Kind Demon King

A hush fell over the council chamber, thick with an uneasy tension that coiled in the air like a serpent poised to strike. Ilaria lay on the floor beneath Poyraz, the cold bite of fear and humiliation mingling with the pain she felt. The council members shifted in their seats, eyes wide with disbelief at the display of power they had just witnessed. Some of them covered their noses to avoid the metallic scent of the blood quickly overtaking the room while others shivered as the room got cooler and cooler.

“Let me introduce myself again. My name is Poyraz Karabulut. I had many ranks and honors a long time ago, in a faraway place. None of it matters now.”

The council members exchanged wary glances, some clearly regretting their earlier laughter at Ilaria’s taunts. It was a brutal lesson: beneath the facade of bravado, they all understood the truth. The Champion was no mere boy; he was something else entirely.

“Wanna know why it doesn’t matter?”

They didn’t answer. Most of them tried to avoid his gaze, instead focusing on the shadows wrapping around him as if they were alive. The warm shadows cast down on them from the lamps were drawn towards him, clinging to his skin like obedient beasts.

“Because everyone is dead. Everything is destroyed. There is no one to remember who I am or what I am. And the worst part is we didn’t lose because we were weak. We didn’t lose because we were cowardly. We lost because our rulers were greedy and they focused on their own gains and agendas instead of focusing on the greater good.”

His voice was steady, echoing off the chamber walls as he spoke the words that hung heavy in the air. The council members sat in silence, their expressions a mix of curiosity and trepidation, each feeling the weight of Poyraz's gaze as he surveyed them.

“They were so consumed by power and control that they allowed their subjects to suffer, and ultimately, they brought ruin upon themselves.” He paused, letting the gravity of his words sink in.

“I was given another chance to right my wrongs. To do what I couldn’t do. Saving people.”

He slowly got up from on top of Ilaria, still recovering from her shock and the icy grip of fear.

“Thalia, please heal her.”

Thalia stepped forward, her expression serious yet compassionate. “Of course, Champion,” she replied her voice a soothing balm amid the tension. She knelt beside Ilaria, whose cheeks were still flushed from humiliation and anger. Thalia placed her hands over Ilaria’s wound, a gentle glow emanating from her fingertips as she channeled the healing light.

“Stay still,” Thalia instructed softly. “You’ll feel a bit of warmth, and the pain will subside.”

Ilaria flinched at first but then surrendered to the priestess's touch, the glow wrapping around her like a protective shroud. The icy chill that had permeated the air began to recede, replaced by the warmth of Thalia's healing. Gradually, the color returned to Ilaria's face as the pain dulled, leaving only a faint ache behind.

As Thalia worked, Poyraz turned his attention back to the council. He reached into his shadow and pulled a massive, black skull with horns. He casually threw it, the massive bone landing on the middle of the table with a loud thud.

“This is the skull of Bloodbane who commanded Asmoneal’s armies before Rodrick, my precursor wounded him. He attacked Whifur, a city my friends cherished with an army of demons. If it wasn’t for the bravery of the townfolk and the arrival of their forces, thousands would have died.”

Poyraz pointed to Artemeni, Thalia, and Aurora. He then bowed his head.

“I thank every one of them and you who sent them.”

The council members stared at the skull, the weight of its presence serving as a stark reminder of the potential horrors they faced. The room grew heavier, the flickering magical lamps casting elongated shadows that danced ominously across the walls.

“This is just the beginning. Moloch, the demon king imprisoned by the Goddess of Freedom is about to break out of its cage. “While you bicker among yourselves,” Poyraz continued, “while you scheme and plot, the world outside your walls is changing. Threats rise, and darkness gathers, waiting for the chance to strike.”

Poyraz stopped to take a breath, his purple eyes growing weary just like before.

“I wish I was strong enough to defeat every threat. I wish I could save everyone. But I am not. No one is. If we want to survive, if we want to stop demons from overtaking our cities, slaughtering and raping millions we have to unite. I have seen a world end. I don’t want to see it again.”

He gazed at all members of the council, forming eye contact with each of them.

“You have every right to question my qualifications. If it makes you fight against the darkness, I am ready to prove my strength, sword, and heart to you. But,”

He looked at Ilaria who was trying to move her stitched hand.

“Not like this. Aliera told me that I would find brave and honorable warriors here not uncivilized barbarians. Act like it.”

He continued his sentence as he pulled a sword from thin air. Despite seeing many master-crafted weapons, the eyes of council members widened. The blade was long and simple, forged with a dull, grey metal. Their gazes were drawn to the shining rune etched on the blade. It was in a lighter grey but it gave out a small hue. Those knowledgeable in history quickly recognized the rune even though not even one could read it. It was the rune of Stars. The leather-wrapped hilt molded perfectly to his grip, while dark chains intertwined around his arm, symbolizing the bond between man and weapon.

It wasn’t flashy or beautiful. Rather, it was simple. Yet every single one of them could feel the divine power radiating off the sword. The very same power their Goddess has bestowed upon them, only more potent and stronger. They knew what it meant. Even a few who had no interest in religion and gods were raised with stories of it.

The Sacred Sword of Selection. The mark of Aliera’s Champion. Its shape was different from what’s described in the stories but no one paid no mind to it. Every Champion had their own Sacred Sword.

“What will have us do, Champion?”

The Queen who hadn’t spoken a word since the beginning asked. She looked directly at him, not avoiding his blood-covered face. Poyraz felt the weight of the queen's gaze.

“Nothing you can’t do. I only ask you to do what a good person would do in times of darkness.”

He answered quickly and with confidence. The council chamber remained silent, the weight of Poyraz's words settling over them like a heavy shroud.

“There will be people who cannot fight for themselves. People who lost their homes. People have no food or water. I will fight for them. I want you to fight with me.”

Poyraz took a deep breath, his mana slowly overwhelming the council chamber.

“If you don’t, if you think this is not your fight, if you think they deserved it, if you think it is not your responsibility you will join them. I was told about your relationships, both inside and outside. I know that putting aside years of conflict is too much to ask. But if you don’t, you will die.”

Council members shifted uncomfortably in their seats as they looked at each other.

“Everything you said is true and valid. However, the last recorded appearance of a demon king in our world was hundreds of years ago. Just like you said it was only stopped by the combined efforts of several countries after destroying 3 countries and killing millions of people. I pray that our Goddess has given you a way that doesn’t involve the same method.”

The Queen sounded neither warm nor cold. Poyraz met the Queen's gaze, the intensity of her scrutiny not lost on him. He could sense the skepticism woven through her words, and he understood the gravity of her concerns. Her voice was measured, and cautious, reflecting the weight of leadership she bore.

“Yes. I was instructed to conquer War God’s Battle Area. I was told there was something Goddess of Freedom left that could help us seal Moloch again.”

The council members exchanged glances, uncertainty swirling among them.

“May I inquire what that thing is?”

Poyraz took a moment, the weight of the council’s gazes bearing down on him like an impending storm. He could sense their apprehension.

“I wish I knew. The Stars are… cryptic.”

It was a lie. Yet Poyraz didn’t even blink when he told it. Technically, he was telling the truth, at least most of it. Aliera nearly always gave her crumbs of information and the solution to their problem was the Goddess of Freedom.

The council members exchanged glances, the silence hanging heavily in the air as they absorbed Poyraz’s words. The Queen, her regal composure unwavering, leaned forward slightly, her dark green eyes piercing through the uncertainty in the room.

“You wish to venture into the War God’s Battle Area,” she stated, her voice calm but tinged with caution. “It is a treacherous place, filled with trials that have broken many before you. It is almost like you want us to sponsor you for the raid.”

Poyraz nodded, a smile spreading across his lips.

“I expected Quipax to be able to support a single raid. Was I wrong?”

He answered cheekly. Ilaria, now visibly healed but still simmering with resentment, pushed herself to her feet.

“You think that conquering a dungeon is child’s play? Especially one as difficult as War God’s Battle Area? You would need at least 50 well-trained warriors, 20 mages, and 10 priestesses! You would need the gear needed for the dungeon! You would need potions, tents, food, and water for at least 80 people! Do you think all of that is easy? You would need the money, connections, and time for it!”

Poyraz slowly turned to Ilaria, his face still covered with her blood. She shrunk back under his gaze.

“Why would I need all that?”

Ilaria’s challenge hung in the air like a charged arrow, and for a moment, the council fell into a silence that buzzed with tension. Poyraz regarded her, the remnants of the icy chill still palpable in the room, but he was unfazed. His expression was calm, almost amused.

“Why would I need all that?” he repeated, his voice steady and unwavering.

“Honestly, I would prefer going alone but Thalia probably wouldn’t let me.”

Poyraz shrugged as he looked at Thalia who was giving him a stern look. Poyraz’s nonchalance seemed to ignite a spark of outrage in Ilaria.

“You underestimate the dangers of that place!” she snapped, taking a step forward, her posture radiating defiance. “ I have been in dungeons for my entire li-“

“Enough.”

Poyraz’s cold voice cut through her hot words.

“The only one who’s underestimating something is you. I was chosen by Aliera, Goddess of War. The Star who slain a demon king the day she was born. Out of millions currently living in this world and billions who lived before, she chose me as her champion.”

Ilaria’s defiance faltered, her fierce expression wavering as she tried to comprehend the enormity of what he had just claimed. The other members were in a similar condition as her. All of them heard this kind of boast before, some even spoke similar words to this yet the conviction in Poyraz’s voice pushed them to think this was no arrogant bragging.

“Those who want to support the Champion, raise your hands.”

With the queen’s words started to rise. They were few in number at first but slowly every raised their hands.

Quipax welcomed their champion.