Demon King's Love - 1. Feng Deming

In a distant realm beyond the known world lay Astara, an ancient land of demons. The young prince, Feng Deming, who appeared no older than ten years of age by human standards, raced through fields alongside the lieutenant. The grass brushed against his legs as they sprinted into the fading daylight on the horizon, hope and uncertainty pushing them forward. His heart raced with each step, breath quickening in sync with the lieutenant's as they fled for their lives until they stopped in the center of the field.

Deming's breath caught as the hundreds of high fairy lords loomed ahead, blocking their path. "Enemies," he murmured, his heart quickening, fear dilating his pupils at the sight of the fairies for the first time. Preparing to flee, he quickly shifted his gaze to the lieutenant, ready to anticipate his next move.

"Lord Muchen," the lieutenant whispered.

"Muchen?" Deming's heart raced, a knot forming in his chest as he locked eyes with the fairy leader. 'He killed my father.' A tear escaped his eye, and his fists clenched in fury, replaying his father's last words in his mind.

"Take my son to safety, Lieutenant. Protect him with your life."

Without a word, the lieutenant slowly lowered his sword. The silence thickened with tension, broken only by the prince's rapid breaths and the distant murmur of the fairies.

"What are you doing? You're going to get yourself killed!" Deming cried out as the lieutenant approached the fairy leader.

"My lord, you have arrived early."

"What? Him?" Deming's jaw dropped, and he turned to the lieutenant and the fairy leader, eyes widening at the lieutenant's indifference. Like a setting sun, the vibrancy in his golden eyes dimmed as the truth slowly sank in. "Don't tell me... that you..."

"Truthfully, Lieutenant, I had concerns that you would not uphold your end of the deal. However, I admit I was mistaken." The fairy leader, Lord Muchen, nodded and commanded, "NOW!"

With a flick of the fairies' wrists, they activated the chains wrapped around Deming's limbs, empowered by twenty layers of glyphs.

'What... is this?' Deming eyed the phantom chains encircling his wrists, brows furrowing with concern. He struggled to free himself from the chains, but they held firm, resisting his every effort. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he grasped the futility of his attempts—the glyphs reinforcing the bindings proved too powerful to overcome.

"I promise I shall take good care of my slave."

"Me? A slave?" Deming's jaw clenched, eyes boring into Lord Muchen in anger. He turned to the lieutenant, gaze intense as he whispered, "What is happening?"

The Astaran lieutenant's eyebrows furrowed as he moved forward with suspicion, capturing Deming's attention. He whispered, "What is happening? Your father was a coward who prioritized himself and his son over his own people. I am only doing what he lacked the guts to do for the safety of Astara. And as its new ruler, I will do it right." With a deep bow before the fairy leader, he swept his hand from his chest toward Deming in a grand gesture. "Lord Muchen, as you requested."

Deming's pulse quickened, gaze hardening as he fixed it on the lieutenant with a piercing glare. "You..." His voice trembled.

The lieutenant sneered, savoring his victory while maintaining his facade in front of the fairy leader. "In exchange for my life and the Supreme Throne of Astara, I present Feng Deming—the crown prince."

Disgust etched itself into Deming's features as he glared at the lieutenant. "You despicable traitor!" he spat, voice quivering with rage. "My father was a blind man to trust a coward who stoops to slavery. You are a mockery of a king."

The lieutenant stepped back, eyes darting between Deming and Lord Muchen, sweat trickling down his forehead. 'I have no choice... If I don't hand over the prince, Astara is doomed. The fairies would wipe us out,' he agonized, guilt tearing at his soul. "I am aware that slavery goes against our principles. However..." He acknowledged his treason and the strict prohibition against slavery, a code ingrained within his tribe since its foundation millions of years ago. 'There's nothing I can do now.'

In a final attempt, Deming's eyes pleaded with the lieutenant, silently begging for compassion, even as the chains held him firmly in place.

His troubled gaze shifted, unable to meet Deming's eyes, and he stated, "He is all yours," and walked away without turning back.

Lord Muchen's eyes flickered with pleasure as he stepped forward with grace, eyeing the prince with satisfaction. "A most generous offering, indeed."

Deming's fists clenched, fury blazed in his eyes, molten lava raging within them as his once-prestigious life crumbled into a living hell. "One day, the Fairy Realm will fall, and its name will be forgotten forever—along with yours," he declared, voice fuming with anger. "I promise you this!"

Thousands of years passed since the fall of the previous Astaran king and Feng Deming's imprisonment, kept deep underground within the dungeon to ensure the safety of the Fairy Realm. The young prince, now in his late teens, possessed strikingly handsome features, sculpted precisely according to the golden ratio: a pointed nose, defined cheekbones, and eyebrows as sharp as daggers. His long, dark-brown hair flowed down to his thighs, enhancing his captivating appearance.

The dungeon emitted a musty odor, its walls marked with droplets of his blood as a reminder of years of insufferable torture. Focused solely on breaking the phantasmal chains that bound him, he had studied the twenty seals during his captivity. With closed eyes and a glowing forehead, he diligently deciphered them, yearning for the liberty to walk free once more.

'How satisfying it would be to see no trace of their world, all by my own hands,' Deming entertained as his lips curled into an evil, pleasure-filled smirk. 'Their mutilated bodies shall be my masterpiece, and their painful screams, well, the sweetest melody to my ears... And all of that is within my grasp now.'

With his eyes tightly shut, Deming listened intently as heavy footsteps approached the dungeon and the faint murmur of male voices. Aware of Feng Deming's immense power, many self-proclaimed 'gods' had gathered to prevent his escape.

The fairy general, also known as 'the god of war,' shouted through the dungeon, "Cease, demon!"

Deming did not open his eyes yet, not when he was this close to breaking the seal. 'Now, they shall witness the true meaning of what they call... a monster,' he sneered as he continued to decode.

The general's voice grew more forceful. "I said, stop!" His hand formed a beam of light.

Despite the repeated warnings, Deming did not halt his work.

Frustration and dread gripped the general as he turned to his troops. "Attack!"

With a burst of energy, the group fired brilliant beams of light at the chained-up demon, following the man's orders without hesitation. However, even when they joined forces, their combined strength could not hold Deming back.

And at this moment, his efforts to break the seals paid off. In a seamless effort, the chains that had tightly constricted his limbs and neck, strangling him with pressure, vanished.

The demon's eyes, golden like molten metal and framed by long lashes, held a deadly beauty forged from untold suffering and the promise of vengeance. They opened, sweeping a terrifying glare of disdain over the group. With a smirk, he taunted in a deep voice, "I wish you could see your faces."

"Stay alert, everyone!" the fairy general gritted his teeth. "Lord Muchen is nearly here! Stay put!"

The mere mention of Muchen caused Deming's eye to twitch and his jaws to clench. 'Why is he depending on him? Don't tell me that Lord Muchen... has another trick up his sleeve to trap me?' He locked eyes with the terrified general and gave him a daring smirk. 'How amusing... So, the plan to obliterate this entire realm is postponed... No matter... First, I shall eradicate these pests, then return to Astara to reclaim my throne, retrieve our stolen lands and historical artifacts, learn every detail about the fairies' schemes, and then destroy their realm. I should not let my guard down. Muchen is cunning.'

A soldier rushed into the throne room, his voice trembling with urgency. "My lord, the Astaran prince is on the verge of breaking free!" The sunlight, now a blinding glare, reflected off his shiny white armor, giving the chamber's crystal pillars a vibrant glow. A faint smell of incense filled the room, blending its sweet and earthy scent.

This news filled Lord Muchen's heart with anxiety as he whispered, "That cannot be... he is just a boy."

Lord Muchen, a middle-aged man, had a royal presence about him. He wore a long, white robe that represented his power. His partially tied-back hair, as black as night, allowed a few loose strands to frame his sharp features. A golden crown that resembled twisted plant stems sat upon his head, symbolizing his connection to nature and his role as ruler.

Muchen's hands trembled uncontrollably. "Seal... that... demon," he urged in a strained whisper. His teeth clenched so tightly that they threatened to shatter, and his eyes bulged with fear. "Summon all the high gods. IMMEDIATELY!"

"Yes, my lord," the fairy soldier bowed, only to be interrupted by the ground shaking violently, surprising them both.

"Hurry!" Muchen scowled in disdain. 'If Feng Deming roams free, our demise is inevitable.'

Deming tilted his head and regarded the fairy general with a cold stare as the general caught his breath in his chest, sweat trickling down his forehead. Overwhelmed with fear, he could only look back at the demon prince's deadly gaze with his trembling eyes.

The fairy general appeared to be in his mid-twenties. With long, silver hair that added to his handsome appearance, he wore an elegant gold head chain with a jewel hanging from it, which rested against his forehead and matched his vibrant blue eyes.

The demon's golden eyes shone with a fiery red glow, his dark aura intensified, and an eerie energy came from him as he clenched his fists. Time seemed to stand still at that moment, and in an instant, an explosion filled the dungeon. The unfortunate fairies closest to him vanished in a cloud of smoke, and the painful screams of hundreds echoed through the dungeon.

A strong, smoky smell, like that of burnt matches and materials, overwhelmed the senses of those who survived the attack.

The general felt helpless against the ruthless attack. Drops of blood trickled from his trembling lips as he muttered in confusion and fear, "What... what is he?"

"Make sure you prepare for my return, for I shall reduce your precious realm to dust," Deming stated with a cold smirk as he rose into the air. In an instant, fierce black flames burst from his back, forming wings that stretched wide as they crackled and burned. A swirling cloud of black smoke followed, covering him in his departure and leaving behind a bone-chilling nightmare for the witnesses.

A moment later, Muchen and his soldiers entered the dungeon. They observed the dusty area with heavy hearts as they noticed their tribe's remains scattered everywhere, burned to ashes. Their jaws dropped in shock as they struggled to accept the loss. Their fists clenched, and some had tears in their eyes at the sight of their once-living comrades, now gone.

"L-Lord Muchen," the general barely clung to life, his voice a weak whisper.

Muchen, paralyzed with fear, snapped back to reality, turning his attention to the fortunate survivors. His eyes fell on the injured man lying on the ground who had spoken his name and recognized him. "Yize..."

"I... I failed in my duty." Yize's eyes narrowed in pain. Two of Muchen's soldiers knelt beside him, reaching out their arms to help him as he tried to get back on his feet.

Yet, before he could gather himself, Muchen shot him a cold look and then turned away in disappointment, causing Yize to lower his head in shame.

Standing in the middle of the wrecked dungeon, Muchen balled his fists, his bulging eyes flashing with burning rage. His voice, loaded with evil authority and hatred, commanded, "Seize him!"

Muchen knew that Feng Deming posed the greatest threat to their realm, a truth kept secret among a select few since ancient times.

Millions of years ago, a prophecy foretold the fairies' eventual downfall. An indestructible soul would split into two halves: one possessing the power of insight and compassion, and the other, overwhelming strength and immortality. These two souls would inhabit an Astaran man and woman, and together, they would rule all realms, destroying the high fairy lords and their entire foundation, ending the era of the fairies.

After many generations, countless stories of Feng Deming's unmatched strength and combat skills quickly reached the Fairy Realm, leading Muchen to suspect him as the other prophesied soul destined to bring about their downfall.

Deming soared across the sky, his black robes flowing in the wind. A gentle breeze brushed against his face, tousling his straight, silky hair. He had always imagined that this moment would come—when he could see the sunlight again, sense its warmth, and feel the wind on his skin. It had been an eternity since he had felt such freedom, and the distant horizon called him back to Astara, his home.

Memories of his entire childhood surfaced in his mind. After all those sleepless nights, the constant anxiety, and the echoes of screams, he had learned how much they feared him and viewed him as a monster.

But his peaceful journey was interrupted by a disturbance. His cold, aloof eyes snapped to attention as he sensed an energy beam approaching him from behind. With flawless precision, he dodged the attack, tilting his shoulder and spinning his body to face his opponents.

A group of fairy soldiers hovered before him, their auras shimmering in the sunlight. They moved in sync, tracing complex patterns with their hands, beginning with a circular motion and ending with both palms pressed together, unleashing another powerful beam aimed directly at the prince.

Deming smirked with mischief in his eyes, and mused, "They're courting their demise." With calculated calmness, he closed his golden eyes as the beam hurtled toward him, confident in his ability to turn their own attack against them.

In the blink of an eye, his piercing gaze snapped open, reflecting the blazing fire within him. He raised his arms and manipulated the beam's energy, redirecting it back toward the surprised soldiers.

Now under Deming's control, the beams swirled around the soldiers, growing in intensity until they met their end. Their own attack destroyed them, bursting in blinding light and sound. He watched the explosion with his arms crossed, a brief, satisfied expression in his usually aloof eyes.

"You tried," he dismissed the scene with a wave of his hand and resumed his flight, a faint spark of amusement in his eyes as he contemplated what he personally had planned for Lord Muchen. Leaving the Fairy Realm behind, his form blended with the clear blue sky, thoughts of revenge consuming his mind on his journey back to his realm.

After a few hours, Deming found himself in Astara, a realm where mountains reached the sky, surrounding the land like a protective cloak. In the heart of Astara stood a city far more advanced than any other, where history, culture, art, and academia prospered. The grand palace was the city's crown jewel, its stone walls adorned with stunning carvings that showed the culture and artistry of the Astaran people.

As he approached the palace gates, memories of his childhood came flooding back, driving him swiftly toward the grand throne room, where his sworn enemy awaited.

The massive doors swung open, and Deming stepped inside, revealing his imposing presence in the hall. The Astaran Supreme and the council stared in disbelief as the boy they once knew had grown into a tall teenager.

Whispers and murmurs filled the chamber. One council member leaned toward another, doubtful. "Isn't that Prince Feng Deming? Wasn't he declared dead?"

Deming's deadly gaze locked onto the king's, thirsting for revenge. "Former lieutenant and servant of my father... how dare you sit on my throne!" he taunted in a fierce, deep voice, a burning rage in his glare. "You parasite... You sold me to the fairies as a slave. You disgust me."

Gasps and shouts of outrage echoed throughout the throne room as the prince's bold accusation took the council by surprise. The King of Kings, once mighty, now looked around in shame and fear. His composure crumbled as he attempted to comprehend how Deming's escape had occurred.

"What? Did you truly believe I would remain imprisoned forever?" Deming summoned a raven-black sword with a sinister aura.

The king desperately attempted to regain control. "These accusations are nonsense! If anyone is breaking the law, it is you, entering my palace uninvited... GUARDS!"

Deming's expression remained unchanged. "I made you a promise that day, and as you are aware, I always honor my promises." His gaze wrecked the former lieutenant's nerves as the bystanders watched in horror. "Your reign ends today, and I will ensure not a single statue is made in your likeness, nor will any Astaran speak your name again until you are forgotten..." He paused, observing his own hand with indifference, disrespecting the king. "Also, why would I need permission to enter my palace?"

The king, realizing he faced his doom, drew his sword in a desperate attempt to defend himself. Yet, before he could raise his blade, Deming moved with the speed of light, striking before the king could lift his sword. With a swift blow, the prince shattered the king's defenses, leaving him gasping as his life force ebbed away.

Deming stood over the fallen ruler, his breath heavy with anger. The council members dropped to their knees, recognizing his power. They knew they had no choice but to submit. His reign had begun, and there would be no mercy for those who opposed him. The prince had become a tyrant—the King of Kings and the Astaran Supreme Leader, also known as the Supreme Lord.

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COPYRIGHT INFORMATION

Demon King's Love

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, filmed, animated, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author.

The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.

Demon King's Love has been rewritten and revamped from an earlier iteration by Aurora Luxi.

ISBN: 9798223752325

AuroraLuxi.com/Demon-Kings-Love

I praise God for being the unbreakable pillar in my life during the most challenging times and for providing me with ideas for a story.

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