberated through him, but the confusion was quickly being replaced by clarity. The truth, however horrific and ironic, had provided the final piece of the puzzle. Now, he knew exactly what he needed to do, and his analytical mind, honed by three lifetimes of gaming strategy and survival, immediately proceeded to create a plan.
"Yes, that's all I need for now. Thank you, Wraith King. Thank you truly," Lucian said, giving a curt, emotionless nod. He was grateful for the information, but the sheer weight of the betrayal and the knowledge of his own fatherly failings as the Demon God left him cold.
He let out a short, hollow laugh. "Hah, why the hell am I always surrounded by crazy people? At least Seoryeon was the most normal person I ever met."
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Lucian paused, the memory of Seoryeon—the villainess of his third life—a painful contrast to the chaos and hypocrisy that defined his existence. He still remembered how she was the most grounded person in the Murim world during his third life as an extra, a demonic cultivator character named Geomma Seonin in the novel The Murim Chronicles of the Heavenly Swordsman.
She was the Queen of Northern Sea Palace, brutally called the Silver Snow Witch by the so-called Orthodox martial artists. He remembered her as a kind person, understanding, and empathetic. She treated him, an exiled figure and a demonic cultivator, with respect and fairness, never judging his actions but judging his intent.
It was truly ironic that this kind, rational woman was the major villainess of that novel, while the righteous heroes were celebrated. Lucian had hated those Orthodox bastards who called her a 'Witch,' acting as if they were morally superior. In all honesty, he had found them to be a bunch of hypocrites, full of self-importance and hidden corruption. They were the ones who would smile to your face while plotting your downfall, the ones who would break their own 'sacred' laws the moment it benefited them.
He knew their kind well. They were worse than simple villains; they were covert narcissists, hiding their enormous ego and hunger for control behind the mask of virtue. They weren't better than the Demons or the Evil Gods; they were just better at lying.
Lucian had started hating "righteous people" with a burning, absolute passion when he became Seonin, especially after he died on his second life and realized that the so-called 'heroes' of the Lumina Empire were just as corrupt as the demons they fought. They would sell their souls for power, then preach about holiness. The hypocrisy was worse than the crime itself.
This internal conviction strengthened his resolve: his path would be one of absolute honesty, even if that honesty was driven by absolute vengeance. No more fake heroes. No more righteous masks.
Lucian mentally checked off the first phase of his strategy. He needed to get out of the Lumina Empire and move to where the real power fragments and threats lay—the setting of the second game. The only way to do that and ensure he wasn't chased by the full might of the empire was to engineer his own spectacular exile.
'I should start proceeding to my plans,' he thought, his gaze hardening. 'I need many plans and contingencies too. Hmm, yeah, I need to also kill the Emperor's brother, the one who made me exiled in my second life in this Empire, The Lumina Empire.'
He let out a sigh and looked at the ceiling again. He felt the emptiness again, the hollow heart left after he lost Seoryeon.
'Even though my heart is still hollow and empty after I lost Seoryeon, I don't forget grudges. After all, that bastard, the Emperor and his brother, exiled me,' he recalled. The Lumina royal family was a twisted mirror of his own cursed bloodline—a big joke, just like his family on Earth and his children in Pandemonium.
He was actually glad they all died after he was exiled and stayed in the Holy Monolith Empire, where the third game took place. It was a deserved ending for their hypocrisy and ineptitude. Though he was sad that was the reason Silvie became so obsessed with him and became a yandere, just like Vennie.
He mused over the twisted logic that had driven his previous love interest insane. 'Well, after your family and your empire was conquered by none other than your own uncle, whom you thought was a good person, and also know that he framed up your own ex-fiancé, and the one who saved her when she nearly died by the hands of the final boss of the first game, and was also too late to defend him because you were put in a coma… yeah, anyone would be mad because of that.'
His current goal was not madness, but surgical, clean revenge to free himself for the larger, cosmic war.
Lucian stood and looked at the window, his deep black eyes held no emotion and no comfort nor care. "Hah, what should I do right? I already have a plan. After killing the Emperor's brother, I know I will be arrested. But before that, I will show the Emperor—through dreams—how will I torture his brother so i can ensure my exile. I will let his body be eaten by those hybrids those dark mages created. The Emperor's brother is secretly working with the same dark mages that created those monstrous cross-breeds. Ironic, isn't it, that his own creations will be the ones who eat and kill him."
The Wraith King, ever the pragmatic advisor, spoke: {I see. If that's your plan, my lord, shouldn't you already be starting it?}
"Nope," Lucian replied, the coldness in his voice intensifying. "I need to say goodbyes to Silvie first and tell her all my plans—the necessary ones, anyway. And then I will wait until the final arc of the story reaches this empire. But this time, I will change the end of the Lumina Empire."
His plan for the empire was simple: ruin the Emperor's brother's schemes from the shadows, ensuring that while the empire suffers, it doesn't fall completely—at least not yet, and certainly not to the villains.
"Instead of letting the Emperor's brother do what he wants—which is hand the empire over to the Evil God's cult—I will work in the shadows and ruin his plans. I can't wait to see him realize that the reason for ruining his plans with the Dark Mages and Evil God's Cult is all along me, and realizing I was five steps ahead of their plan."
He would be exiled, escaping the immediate political backlash, but his presence would remain like a ghost in the Lumina Imperial Palace.
Once the exile was complete, the main objective would begin.
"After I'm exiled, I will proceed to go to the Paradisia Island where the second game was held. But not because of the original plot of the game. I need to find the Demon God Cult."
This was the key. He needed information and power, and the cult that revered his former self was the only logical place to find both.
"I need all-in-all the lack of information about the Demon God. I need to know how they exist, who started them, and most importantly, I need their help."
The help wasn't military; it was metaphysical.
"Their help is needed to devour the Evil Gods who have my fragments and to search for The Man Cloaked in Black."
The Wraith King provided context to this decision. {My lord, your fragments are not merely pieces of power. They are echoes of the primordial concepts you embodied: End, Restoration, Destruction, and Void. The Evil Gods—the Defiers from the Judgement Day—managed to steal and bind some of these fragments when you were scattered. This is why they are so powerful now, and why the Loyalist Gods have struggled to contain them.}
Lucian nodded, eyes gleaming with predatory focus. "Exactly. They didn't just absorb my power; they absorbed the concept of End and Destruction. The Demon God Cult, however, operates outside the established divine and demonic hierarchies. They are devoted to the original, pure state of the Demon God. They would know the hidden rituals, the secret locations, and the methods to properly re-integrate those fragments back into my soul, rather than just crudely absorbing them."
{The Cult exists for this exact purpose, my lord,} the Wraith King confirmed. {They are a scattered, persecuted minority, but they hold the keys to the primordial knowledge. They know the difference between the true Demon God and the propaganda put forth by the Allfather's Loyalists.}
Lucian needed their knowledge to track down and consume the Evil Gods who held his scattered essence. Every Evil God he devoured would make him less of a weak human reincarnation and more of the Primordial Monarch he truly was.
Then there was the man who had initiated everything.
"And The Man Cloaked in Black. He called me his other half and possessed Seoryeon's amulet and gave it to me by giving to you Wraith King," Lucian mused aloud. "The amulet was a gift from Seonin—me, in my third life. That means he has a link to that timeline, a power to cross dimensions, or is an entity of similar or greater power to the original Demon God and Goddess. He is the ultimate unknown variable."
"The Cult's knowledge, especially about trans-dimensional entities, will be necessary to understand if he is an ally, a threat, or another fragment of my own shattered consciousness trying to guide me. Paradisia Island is the nexus where all these threads—Evil Gods, fragments, and occult knowledge—meet. That is where I will go."
The planning was done. The immediate path was set: Exile and Revenge, followed by Devouring and Discovery.
For the first time since he was brought back here, Lucian smiled. It wasn't a normal smile—it was a wide, terrifying curve of the lips, devoid of warmth or sanity, a physical manifestation of a being whose soul was defined by End and Destruction. It was the smile of a man with absolute, chilling killing intent.
The intensity of that smile was so profound that even the Wraith King, who was not a demigod as Lucian still believed, but a fully-fledged, millennia-old Primordial King and the strongest of the Four Heavenly Kings, felt true fear for the first time in his existence. The King of Wraiths—the master of shadows, death, and terror—was genuinely terrified of the sheer, raw power radiating from his lord's reborn soul. It was the Demon God's power, unleashed not by fury, but by cold, calculated glee.
Then Lucian spoke, his voice dropping to a seductive, soft murmur, and as he did, his deep black eyes turned, not just dark, but a silhouette of crimson red, like a star bleeding into the void.
"I can't wait seeing him suffer and begging in front of me to let him die. That's the ending he deserves."
Lucian's gaze returned to the window, the crimson receding slightly, leaving behind the blackness of the void. His path was vengeance. His motive was restoration. His destiny was absolute End.