It was a time when the “demon tribe” was still a powerful and absolute ruler.
A dark age in which many nations fell, rose and fell again.
Under the oracle of the “Faceless King,” one of the Five Great Heavenly Kings, the leaders of the “demon tribe,” known as the Twelve Demon Lords, set out to unify the central continent.
If you were not a demon, you were not a person―they showed no mercy for their demon supremacy.
They destroyed even those countries that surrendered to them simply because they were of another race.
Repeated wars, the winds of disease spreading across the devastated land, and the piles of corpses gave rise to new infectious diseases, and the world was overflowing with wreckage.
The gods of the “Five Great Heavenly Kings,” except for the “Faceless King,” took the situation very seriously and extended their hands to other races.
However, the oppressive rule of the powerful “demon tribe” could not be stopped, and the power of the “Faceless King” increased.
Eventually, the “demon tribe” came to power.
They deprived the “human race” of their freedom, oppressed the “long-eared race,” caused the “beastman” to starve, and continued to abuse the “dwarf” race.
One day, however, one thing, and one thing only, was their miscalculation.
Pride, rooted in the strong, a desire for stimulation and a bit of playfulness, led them to their doom.
The “Lionheart King,” who was born among the “human race,” and the “Hero King,” who was born to save the “human race.
The existence of these two men instilled fear in the hearts of the previously powerful “demon tribe.”
The Twelve Demon Lords were no exception. One of them, Hydra, was the same.
Especially the horror of the twin black boys―it was when the war between the “demon tribe” and the “human race” reached its climax.
Hydra was defeated in the war and taken into custody by the twin black boys.
“Finally… it looks like we can start.”
The boy said. He had a soft face as if he could not kill even an insect. But the ecstatic look on his face as he gazed at the torture devices created a distinct sense of discomfort, to the point of giving one the chills.
“……What are you going to do?”
When Hydra asked, the boy tilted his head and let out a smile that was somewhat natural.
“I want power.”
The boy, who had flipped his black robe, walked up to the restrained Hydra and brought his hand closer.
“I want the power to kill even a god.”
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“You still want power; you would go that far――!?”
After his mouth was seized, Hydra was struck by a fear that could not be described in words.
While his eyes were gouged out, he heard the boy’s first dream.
As his arms were cut off, he heard the boy’s wishes.
As his legs were cut off, he heard the boy’s ideals.
He learned of the boy’s thoughts and feelings as his forehead was gouged out.
What was it that transformed the boy, and who was it that made him lack?
No―he was broken from the beginning.
He asked himself questions to escape from despair, but the torment did not bring relief, and before long, he was unable to think of anything else.
After the destruction of his personality, his memories were painted in black.
He clung to the boy’s conscience, tearfully begging for his life and clinging to it even as he was tortured and tormented.
He continued to endure the eternally repeated torture and repeatedly spat out words of apology to the boy, who laughed loudly.
Sometimes hearing the cries of his fellow countrymen nearby, he simply continued to suffer the torment of being a loser all over again.
Over and over, over and over, over and over, over and over again, he kept wishing.
In a world that had lost its light―he kept cursing himself for being killed by the darkness.
He groped for a nearby water bottle to quench his thirst but couldn’t find it. He crawled on the ground and finally hit a hard object.
A loud noise caused him to reach in that direction and clutch the object.
His hand trembled, and he was unable to open the lid properly.
Still, he managed to control his trembling and managed to clear his throat.
“Were you having a nightmare?”
It was the voice of his compatriot. It was Ladon, one of the twelve demon lords who survived the Great War, or rather, was kept alive. His appearance was no longer recognizable. The long thousand years have taken his image away from Hydra.
It was not only Hydra who was deprived of “light” by the boy that day. The same could be said for all of the twelve demon lords who were kept alive.
“I was dreaming of that day.”
Hydra said as he touched his forehead and noticed the presence of a blazing bonfire in front of him. But even though he could sense its presence, he could not see its color.
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Still, thanks to the presence that dispelled the night air, memories that had been obscured by nightmares began to return.
“It was time for me to leave… to sleep, forgetting my role in the world.”
The “Faceless King” handed Hydra something in his arms, and he tried to stand up.
“Don’t worry. There is no need to be in such a hurry. It will be a long time before you need it.”
“I have to crush my fears… I won’t be able to rest until I have his head on my shoulders.”
“Have a drink and calm down.”
Hydra made a gesture with his hand to brush away any hint of the proffered object.
“No need! Finally, finally! One thousand years… we have endured for a thousand years. The days of simply watching the country they left behind flourish are finally coming to an end!”
Hydra stood up vigorously.
With that motion, his hood came off, exposing his scarred face to the outside world.
Staring at Ladon with hollow eyes, Hydra exhaled wildly, his whole body shaking.
“Ladon, how can you be so calm!”
The wind blew, irritating his skin like a freezing blade. It made Hydra’s old wounds tingle.
“Guuh… Aah, aah, Ladon, I can’t… hold myself back anymore. The thought of getting revenge on him makes me lose my cool! Every time my wounds tingle, I am reminded of it. The glory days he stole from me! To get them back again, to get my eyes back, I need the… magic stone.”
Ladon let out a small sigh as Hydra crouched down, holding his face with both hands.
“A thousand years is a long time. That is why, Hydra, I can remain calm.”
“…What?”
“I thought it would never happen. I even gave up. I thought he had vanished into thin air. But now he has reappeared in the world―and I can destroy the Grantz right in front of his eyes. How can we not rejoice in this? How can I not look forward to this?”
Ladon broke off and looked at Hydra with hollow eyes.
“Don’t let your anger cloud your vision.”
A bonfire crackled, sending sparks flying.
“We will not tear him―the God of War―to pieces until the Grantz is destroyed.”
Perhaps calmed by Ladon’s admonition, Hydra’s smile deepened as he looked up.
“You are right… Ladon. The Grantz will not escape their doom.”
“All is in the hands of our King. Nothing he can do will change that.”
“Our Father. Give death to the Grantz―and glory to the demons.”
When Hydra raised his hands to the night sky and said these words, Ladon did the same.
“Our Father. Give the fools eternal torment. Our Father. Bring peace to the saint.”