"The Morning After"
Asura awoke with a start, golden eyes flashing open. His body felt heavy, sore in every muscle, yet his pulse beat strong—stronger than before. The faint glow of mana still clung to his skin like embers refusing to fade.
He sat up in bed, stretching his arms with a groan. "Ugh… feels like I wrestled ten ogres in my sleep." Then his system chimed, and the soreness melted into excitement.
Skill Progression:
Martial Demon Arts Lv. 1 → Lv. 6
Sub-styles unlocked: Flow Step, Crushing Palm, Sky Break Kick
EXP Gained (Overnight Processing): +72,000
Asura blinked, then grinned ear-to-ear. "Wait—so I level up even while I'm passed out? That's broken. I'm literally min-maxing in my sleep!"
He jumped to his feet, wobbling slightly, but his energy returned fast. He threw a few mock punches, each one sharper than the last. The air cracked faintly around his fist.
"Yep. Definitely sharper. Guess I'm a martial artist now too."
But before he could test further, the temperature in the room shifted. Heavy. Oppressive. Familiar.
A deep voice rumbled from beyond the chamber doors.
"Asura."
The door swung open without a sound, and the Demon King entered. His towering frame filled the doorway, crimson eyes burning like molten suns. His presence alone pressed on Asura's chest harder than any weight he had ever lifted.
Asura straightened, golden eyes narrowing. "Grandfather…"
The Demon King descended the steps into the chamber, each footfall echoing like a war drum. His gaze locked onto his grandson—not with casual amusement this time, but with a predator's focus.
"You've grown again," he said, voice low and dangerous. "Too quickly. Too recklessly." He paused, the faintest grin tugging at his lips. "I will see for myself what you have become."
Asura's pulse spiked. His fists clenched at his sides, excitement and dread tangling in his gut.
"…A test?" he asked, already knowing the answer.
The Demon King's aura surged, flames erupting faintly around his body as the very stones of the chamber cracked beneath his presence. "A duel. You and I. No more shadows. No more play."
Asura smirked despite the pressure, barefoot sandals scraping against the stone as he slid into a stance. "Heh. Guess my day just got interesting."
The Demon King's laughter rumbled like distant thunder, shaking the walls.
"Come, grandson. Show me the strength that shakes even my throne."
✦ The Opening Exchange – Phase One
The throne room courtyard had been cleared for the duel. Obsidian tiles gleamed under a crimson sky, soldiers and nobles lining the edges, holding their breath. They had never been permitted to watch such a battle—yet today the Demon King himself had decreed it.
The Demon King stood in the center, arms folded, aura smoldering like a sun half-caged. His voice boomed across the silent yard.
"No tricks. No hiding. Show me what you can do without Awakening."
Asura rolled his shoulders, barefoot geta clacking against the stone. His golden eyes gleamed as he gripped his wooden katana, Yamikami no Tsurugi still resting at his hip in its sealed state.
"Heh. Guess we're starting with basics, huh?"
The Demon King moved first. His fist blurred, a shockwave tearing across the ground before it even reached Asura.
BOOM!
Asura darted sideways, the impact cracking the courtyard tiles. Dust shot upward, but he reappeared behind his grandfather in a blink.
"Shadow Step!"
His katana slashed forward, fast and precise. But the Demon King caught the wooden blade in his bare hand. Sparks flew where mana met sheer will.
"Good speed," the King said calmly. Then he tightened his grip. The katana groaned, Asura forced to yank it back before it snapped.
A grin spread across Asura's face. "Guess I'll have to go harder."
The clash turned into a blur of strikes—blade against claw, shockwaves rolling outward as stone shattered beneath their feet. Every time Asura landed a blow, the Demon King parried with ease, his eyes glowing brighter.
Asura's system chimed faintly:
Swordsmanship Lv. 101 → 104
He smirked. "Even fighting you gives me exp. I should duel you every day."
The Demon King's laughter thundered across the yard. "Then try not to die before the second round!"
And with that, the King finally struck in earnest, a palm strike that sent Asura flying across the courtyard, crashing into a pillar.
✦ Phase Two: Martial Demon Arts
Asura staggered up, wiping blood from his lip. His chest heaved, but his grin didn't fade.
"Alright, fine. Let's see how you like this…"
He lowered his stance, golden eyes narrowing as his mana flared. His body moved differently now—not just a swordsman, but fluid, precise, refined.
Ding!
Martial Demon Arts Activated.
His strikes came faster, sharper. Elbows, knees, palms—all flowing like water, breaking like thunder. He wove sword strikes into kicks, parries into throws.
CRASH! He flipped his grandfather over his shoulder, slamming him into the tiles hard enough to quake the courtyard. The crowd gasped.
But the Demon King only rose with a grin, dust swirling around his massive frame. "Better. Much better."
He lunged, claws raking, mana exploding in shockwaves. Asura ducked under, sliding forward with a Crushing Palm to the gut. The blow landed—hard enough to rattle the King's stance.
The crowd erupted in disbelief. A boy was forcing the Demon King to take a step back.
Asura panted, grinning wider. "Told you… I'm cooking with hacks now."
But the King's eyes burned brighter, crimson like magma breaking stone. "You've sharpened your fangs… but your claws are still soft."
He unleashed a surge of aura, the sheer pressure blasting Asura back. For a moment, Asura's knees buckled. His arms trembled.
Then his golden eyes narrowed again. "Guess it's time for Phase Three."
✦ Phase Three: Awakening
The markings crawled across his skin, black and crimson script burning like fire. His horns shimmered, mana crackling violently. The air distorted as if the world itself resisted his transformation.
True Demon Lord Awakening – Incomplete (72%)
State: Active
The audience gasped, some stumbling back under the weight of his aura. Even the nobles felt it pressing into their bones.
Asura's voice deepened slightly, echoing with demonic resonance. "Now… let's try this again."
He vanished.
The Demon King's eyes widened as Asura reappeared behind him in less than a blink, blade coated in obsidian-black liquid.
"Armament Willforce!"
The substance hardened instantly, his katana gleaming with unbreakable sheen. He swung— CRACK! —and the impact sent the Demon King skidding backward across the courtyard, carving trenches in the obsidian floor.
The crowd roared in disbelief. The Demon King, pushed back.
Asura didn't stop. He chained together techniques—Phantom Flux Slash, Sky Break Kick, Demonic Endurance driving him past his limits. His strikes blurred, the courtyard shattering under each step.
Finally, he raised his katana high, markings blazing brighter.
"Awakening Burst—Eclipse Fang!"
A crescent of black fire and lightning roared forth, slamming into the Demon King in a cataclysmic explosion.
BOOOOOOM!
Dust swallowed the courtyard, the shockwave rattling the citadel itself.
Asura collapsed to one knee, panting, his Awakening flickering dangerously. His body trembled, blood dripping down his arm.
"…Did… I get you…?" he rasped.
The dust cleared.
The Demon King stood tall in the center, his armor scorched, his mantle in tatters—but his grin wide and proud. His crimson eyes burned brighter than ever.
"Well done, Asura," he rumbled. "You finally forced me to defend."
Gasps erupted around the court. Even defend—to admit such a thing—was unheard of.
Asura's golden eyes widened, then narrowed in satisfaction. He collapsed onto his back, laughing breathlessly. "Hah… guess that's a win in my book."
The Demon King loomed over him, then crouched down, his grin fading into something rarer—warmth.
"You've grown beyond what even I expected. But this… this is only the beginning."
Asura's grin returned, tired but fierce. "Good. Because I'm not done yet either."
✦ Aftermath of the Duel
The courtyard was still cracked and smoking from the clash, obsidian tiles split like shattered glass. Soldiers, nobles, and courtiers whispered among themselves, voices trembling with disbelief.
At the center of the wreckage, Asura lay sprawled on his back, chest heaving. His golden eyes glowed faintly, his body marked with fading streaks of black script. Even bloodied and exhausted, his grin hadn't left.
Selene rushed forward the moment the Demon King's aura eased, dropping to her knees at Asura's side. "Young master!" Her hands hovered over his chest and arms, checking for burns and fractures. Her violet eyes glistened with equal parts worry and frustration. "You pushed yourself too far again. One day you'll break, and I won't be able to fix you."
Asura chuckled weakly, tilting his head toward her. "Relax… you'll just see me regenerate anyway."
Her lips pressed thin. She dabbed his forehead with a cloth, brushing damp silver hair back. Yet the tenderness in her touch betrayed how badly she'd feared for him.
The Demon King stood over them, tall as a mountain, crimson eyes gleaming like twin suns. The laughter that often followed his battles did not come. Instead, he raised his clawed hand toward the nobles lining the courtyard.
"You all saw it," he rumbled, voice like rolling thunder. "My grandson, eight years of age, stood against me and forced me to defend. His Awakening burns strong. Stronger than any since my own."
The chamber of nobles fell silent, heads bowing lower than ever. None dared question his words, though unease coiled in their hearts.
At the front, the Grand Duke of the Demon Realm stepped forward, his heavy mantle brushing the stone. His wife, the Duchess, followed at his side, her gaze sharp yet calm. Behind them stood their children: Adrian, his jaw clenched tightly, and Alice, who could not hide the awe widening her violet-black eyes.
The Grand Duke's voice carried weight but also a note of reluctant respect. "Remarkable. At eight years old, he sustains his Awakening far longer than most trained soldiers. Even Adrian and Alice…" He paused, glancing at his children. "Even they still falter after four minutes."
Adrian bristled, fists tightening at his side. Alice lowered her eyes but not before Asura caught the flicker of determination there.
The nobles murmured among themselves, embers of both admiration and fear stirring. None of them suspected what truly burned in Asura's veins. To them, this was the Demon Awakening every warrior aspired to master. They could not fathom that this was something rarer—something ancient, whispered of in myths: the True Demon Lord Awakening.
Selene helped Asura sit upright, his geta clacking softly against the stone as he steadied himself. His grin had dulled into a weary smirk, but his golden eyes still shone.
"See?" he murmured, just loud enough for her to hear. "Told you I'd be fine."
Selene sighed, exasperated, but pulled him into her arms anyway, pressing his head gently against her shoulder. "One of these days, young master, you'll give me gray hair."
The Demon King's grin widened as he looked upon them—grandson and guardian, fragile in body but unyielding in spirit. Pride swelled in his chest, pride so fierce it bordered on fire.
"Let it be known," he declared, voice shaking the courtyard walls, "the heir of the Demon Realm is no child to be pitied. He is the dawn of a new age."
The nobles fell to their knees. The Grand Duke bowed low, though his eyes gleamed with silent calculation. Adrian's fists clenched tighter, jealousy twisting in his chest. Alice, however, looked at Asura with quiet wonder.
And Asura, leaning against Selene, smirked faintly to himself. He hadn't just passed his grandfather's test. He had declared himself to the entire realm.
But deep inside, his thoughts whispered a truth no one else knew:
They think this is Demon Awakening. If only they knew… this power isn't ordinary. It's something far beyond.
✦ The Strike Team Moves
Far from the Demon Realm, in the marble halls of Valoria's hidden war chambers, the air was thick with tension. The knights who had survived the report of the first mission stood trembling as they spoke of failure—the Demon King's grandson, only eight years old, had slaughtered nine trained knights and dragged the tenth back alive.
The revelation spread like wildfire. Shock, disbelief, and finally fear.
And then came the King of Valoria's command.
"Send another team." His voice was calm, unhurried, as if he were ordering tea instead of orchestrating war. "Not scouts this time. A blade sharp enough to cut even the Demon King's pride."
Within days, the strike force gathered at the border: armored knights, cloaked mages, and among them—five adventurers, each seasoned in their own way.
The knights stood rigid, their armor polished, discipline drilled into every motion. The mages murmured quietly to one another, glyphs glowing faintly across their staffs. But the adventurers…
They were nothing like the military contingent.
"Wait, wait, wait." A tall man with messy blond hair threw his arms wide, laughing. "You're telling me an eight-year-old kid killed ten knights? Pfft! I can barely get my nephew to sit through dinner without throwing bread at my head, and this one's chopping people in half?"
"Maybe he didn't chop," a shorter man with twin daggers suggested dryly, flicking one blade between his fingers. "Maybe he just… smiled at them and they fell over dead."
"Or maybe," a towering woman with crimson braids interrupted, slinging a massive axe onto her shoulder, "you two are idiots. If even half of that report's true, then this brat isn't just some prince. He's dangerous."
A fourth adventurer—an older man with sharp eyes and a well-worn staff—sighed into his cloak. "We're not here to joke. We're here to test. Laugh all you want now, but when swords are drawn, remember: he's not playing."
And then there was the fifth. Randel.
He leaned lazily against a wagon wheel, flipping through a battered notebook. His dark hair fell into his eyes, his smirk crooked. "You're all missing the point," he said finally. "This isn't about the boy. It's about what he represents. The Demon King's grandson, already being called a genius at eight years old? That shakes kingdoms. That shakes balance." He closed the book with a snap. "Our job is to see if he's myth or monster."
The adventurers fell quiet at that.
Even in their joking, the weight of their mission lingered like a blade at the throat.
The knights muttered prayers, the mages checked their supplies, and the adventurers—still chuckling here and there—tightened straps, checked edges, and fell into step.
They were silly. They were reckless. But when the time came to fight… every one of them would be deadly serious.
And as the strike team crossed the border into demon lands, the red sky loomed above them, pulsing faintly with mana.
Their target: the boy who had killed ten knights.
Their purpose: test him. Break him, if they could.
And far away, in his chamber, Asura's golden eyes opened. For just a moment, his foresight flared—flashes of strangers with weapons, laughter mixing with blood.
A grin tugged at his lips.
"…Round two, huh?"