The Strongest Demon Lord Reincarnated as a Commoner

The academy entered a period of strange, tense peace. Luna's power grew daily under the tutelage of the Aqua Regis. Evelyn Blade, though still outwardly stoic, carried herself with a new, less brittle strength, her interactions with Leo now holding a deep, unspoken understanding. Elara and Kaia focused on their own training with renewed vigor, driven by a new understanding of what true strength meant.

The fragile equilibrium was shattered by the arrival of an unexpected and unwelcome envoy.

Grand Inquisitor Valerius, a high-ranking official from the Theocratic Dominion of Sol, the central religious authority of the continent, arrived at Aethelgard with a retinue of Templar Knights. He was a severe, hawk-faced man and, more importantly, he was the head of Elara's main family branch—her great-uncle.

He did not come for a social visit. He strode into the Headmistress's office, his Templars waiting outside, and made his purpose clear.

"Seraphiel," he said, his voice devoid of warmth. "The Dominion has heard disturbing rumors. Of a student wielding power beyond mortal means. Of a legendary artifact gifted to a commoner. Of a mission that uncovered secrets of the Old War." He fixed her with a hard stare. "And of blasphemous talk concerning the so-called 'Demon Lord Azeros'."

The Headmistress remained serene. "The academy handles its own affairs, Inquisitor."

"Not when those affairs threaten the sacred order of the world," the Inquisitor snapped. "The Dominion has decreed that the students involved in the Aeridor incident—Elara von Valerius included—and the priestess Lyra are to be taken to the capital for 'purification and questioning'. And the boy, Leo Vance, is to be surrendered to our custody immediately. He is a heretic of the highest order."

It was not a request. It was a holy decree, backed by the single greatest political and military power on the continent.

At that moment, the door to the office opened. Leo walked in, followed closely by his entire "team." Luna, Kaia, Elara, Lyra, and Morgana stood behind him. Evelyn Blade stood with them, no longer just a commander, but a part of his faction. Even Princess Anya was present, having "coincidentally" been discussing matters with the Headmistress. She had chosen her side.

"I believe," Leo said, his voice calm, "that you were talking about me."

The Grand Inquisitor's eyes widened, then narrowed in fury. "Leo Vance. You dare to intrude upon official Dominion business? You will surrender yourself and your cabal of witches and blasphemers at once!"

His Templar Knights, waiting in the hall, heard the commotion and burst in, their hands on their enchanted swords, their armor glowing with holy power.

Elara paled. "Great-Uncle, you cannot do this! These are my friends!"

"Silence, child!" the Inquisitor spat. "You have been tainted by this heretic's influence. You require cleansing, for the good of your soul and the honor of our family."

The standoff was absolute. On one side, the might of the continent's dominant religion. On the other, a reincarnated god and his burgeoning court of prodigies, legends, and royals.

The Headmistress watched, a faint smile on her lips. The moment of truth had arrived.

"I will not repeat myself," the Inquisitor warned, his hand glowing with holy fire. "Surrender, or be struck down by the light of the gods!"

Leo looked at the fuming Inquisitor. He looked at the nervous but resolute faces of the women standing with him. He saw Luna, ready to wield the power of an ocean for him. He saw Kaia, her hand on her sword, ready to fight an army for him. He saw Elara, defying the head of her own family for him. He saw Lyra's unshakable faith, Morgana's dark power crackling at her fingertips, Evelyn's grim readiness, and Anya's cool, political calculation.

They had all, in their own way, chosen him over the world's established order.

He sighed. It was the deep, weary sigh of a being who had just realized his vacation was well and truly over. His quest for a quiet life had led him to this. To protect the quiet life of not just himself, but of these people who had inexplicably tied their fates to his, he would have to make some noise. A lot of noise.

"You speak of the 'gods'," Leo said, his voice suddenly losing all trace of human weariness and taking on an ancient, resonant authority that made the very air vibrate. "You are referring to the Usurper Kings. The cowardly pantheon that hid while I brought order to the chaos, and then butchered the survivors to steal my legacy."

The Inquisitor's face went white. "Blasphemy!"

"It is not blasphemy," Leo stated, taking a step forward. "It is history."

A faint, golden light began to emanate from him. It was not the holy light of the Templars, which felt hot and judgmental. This was a light that was absolute, pure, and heavy—the light of creation itself. His lazy demeanor fell away completely, replaced by the regal, terrifying presence of a true monarch.

"You come into my home," he continued, his voice now a low rumble that seemed to shake the foundations of the tower, "you threaten my people, and you invoke the name of my enemies."

He looked at the Grand Inquisitor, and his eyes, now glowing with the light of a billion stars, held no anger. They held only the profound disappointment of a creator looking upon a flawed and broken creation.

"Your Dominion, your Inquisitors, your 'gods'... they are all temporary constructs, built on a foundation of lies. They have forgotten the true nature of power."

He raised a hand.

"Allow me to remind you."

He didn't attack the Inquisitor. He didn't attack the Templars. He looked out the grand window of the spire, his gaze directed towards the distant, holy capital of the Theocratic Dominion, hundreds of miles away.

He clenched his fist.

Miles away, in the heart of the holy capital, the Grand Cathedral of the Sun God—a structure that had stood for a thousand years, a symbol of the Dominion's absolute power—crumbled into dust. The central spire, which was said to pierce the heavens, simply ceased to exist. The divine barrier that protected the entire city flickered and died. It all happened in complete, terrifying silence.

Back in the Headmistress's office, the Grand Inquisitor's holy fire sputtered and died in his hand. The sacred amulets worn by the Templar Knights cracked and fell to the floor, now just inert pieces of metal. They had all, simultaneously, been severed from their divine source. Their gods had gone silent.

The Inquisitor stared at Leo, his face a mask of utter, mind-shattering terror. He had felt it. He had felt the connection to his god not just be blocked, but be erased.

"What... what have you done?" he stammered.

"I have knocked on their door," Leo said, his golden eyes still glowing. "I have sent a message. Now, you will deliver my reply."

He turned his gaze back to the terrified men.

"This academy, Aethelgard, is under my protection. These people," he gestured to the women standing behind him, "are under my protection. Anyone, be they king, inquisitor, or god, who seeks to harm them will answer to me. This continent no longer belongs to the liars on their golden thrones. It has a new master."

He looked at each of the women, his gaze lingering on them for a moment. He saw their shocked, awestruck, and adoring faces. He had just declared war on the entire world for them.

"My name is Azeros," he declared, his voice echoing with the weight of ages. "But you may call me Leo Vance, Head of the Aethelgard Unaffiliated Free Territory. Now... get out of my school."

The Inquisitor and his powerless Templars scrambled out of the room, fleeing for their lives.

In the silence that followed, Leo's golden glow faded, and he let out another long-suffering sigh, running a hand through his hair. "This is going to generate so much paperwork," he muttered.

The women behind him didn't hear his complaint. They were still reeling from his declaration. He hadn't just protected them. He had claimed them. He had claimed the entire academy. He had drawn a line in the sand against the entire world, placing them all safely on his side.

The shipping wars were over. The question of who would win his heart was irrelevant.

They were all his.

And in that moment, none of them had a single complaint about that. The shy genius, the proud noble, the fierce warrior, the devoted priestess, the seductive witch, the stoic commander, and the cunning princess—they had all found their King. And the age of the Silent King was truly about to begin.