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Chapter 1: The Boy Who Returned After Eighteen Years
The Devil Domain was silent.
A silence so heavy that even the torches lining the obsidian walls seemed afraid to flicker too loudly.
Upon his towering throne, Demon Lord Makugan rested his chin against his knuckles, irritation clouding his expression.
“Kurojin… what should I do about that mortal?” His voice echoed through the dark chamber. “He is far too stiff for a human.”
Kurojin, standing faithfully at his side, lowered his gaze.
“I… am uncertain as well, my lord.”
Before another word could be spoken, hurried footsteps rang through the corridor outside. The massive doors burst open, and a soldier stumbled inside, breath ragged and uneven.
“M-My Lord! News!”
Makugan’s eyes sharpened. “Speak.”
“The Devil Lord… has returned. He summons you to his quarters.”
For a single second—barely noticeable—Makugan froze.
Returned?
After fifty years in the mortal world?
A thin layer of sweat formed across his forehead. Without another word, he rose from his throne and vanished in a distortion of dark energy.
---
The Devil Domain trembled faintly as Kurozan walked toward his throne.
Four executioners followed silently behind him, their presence cold and merciless. He moved with unhurried elegance, long coat brushing the black marble floor.
He sat.
A faint smile curved his lips.
“My devils…” His voice was smooth, almost nostalgic. “How I missed this place.”
The air shifted.
Makugan appeared before him instantly, kneeling without hesitation.
“My Lord. You have returned after fifty years… What is your command?”
Kurozan did not look at him immediately.
“There is no command.” His tone was calm — too calm. “You are useless to me, Makugan. I merely wished to inform you of something.”
Makugan’s jaw tightened, but he remained silent.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“I met that mortal,” Kurozan continued. “Hirauka.”
The name lingered in the air.
“For a human, his aura was remarkable.” A faint amusement glinted in his crimson eyes. “Yet he trembled in my presence. I buried him beneath concrete… but someone interfered.”
Makugan raised his head slightly. “I am not surprised, my Lord.”
Kurozan’s gaze finally fell upon him — sharp, dismissive.
“Leave. I do not wish to see your face any longer.”
Makugan bowed deeply before disappearing once more.
And in the darkness of the Devil Domain, Kurozan smiled to himself.
“The game has only begun.”
---
Far away, in the mortal world—
Darkness stretched endlessly.
Hirauka floated in a void without sky, without ground. The realm around him slowly shrank, closing in like invisible hands tightening around his chest.
He could not breathe.
He could not escape.
Then—
He jolted awake.
Cold sweat clung to his skin.
“Where… am I?”
He found himself lying in a large guest room, soft light filtering through sheer curtains. The scent of unfamiliar wood and faint spices lingered in the air.
“And that man… who was he?”
The door opened quietly.
“You are in my house, Hirauka.”
Hirauka turned sharply.
The man standing at the doorway looked familiar — painfully familiar — yet older. Stronger.
“Who are you?” Hirauka asked cautiously. “And how do you know my name?”
The man smiled faintly.
“I’m the one who used to steal your shoes… and hang them from the tree branches.”
Time stopped.
Hirauka’s mind drifted backward.
---
[Flashback]
Two boys ran through a quiet street under the golden light of evening.
“Hirauka, hurry!” the smaller boy called out. “If we’re late, Aunt Sanae will scold us!”
“Don’t worry, Soren,” young Hirauka laughed. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t blame you.”
They burst into the house, breathless and smiling.
Sanae stood with her arms crossed.
“You two spent the whole day playing again?”
“I-I’m sorry, Aunt!” Soren bowed nervously.
Hirauka stepped forward. “Mom, it was my fault. Please don’t scold Soren.”
Sanae’s stern face softened slightly.
“I know it’s your fault,” she sighed. “But you never admit it until I scold him first.”
Both boys lowered their heads.
“Promise me,” she said gently, “that you’ll remain best friends… even when you grow up.”
They looked at each other, then shouted together—
“We promise!”
---
[Flashback Ends]
Hirauka’s vision blurred slightly.
“…Soren?”
The man in front of him smiled wider.
“It’s me.”
For a moment, Hirauka could only stare.
Then emotion surged through him all at once.
“I can’t believe it… I never thought I would see you again.”
“I was thinking the same,” Soren replied softly.
There was no dramatic embrace.
Just two men standing in silence — overwhelmed by the weight of years lost.
“I wanted to tell you everything that happened after Aunt Sanae left,” Soren said. “But I heard about your father…”
Hirauka’s expression darkened slightly.
“Yes.”
Regret lingered in his eyes.
“I misunderstood him my whole life. He was manipulated.”
“Manipulated?” Soren frowned. “By whom?”
“The Devil Lord.”
The room felt colder at the mention of that title.
“When I went to the prison,” Hirauka continued, “a criminal revealed the truth. My father’s sins were not entirely his own.”
Soren’s gaze sharpened. “So that’s why you came back here.”
Hirauka clenched his fist lightly.
“I want revenge.”
A quiet pause filled the room.
“…How did you even know I was here?” Hirauka asked suddenly.
Soren’s lips curved into a mysterious smile.
“I have my own connections.”
Hirauka raised an eyebrow but chose not to press further.
“Where is Aunt Maria?” he asked instead.
Soren’s expression softened.
“She passed away when I was eighteen. I live alone now.”
“…I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright.” Soren shook his head gently. “Come. Let’s talk properly.”
---
They entered Soren’s room.
It was neat and warm — wooden shelves, soft lighting, the faint scent of cooking spices lingering from downstairs.
“Your room is nice,” Hirauka said, glancing around. “What do you do for work?”
“I continued my family business,” Soren replied. “We sell meat.”
Hirauka smiled faintly. “I remember.”
“And Aunt Sanae?”
“She’s well,” Hirauka said quietly. “She would’ve loved to see you.”
They both laughed softly at old memories.
“She always blamed me for keeping you outside,” Soren said.
“And we still went out every day,” Hirauka replied.
Silence settled — not uncomfortable, but reflective.
Then Soren tilted his head.
“What about her?”
“…Her?”
“The woman who came with you.”
Hirauka blinked. “Oh. Sayaka.”
His voice softened unconsciously.
“She’s the CEO of the company I work for.”
Soren’s brows lifted slightly. “Your boss came with you for something this serious?”
Hirauka hesitated, then smiled faintly.
“She’s more than that. She’s… my future wife.”
The words felt warm on his tongue.
“I love her. She loves me too. We’re both raid conquerors.”
Soren studied him for a moment before nodding slowly.
“I became a raider five months ago,” he said casually.
Hirauka’s eyes widened. “Five months? I only started two weeks ago.”
Soren chuckled softly.
“Then you must be hungry.”
Hirauka smiled — a genuine, nostalgic smile.
“I want kottbullar med potatis.”
Soren’s eyes warmed at the familiarity.
“I’ll cook.”
“You can cook?”
“Of course.”
Hirauka leaned back slightly, feeling something he had not felt in days.
Peace.
For now, at least.
Outside, the evening sky darkened slowly.
And somewhere far beyond mortal sight, unseen eyes were still watching.
---
