Fallen Demon Lord

The morning sun spilled its golden light across the estate, illuminating the courtyard in a soft amber glow. A gentle breeze rustled the rosebushes, carrying with it the fragrance of dew-kissed petals. Amidst this tranquil beauty stood Kaelen Velmorth, cloaked in a deep crimson training robe trimmed with black. The fabric clung elegantly to his frame, hinting at the strength forged through tireless discipline.

His jet-black hair, tousled by the wind, glistened like strands of midnight silk under the morning light. But it was his eyes—those mesmerizing red irises that gleamed like rubies—that drew lingering glances. A group of young maids passing by paused mid-step, their cheeks blooming with color. Some shyly looked away, giggling behind gloved hands.

Kaelen furrowed his brow, watching them from the corner of his eye.

"Why are they acting strange? Did I grow horns overnight?" he mused dryly, adjusting his collar.

Brushing aside the confusion, he made his way toward the grand corridor that led to the study of the Family Head.

The Family Head's Office

Behind a heavy oak door carved with the sigil of House Velmorth, Lord Darian sat at his desk, quill in hand, lost in scrollwork. At the knock, he glanced up.

"You may enter."

Kaelen stepped forward and bowed with formality. "Family Head… there is something I wish to request."

Darian leaned back, eyes narrowing with cautious interest. "Speak, boy. What weighs on your mind?"

Kaelen raised his gaze. "I wish to leave the estate—to explore the world beyond these walls. I want a taste of real adventure."

A long silence followed. Darian's features hardened.

"No."

Kaelen blinked, surprised by the swift denial. "May I ask… why not?"

"Because you are still but a child," Darian replied with finality. "Ten years of age—and barely that. In two months, you'll be eleven. You haven't even crossed into adolescence, and yet you speak of venturing into chaos?"

Kaelen clenched his fists. "But—"

"Enough," Darian said, voice cold but firm. "This year, we will hold your coming-of-age banquet. It is our tradition. When noble children reach their tenth year, they are introduced to the inner circle of allied families. You missed yours last year due to your condition. This time, you shall attend—and you shall remain within these grounds."

With that, the conversation was over. Kaelen bowed again and quietly left.

Two Months Later – Training Grounds

Sweat dripped from Kaelen's brow as he wiped it away with a white cloth. In one hand, he gripped a wooden training sword. His chest rose and fell in rhythm, muscles lightly toned from constant effort.

His growth was unmistakable—both in strength and presence.

"I've made good progress," he murmured to himself. "Level One, Stage Eight… but each breakthrough grows more difficult. My body resists the flow of energy, and opening my meridians has become… painful."

He glanced at his calloused hands.

"Seven meridians… and counting."

He stood taller now—his posture more noble, more disciplined. The once-pale, weakened boy had vanished, replaced by someone on the cusp of transformation.

Nearby, a young girl stood watching him—barely ten years old, with twin braids and bright, shy eyes. Her name was Lina, and today marked her first day as his personal maid.

She turned away, cheeks flushing. Kaelen, having removed his upper robe during training, hadn't noticed her arrival.

"Why are you acting all flustered?" he muttered, slipping the shirt back on. "Girls are so strange."

He walked over and stood before her, arms folded. "From today, you're my personal attendant, yes?"

She nodded quickly, voice like a whisper. "Y-Yes, Young Master. I am honored…"

"I hope you're competent," he said bluntly, though not unkindly. "You don't look like someone who can even care for herself."

Lina's large eyes shimmered, and her lips trembled in a small pout.

Kaelen sighed and flicked her forehead gently. "Don't cry now."

"Ow…" she whimpered, crouching with her hands on her head, tears pooling at the corners of her eyes. She looked up, utterly pitiful.

Kaelen gave a half-smile. "Cute."

That Evening – Preparing for the Banquet

"The banquet is tonight," Kaelen muttered as he strolled back to his chambers. "I need a proper bath… and peace of mind."

He turned to Lina. "Go prepare hot water for me. Something relaxing. I need to be sharp for the fools I'll be forced to mingle with."

Lina straightened up. "Yes, Young Master."

She turned to leave, but Kaelen called out, "Eat something first."

She paused. "I cannot. Not until you've had your meal."

"That's ridiculous," he replied, crossing his arms. "You're not a monk. Eat. That's an order."

Lina's eyes sparkled. "Understood!" she said with a blush.

Young Master is so kind…

Kaelen watched her skip off, shaking his head. "This girl's mood swings are dangerous…"

He walked to the window and stared at the sky. Night was falling. Stars were just beginning to peek through the violet dusk.

"The banquet's coming. I don't like crowds. But this… is my life now."

He reached for the crimson robe laid out for the evening.

"Let's see what tonight brings."