The forest was not supposed to be this quiet.
Wind usually whispered through the tall trees at night, carrying the sounds of insects and rustling leaves. But tonight, the clearing deep within the woods felt unnaturally still, as if the forest itself were holding its breath.
Moonlight spilled through the branches above, painting the ground in pale silver.
And standing in the middle of that lonely clearing was a boy.
He looked far too young to be out here alone.
His blond hair fell messily across his forehead, catching the moonlight in soft strands of gold. Grey eyes darted nervously between the shadows of the trees, his shoulders tense as though he expected something to jump out at him at any moment.
In his arms was a book.
It looked ancient.
The leather cover was cracked with age, its edges worn and faded. Strange symbols were carved into the spine—symbols the boy could barely recognize.
But the words inside the book had been clear enough.
Summoning ritual.
A protective spirit.
Something that could help him.
Something that could protect him.
The boy hugged the book tighter to his chest.
"…This will work," he whispered nervously.
His voice sounded strangely loud in the silent forest.
For a moment, doubt crept into his mind. Maybe this had been a stupid idea. Maybe he should have stayed home.
But then he remembered why he had come here.
The fear.
The danger.
The feeling of always being alone.
His hands clenched.
"No," he muttered.
He had already come this far.
Slowly, he knelt on the cold forest floor and placed the old book in front of him.
The pages opened easily, as if they had been waiting for him.
The instructions stared back at him.
A summoning circle.
According to the ritual, he only needed to draw the symbols and speak the incantation written on the page. The magic would call a wandering spirit willing to form a temporary contract with the summoner.
Nothing powerful.
Nothing dangerous.
Just a spirit guardian.
The boy reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small piece of chalk.
His hands trembled slightly.
"Just a spirit," he whispered again.
Taking a deep breath, he began drawing the circle.
The chalk scraped quietly against the dirt as he traced the outer ring. Then he carefully copied the strange symbols shown in the book.
Some curved like twisting vines.
Others were sharp and jagged, like lightning frozen in place.
He didn't know what they meant.
But he copied them exactly.
As the circle slowly took shape, the forest grew quieter.
The wind faded.
The insects stopped chirping.
Even the leaves seemed to stop moving.
By the time the boy finished drawing the last symbol, the clearing had fallen into a heavy, unnatural silence.
He stared down at the completed circle.
It looked… right.
At least, he hoped it did.
His grey eyes shifted back to the open page of the book.
There was only one step left.
The incantation.
The words were written in a strange language—ancient and unfamiliar. Even reading them felt strange, like the sounds didn't quite belong in the modern world.
Still, he had practiced saying them.
Quietly, he placed the book in the center of the circle.
Then he took a slow breath.
"…Okay."
The boy began to speak.
The ancient words slipped from his lips one by one, echoing softly in the silent clearing.
For a moment, nothing happened.
The forest remained still.
The moon continued shining above.
The boy exhaled in relief.
Maybe the ritual had failed.
Maybe it wasn't real after all.
Then the ground shook.
A violent crack split through the clearing.
The boy's head snapped up.
"What—?"
Before he could react, the summoning circle burst into crimson light.
The chalk lines ignited like burning embers, glowing bright red against the dark earth. The strange symbols pulsed with energy, far stronger than anything the boy had expected.
Wind exploded outward from the circle.
Cold.
Violent.
The book's pages began flipping wildly as the air twisted around the ritual.
"This isn't right—!"
The boy stumbled backward.
The ritual had said nothing about this.
A deep rumble echoed beneath the ground, like something ancient had been awakened.
Then the shadow appeared.
At first it was only a distortion in the glowing circle—a darkness rising slowly from the center.
But it kept growing.
Taller.
Sharper.
The shape slowly began to take form.
A figure stepped forward.
The crimson light dimmed slightly, revealing him piece by piece.
Long black hair spilled over his shoulders like liquid midnight, swaying gently in the restless wind. Under the pale moonlight it shimmered faintly, framing a face that was far more striking than the boy had expected.
Sharp features.
Smooth pale skin that seemed almost luminous in the darkness.
And eyes.
Deep crimson eyes that burned softly like distant embers.
They were not monstrous.
They were beautiful.
Dangerously beautiful.
The man stood calmly within the fading circle, his dark clothing flowing around him like shadows. The outfit was elegant and perfectly fitted, giving him the presence of someone powerful—someone who carried authority without needing to show it.
He looked ancient.
Regal.
And impossibly handsome.
The boy stared.
"…He's… handsome," he whispered before he could stop himself.
One of the man's eyebrows lifted slightly.
Clearly, he had heard that.
A faint smile appeared on his lips.
"Careful, human," he said smoothly, his voice low and calm.
"Flattery won't save you."
The boy immediately covered his mouth.
"I—I didn't mean to say that out loud!"
The stranger chuckled softly.
The sound sent a strange chill down the boy's spine.
The crimson-eyed man stepped out of the circle slowly, his gaze fixed on the trembling human before him.
"You summoned me."
It wasn't a question.
The boy swallowed nervously.
"…I think so?"
Silence hung between them.
The stranger tilted his head slightly, studying the boy with quiet curiosity.
Then his smile widened just a little.
"Fascinating."
He took another step forward.
The boy instinctively stepped back.
"You're afraid," the man observed.
"Well, yeah!" the boy blurted out. "You just came out of a glowing demon circle!"
The stranger laughed softly.
"…Fair enough."
His crimson eyes drifted toward the crude symbols drawn on the ground.
Then he looked back at the boy.
"You were attempting to summon a spirit."
The boy nodded quickly.
"Yes! Exactly!"
The man hummed thoughtfully.
"You failed."
The boy blinked.
"…Then why are you here?"
The stranger leaned slightly closer, shadows shifting faintly around him.
"Because," he said quietly,
"you did not summon a spirit."
The boy's stomach dropped.
"…Then what did I summon?"
The man straightened slowly.
Moonlight reflected faintly in his crimson eyes.
"I am the one they once feared."
His voice carried a quiet power that made the air feel heavier.
"The one whose name shook kingdoms."
The forest seemed to grow colder.
Then the man smiled.
Slowly.
"I am the ruler of the Demon Realm."
The boy stared at him.
The stranger's crimson eyes glowed faintly.
"…I am the Demon Lord."
The boy's brain stopped working.
"…What?"
Distant thunder rolled through the sky.
The Demon Lord watched the boy's stunned expression calmly.
"You called me here."
The boy pointed weakly at the summoning circle.
"That was not the plan."
"I assumed as much."
The boy groaned softly and covered his face with his hands.
"…I summoned the Demon Lord."
"Yes."
"…This is the worst mistake of my life."
The Demon Lord's smile widened slightly.
"I disagree."
The boy peeked at him.
"…Why?"
The Demon Lord leaned closer, his crimson eyes gleaming with quiet amusement.
"Because, human…"
His voice lowered to a soft murmur.
"…this is the most interesting night I've had in centuries."