Betrayed By Heaven, I Became The Demon Lord
Chapter 0: The Day The Hero Quit
The sky was an extraordinary canvas, ablaze with a chaotic explosion of color-vivid, fiery reds bled into profound golds, creating a scene that was as breathtaking as it was horrific. This was no quaint metaphorical description. The heavens themselves had ignited, waging a fiery war that reflected the anger and malevolence of those who wielded power over the mortal realm. Aurelia's grand capital, which was once a shining emblem of light, hope, and unwavering faith, now lay languishing beneath the oppressive weight of divine flames, a city ensnared in the inescapable geometry of celestial judgment-one that seemed both deliberate and cruel.
I found myself standing in front of the grand cathedral, a monumental structure that had served as a beacon of hope for countless souls. Yet on this day, it was being consumed from within by the ferocious fires unleashed by the very gods I had once revered. Ash fell from the sky like soft, mournful snowflakes, but each one was imbued with a heavy burden-filled with accusations and unspoken truths that hung in the air like an ominous cloud. With each inhalation, I breathed in the acrid smoke that suffocated the very streets upon which I had walked and fought it carried with it the bitter sting of betrayal-an essence that would forever taint my soul.
Clutching my sword-a once-resplendent divine instrument entrusted to me by the very hands of Heaven-felt like holding a double-edged blade. Its gleaming surface was tarnished now, dripping not with the honor of righteous battles fought, but with the blood of those I had been indoctrinated to protect. The innocent, the loyal, the courageous, and yes, even those whom I had been commanded to view as monsters had all met their fate because of my unwavering belief in a benevolent purpose.
The weight of my sacred oath bore down upon me, yet it was not merely the oppressive weight of duty it was the heavy realization that Heaven itself-the source of illumination and virtue I had devoted my life to uphold-had misled me. Every clash I had engaged in, every life I had taken, had been intricately woven into a tapestry of manipulation, the true motives concealed behind the gleaming façade of divine intervention.
"They told me I fought for justice," I murmured softly, my voice hoarse, slicing through the cacophony of the city's impending collapse. "Yet, they were the puppeteers, pulling the strings and orchestrating the war. Every so-called victory was scripted by them, and every lost life was merely a grim lesson in subservience."
In the midst of the swirling chaos, a crackling voice reverberated from the very sky, a resonance steeped in the unmistakable tone of divinity
"You have been blind, Hero. You fought diligently as we commanded. You executed the tasks necessary for maintaining order. Pain is merely a required instrument in the symphony of harmony."
Above me, I could see them-the gods themselves, surged forth against the backdrop of the fiery horizon, their majestic forms towering and resplendent. Their eyes shone like cold, unyielding stars, embodying beauty to an impossibly high degree, yet within their perfection lay the sharp edge of cruelty. They had played me like a master craftsman, forming me into a legend revered by mortals, while systematically stripping me of my own will and agency.
"You used me," I said, the surge of anger coiling tightly in my chest, simmering just beneath my skin. "Every choice I thought was mine… you orchestrated."
"You misunderstand," one deity intoned, their voice a smooth interplay of authority and silk. "We did not strip you of your agency. Instead, we guided you along a path necessary for the equilibrium of all. The world's peace demands sacrifice, and you, oh Hero, were chosen to be its instrument."
A bitter laugh erupted from my lips, a sound soaked in disdain, reverberating over the consuming fires that surrounded me. "Sacrifice? Or mere convenience for your celestial designs? You call yourselves just, yet you manipulate lives as if they were mere pawns in a game. Did my humanity ever hold significance to you? Or was I simply a tool employed to enforce your distorted vision of perfection?"
Their silence answered me, profound and accusatory, echoing louder than words ever could. In that moment, I understood with startling clarity the legend of the hero I had been-... the songs immortalized about my feats, the praises sung in congregations, the monuments erected in my honor-were nothing but meticulously crafted illusions, sculpted by the divine to fashion history, instruct mortals, and glorify compliance. I had bought into it all, hook, line, and sinker.
The realization crashed over me like an overwhelming tide the last Demon Lord I had vanquished, the final remnant of her kind… she had been safeguarding a realm that Heaven had turned a blind eye to, an uncomfortable truth I had been too blind to perceive. I had been the hammer wielded against her, an unwitting agent of their clandestine cruelty and injustice.
As the flames roared hotter, I thrust my sword deep into the marble floor of the cathedral, allowing the crimson liquid to trickle forth, merging with the ashes and smoke swirling around like a ghostly veil. "If justice is the sole prerogative of those dwelling above," I boldly proclaimed, my voice steady and unwavering, "then I shall redefine it on my own terms." No longer would I remain a puppet dancing to the whims of divine beings. Instead, I vowed that I would no longer bow down to gods who viewed mortals as mere tools in a grander scheme.
The city trembled under the weight of my declaration, fear and awe mixing in the air as I turned my back on the cathedral that had once symbolized the light. The bells tolled mournfully, and voices caught in the tumult screamed my name-hero, traitor, savior, heretic… I embraced each title, knowing that I had become a paradox of their expectations.
As I walked away, stepping into the inferno-painted horizon, the vestiges of something ancient stirred beneath the ashes that danced in the air
"If the gods have forsaken you… will you seize their throne instead?"
I allowed a grim smile to curl at the corners of my lips, masking the tumult of emotions within me. "Indeed, I will carry this out. If the mortal beings of this world seek justice-a true and unadulterated form of justice-then it is what they shall receive, raw and unfiltered, completely unadorned by the deceitful fabrications that you so freely weave."
At that moment, the very heavens above quaked in response to my bold proclamation. The figure they had crafted, the so-called hero born from divine intentions, now lay shattered beneath the insufferable weight of celestial manipulation and twisted ideals. From what remained of that once-noble entity, a new existence began to emerge-one liberated from the constraints of Heaven and the confines of fear, a being resolute in the pursuit of truth and unwavering in its judgments.
"Very well," I murmured softly into the vast emptiness surrounding me, my heart thrumming with the potent mix of apprehension and clarity of purpose. "If it is true that justice rightfully belongs only to mortals… then I shall embrace my role as the harbinger of their reckoning, becoming the terror they truly deserve."
As the first light of dawn broke over the horizon, it did not herald a day of salvation or renewal. Instead, it ushered in the dawn of an inevitable reckoning that would shift the balance of power. The valiant hero had finally been vanquished, and from the depths of his fall, the ominous figure of the Demon Lord emerged, ready to claim the chaotic justice that had long been denied to the world.
I smiled with a grim determination that was both haunting and resolute. "Indeed, I will. If the mortals are truly deserving of justice, then they shall receive it-raw and unfiltered, untainted by the sanctimonious fabrications woven through your lies, and unflinching in its pursuit of truth," I declared, the words echoing with a weight that felt almost palpable in the air around me.
As the timbre of my declaration hung in the atmosphere, the very heavens trembled, a stark reaction to the turmoil that had been ignited within me. The hero, the paragon of virtue and righteousness that the celestial beings had meticulously crafted and nurtured, had succumbed under the crushing burden of divine manipulation. For too long, he had been a puppet, dancing to the whims of forces that sought to control him. But from the ashes of that broken hero-his spirit rent asunder by the deceit of Heaven-a new being emerged, one that was no longer confined by celestial dictates, no longer cowering from the bitter sting of truth, and absolutely unyielding in the face of judgment.
"Very well," I whispered into the abyss that surrounded me, my heart pounding with a tumultuous blend of fear and newfound clarity, each beat resonating with the dawning understanding of my purpose. "If justice is to be the sole province of mortals… then so be it. I shall be the harbinger of their reckoning, the embodiment of the terror they so rightfully deserve."
As the first light of dawn broke across the horizon, it did not herald an era of salvation for the lost and weary souls below. Instead, it ushered in a time of reckoning that would be felt in the very bones of the earth. The once-bright hero had fallen from grace, consumed by the very machinations intended to elevate him. Rising from those shadowed remnants was the figure of the Demon Lord, a being born from shadows and fury, prepared to deliver the harsh justice that had long been denied. The world would tremble at my name, for I was no longer simply an echo of divinity I had transformed into the force that would reshape fate itself.
To be continued...