Demon Prince Zilvagias

Hello, I'm the former hero Alexandru, now reborn as the demon prince Zilvagias.

It's been a while since I was reborn. At first, my consciousness as "me" was clear, but then I started feeling sleepy all the time, and my emotions were difficult to control. It was exhausting.

The scariest part was when I zoned out and started losing track of who I was.

—Wait, who am I again?

Once that thought crossed my mind, it felt like my memories were slipping away, and I was on the verge of forgetting everything. It was like remembering a dream right after waking up, only for it to fade away moments later.

I am the hero Alexandru. No matter what anyone says, I am Alexandru the Hero...! I repeat this to myself, even as I'm drinking milk.

Anyway, enough about my life as a baby. Let me summarize what I've learned during my time at the Demon Lord's Castle.

First of all, it seems two years have passed since the assault on the castle. That means it's been two years since the Demon Lord killed me. Every member of the strike team was wiped out, and as you can guess, the Demon Lord is still alive and well. The mission was a complete failure.

The Allied Human Forces have continued to lose. Since the Demon Lord is alive, his army remains strong. The allied nations have been steadily losing ground, and while I've been busy being a baby, a small country in the center of the continent was wiped off the map.

Damn it.

It appears I'm the seventh prince. The Demon Lord has seven heirs, including me. The eldest son is around seventy years old, and the eldest daughter is about fifty. After that, there's a string of siblings with a ten-year gap between each. Demons live for around 300 years, not as long as elves, but they don't have children easily. Having a child every ten years is pretty fast for them.

However, since I'm the seventh child, it seems no one really cares about me. I haven't seen the Demon Lord since the day I was born. His remark about "the more heirs the better" and his indifferent attitude made that clear.

That's about all the information I've gathered. Not much? Give me a break, I'm just a baby. I spend my days eating and sleeping, so there's a limit to how much I can learn.

"Oobu-baah… Bonbaa (What should… I do?)"

I ponder to myself in the cradle.

Why was I reborn as a demon? I don't know the reason, but I can't waste this situation. My body may be that of a demon, but my heart is still that of a hero.

—What can I do?

"...Baboo (Baboo)."

Damn it, thinking isn't my strong suit. I'm a hero! When the Pope yells, "Go kill them!" I answer, "Yes sir!" and rush through the battlefield, slaughtering humanity's enemies! That's what I'm good at!

With nothing else to do, I start rocking my cradle. It's made of bone, and I try not to think too hard about the fact that the parts look suspiciously like human skulls and femurs.

I mean, sure... humans do make trophies out of their hunting successes. But no matter how much they hate demons, no human would make furniture out of demon bones… especially not a baby's cradle.

Maybe, to the demons, it's like displaying a hunting trophy. They look down on other races, after all. "Hey, I killed a strong human! Oh, I know, I'll make a baby's cradle out of its bones!" Something like that.

Which means, this cradle might have once belonged to some famous warrior… Damn it, I can't forgive demons! I'll destroy them all!

"Bobaah, buubabaa (I am a hero)."

I raise my hand toward the ceiling.

My chubby little arm is blue and pudgy. But if I train it, these arms will turn into muscular, steel-like weapons. As much as I hate to admit it, demons are far stronger than humans. Their physical strength and endurance are unmatched, and their magical power rivals that of elves.

And to top it off, this body carries the blood of the Demon Lord.

Who knows how much potential is locked inside me—

"Bobbaa! (Alright!)"

I've made up my mind.

I'm going to kill the Demon Lord!

With my warrior brain, there's only so much I can do. All I can do is fight. I'll train my body, hone my skills, and make sure the next surprise attack on the Demon Lord succeeds.

I'll make it happen—revolution!

I clench my pudgy little hand into a fist.

"...Ho-gya!"

Just making that decision is getting me pumped up.

Actually… I think I'm about to cry.

"...Uuwaaaa, Uuwwaaaa!"

Oh, wait.

I'm just hungry!

Feed me! Feed me!

As I cry uncontrollably, a demon nurse rushes over.

"Yes, yes, young prince, it's time for your milk."

"Baboo…"

And so, with my stomach full, I drift off to sleep, vowing once more to defeat the Demon Lord...