Demon King - Demon King Chapter 1: A Light That Avoided My Own Death

 Prev Next 

    During free time, normal students would play football, chat, and have a great time, but we aren't normal students. In our free time, we gather at the colosseum to see two seniors sparring.

    Silence. Then the sound of a sword cutting through the air. I wasn't even close to the arena but I still could feel the static electricity on my hair. Rihad, the young man who was sparring, had his eyes closed. He took a deep breath, then opened his eyes and said, “respond to my ideals, and lend me your strength!” A gigantic beam descended from the sky.

    “I can do this...” answered Lunisa, the opponent of Rihad. She raised her hands to the beam and made it disappear before placing her hands on her hips. A ghostly spirit floated in the air behind her.

    “I brought popcorn,” my friend said, coming up from behind me.

    “Thanks, Chloe,” I answered, my eyes fixed on the event.

    Sparks and gusts of wind flew across the battlefield because of the fight. It was like a firework display, beautiful yet dangerous.

    Rihad tried to charge another beam but Lunisa managed to cut the distance between them. She grabbed Rihads wrist.

    “Tell me, are you a Saint or a Knight?” asked Lunisa.

    “I am a secret,” Rihad answered with a smile, then a pillar from the ground hit Lunisa. Lunisa couldn't land on her feet and rolled through the ground.

    “You're a headache,” Lunisa said while standing up. “You enjoy confusing people. Holding that sword while you can also use lighting.”

    “I've always liked fencing, you know,” answered Rihad, looking at his sword.

    Rihad rushed at Lunisa so fast that he left small sparks behind him and like a master of fencing he slashed through the air trying to reach Lunisa. Lunisa wasn't as fast as Rihad, but she managed to predict the movements of the sword, avoiding it and showing her vast experience in close combat.

    Lunisa took a chance when Rihad was charging his sword, she quickly jumped in front of him and attempted to kick his chin. Rihad managed to avoid it.

    The posture Lunisa had left my eyes wide open. Lunisa was standing on one feet while the other was straight pointing to the ceiling.

    “I bet he is a knight,” said my friend, Chloe.

    “You could say that by his sword…” I layed back in my seat, moving my eyes to the ceiling that was being placed because of the winter that was coming. “But he never lets anyone touch it so you can't tell if it's a Spiritual weapon or a real weapon…”

    “Hmm… I'm only sure Lunisa is a Saint, you can see her blessing.”

    Chloe referred to the ghostly spirit floating around Lunisa.

    “Yeah, you're right,” I said while finishing my popcorn

    “Want more?” Chloe offered.

    “Thanks.”

    “Don't you think a Prophet should be able to also be that strong?” she asked innocently.

    “I can't be that strong. Prophet is the weakest category, and I am the weakest.”

    “Don't say that. If you try it I'm sure that—”

    “No, I've already told you a thousand times I don't want to try it.” After saying that, I felt like I was too mean to her. “I just... “

    “You don't have to say it.”

    I was afraid. A Prophet has the ability to teach their offspring the techniques they have developed. In other words, I can open that possibility to my family, if I had one.

    When I was younger I lived with my parents and little sister. One day, my parents died. Nobody told me what happened, and I couldn't care less. I had to take care of my sister who was just a baby at that time. It happened when I was seven years old.

    There is no desire for me to become stronger. Every time I train I feel my energy being drained, and sometimes when I talk with friends I forget some things. It’s strange. But the most important reason is that I don't want to leave my sister alone.

    Again, I looked to the fight between Rihad and Lunisa. The way they moved and responded to each movement that the other made as if they could see in the future, was clearly something I could never do. Lunisa managed to always avoid Rihad's sword and get him into close combat, but even in that situation, Rihad wasn't weak and quickly managed to create a distance again using Elemental Nous.

    Watching them made me feel one way: I'm completely useless.

    “Are you still thinking of moving to the countryside with your sister?” Chloe asked.

    Again, I looked to the ceiling to rest my eyes from the fight.

    "Yup. That's the only way I can live in peace.”

    “Will going to the fields ensure you don't lose anyone?” she tilted her head inquisitively, letting her long black hair swing at her side.

    The ground rumbled. Rihad managed to punch Lunisa in the face, which made her mad. Rihad quickly shot thunder but Lunisa was able to redirect it using her bare hands. The fight was getting really intense.

    “It's the best option for me,” I looked to the floor.

    “Idiot,” she replied. For some reason that sounded like she was giving up on something.

    “You suffer more when you try to fight against adversity, and I am determined to avoid that at all costs—”

    “Watch out!” a sudden voice cried out.

    Instinctually, I reached for Chloe, pulling her towards me as a burst of light flashed past us.

    “Whoops! Sorry!” Lunisa said from the battlefield.

    As soon as my eyes adjusted, I saw the hole in the ceiling. It would have killed Chloe if I hadn't pulled her away in time. My heart raced and my hands trembled at his overwhelming power. A power inches away from my face.

    My knees were shaking, the back of my shirt drenched in sweat. Nerves fluttered in the pit of my stomach as if little butterflies were trying to escape.

    “Be more careful, asshole,” Rihad said.

    Rihad and the woman continued in their training, but at a lower intensity, while the other spectators also returned to their business.

    “That was close,” Chloe said, laughing at the situation.

    I tried to smile too, but it was impossible. My instincts told me to hide, to flee from the danger I could encounter. Despite this feeling, I continued to grasp her arm, protecting her.

    Chole was one of the first friends I had when I was little. She was very shy and reserved, probably because of her father’s death during the war. I can't exactly remember why, but we started hanging out, playing video games, eating fast food, and I think we even spent Christmas together. I don't know exactly why, but I still remember clearly that her father used to share sandwiches with her. We ended up doing the same.

    “Here, today comes with chicken and tomato,” she said, giving me half of a sandwich.

    “Thank you,” I didn't want to eat, but still received it as she leaned on me, observing Rihad’s training.

    Of course, as a child, it’s very easy to make friends. Everyone's the same, and the differences between religions, appearances, or whatever doesn’t matter. However, as time goes on, the gap shows. Now, the only difference that matters is your power. As a result, I stayed far behind, being a Prophet with no Legacy to pass on. I realized training would be a waste of time; the only option I had was being condemned to watch all my classmates, including Chloe, improve while I stayed the same.

    “Ah, I brought this,"  Chloe took a soda from her backpack. “the notebooks take up a lot of space and I can only fit one, so we will have to share.” She drew a brief smile on her plump-cheeked face.

    Chloe poured some soda on a plastic cup for me.

    I wondered if, when she goes to the war and I go to the field, we will meet again.

    As she handed me the soda, she whispered, “can you lend me your notes from math class?”

    “Again?” I yelled as I squeezed the plastic cup. “It’s the fourth time this week!”

    “Please,” she insisted. “I—”

    The bell interrupted her.

[Recess is over! Return to your classes.]

    While we were walking through the hallway I noticed a paper pasted on the wall. I stopped by to see what was written on it. It was about the recent disappearances.

    The paper had a big red warning title that was above the images of different scenarios where the events, announced in the paper, had taken place. There was a little text on the right side.

    “Must be horrible,” Chloe approached the paper. “Living in Vaalbara, the safest country and despite that, powerful Nous users have gone missing.”

    “But they do leave a trail.” I pointed to a small detail in the text of the paper. “It says that the victims aren't just connected because they were Nous users, but also because the ones doing this always leave a piece of cloth with a drawing of a black hand…”

    Now that I think about it, it's not a trail. It's something left on purpose, but why?

    “Gives me chills,” said Chloe.

    I began playing with my black hair while thinking. A Nous user isn't just someone who can control fire, water, earth, or air; that's the basics. The missing people were high-ranked military. Powerful Knights and Saints.

    Even this kind of stuff did not make Chloe wish to run away?

    “Wanna help me?” asked Chloe while lending me a hairband.

    “Even the strongest lose, why would I even try it,” I started to pick up her hair.

    “Then it means they weren't strong enough,” she replied while crossing her arms.

    “And what about you?”

    She spent a moment looking at her hands, full of calluses.

    “My father died fighting a war nobody knew who was going to win. We can never know if we will win or not. We need to fight to at least have a chance to survive.”

    I stopped tying her hair to look at it for a moment. It reminded me of when my sister asked me for this kind of stuff.

    “Running away is also a…”

    “No, it isn't.”

    I finished her ponytail. Chloe began walking to our class.

    Legacy. A Knight can use its Nous to create a weapon. A Saint can use its Nous to have a Blessing. A Prophet can use its Nous to give a Legacy. I can understand its importance for others. Chloe has a Legacy and she wants to be worthy of it. That's why she won't run away. Pride is what a Prophet can give to a Knight and a Saint; something to be proud of because we need something to fight for.

    Then there's me, a Prophet without Legacy.


x