Fallen Demon Lord

The arena buzzed with tension, every noble eye locked on the two figures standing at its center. Marble pillars lined the ceremonial hall, and above them all sat Lord Darian Valemorth, his expression unreadable. Beside him, Lady Rovena's knuckles were white from how tightly she gripped her chair.

Cedric's eyes burned with hatred. He sneered.

"You humiliated me, you bastard. Today, I'll repay that debt."

Kaelen said nothing.

They took their wooden swords. The duel began.

Cedric lunged forward — wild, reckless, and furious. But Kaelen... was still. His body moved only when needed, effortlessly sidestepping each blow. His silence enraged Cedric further.

"You and your filthy mother were both cowards! You're nothing but weaklings who know how to run!"

Kaelen froze mid-step. The words echoed.

His crimson eyes darkened. In that moment, something primal awakened.

Power surged.

With a clean, swift vertical slash, Kaelen struck Cedric down. The crowd gasped as Cedric stumbled back, stunned. Kaelen didn't stop. Strike after strike landed, not with the frenzy of rage, but with the precision of judgment.

This world doesn't need those who mock the powerless, he thought bitterly. That's what the gods did. That's what Cedric is doing now.

Blood trickled from Cedric's lip. His bruised face contorted in fear as Kaelen raised his sword one final time—but stopped, inches from his brother's throat.

Butler Albern stepped forward, his voice clear and commanding.

"Winner: Kaelen Valemorth. The new heir of House Valemorth."

Gasps and whispers filled the hall.

Kaelen knelt beside Cedric, his voice gentle.

"Forgive me, big brother… I didn't mean to lose control. I'll try to do better."

Then, his tone dropped, colder than steel:

"But if you ever try to harm me again… I will destroy you."

Cedric, trembling, fainted where he lay.

Lord Darian stood, voice echoing across the grand hall.

"Kaelen Valemorth. You have proven your strength and earned your title. Meet me in my study. We will speak of what comes next."

And so, the ceremony ended. But Kaelen's true journey was only beginning.

Scene: The Patriarch's StudyLord Darian Valemorth sat behind an ornate desk, his piercing gaze fixed on his newly appointed heir.

"You've impressed me, Third Son," he said calmly. "I thought a year of being bedridden would've left you fragile, but today's duel proved otherwise."

Kaelen bowed slightly. "Thank you, Father."

Yet within, he couldn't shake the pressure that radiated from his father's mere presence. This man is no ordinary noble… there's real power beneath that calm demeanor. But why would a family patriarch possess such overwhelming strength?

Lord Darian leaned forward. "Now that you're heir, you'll be representing House Valemorth at the Imperial Academy. As such, I wish to grant you a personal gift. Tell me—what do you desire?"

Kaelen's eyes sharpened. This is what I've been waiting for.

"I wish for access to the family's private library," he said. "I want to study our ancient skills and learn the truth of this world."

The patriarch was silent for a moment. Then, with a nod, he drew a small, intricately carved token from his robe.

"This token will grant you one-time access to the inner library. Use your time wisely. Once you leave… you cannot re-enter."

Kaelen accepted it with a bow. "Thank you, Father."

As he left the room, his heart pounded with anticipation.

Scene: The Library of House ValemorthTwo armored guards flanked the towering entrance of the ancient library. As Kaelen approached and presented the token, the soldiers stiffened. They exchanged glances — clearly surprised — but said nothing as they allowed him to pass.

The moment Kaelen stepped inside, the scent of old parchment and ink filled his lungs. Row upon row of tomes and scrolls stretched beyond sight. It wasn't just knowledge… it was a vault of secrets.

He wandered until a thick, leather-bound book caught his eye — marked only with the sigil of an eagle. He opened it slowly and began reading.

Moments later, his breath caught.

"Five hundred years…?" he whispered in disbelief. "It's been five centuries since my death?"

Shock rooted him to the spot. But what he read next ignited fury.

According to the book, five centuries ago, the gods bestowed their powers upon five chosen heroes to save humanity from a great evil — the Demon Lord Zerath Kael'thar. It claimed Zerath had sparked a catastrophic war, one that killed half of humanity… and that these heroes defeated him, saving the world.

"Lies…" Kaelen growled. "Who are these five so-called heroes? What war? What savior narrative is this?"

He turned the pages rapidly, each one fueling his rage.

These heroes, it claimed, went on to establish the Five Great Families, each blessed with divine bloodlines. Together, they ruled under the authority of the Imperial Crown.

But then… something else caught his eye. A name — written not with disdain, but reverence.

Ardyn Velmorth.

His grandfather.

A legendary swordmaster who had refused the gods and their false divinity. A man born of poverty who climbed the ranks through sheer will, eventually creating his own sword style:

Red moon Annihilation.

Unlike the other families, Ardyn never accepted divine gifts. He believed strength was earned — not handed down.

"Strength is not given. It is taken." His words.

Kaelen's fists trembled as he continued reading.

Ardyn had built the independent Valemorth Family with his own hands. It was said he once fought the Imperial Army alone… and won. But then, mysteriously, he vanished — just like the Creator himself.

Another powerful being… gone without a trace? Kaelen thought, his mind racing. What is happening to this world?

He searched deeper.

Near the back of the library, his gaze landed on a dusty, forgotten tome tucked between shelves.

Its cover bore a single phrase:

"Red moon…"

Kaelen's eyes widened.

As he reached for it, a chill spread through the air.

Whatever lay within… might finally reveal the truth about Ardyn — and about himself