The Birth of a Devil

The Demon King Stigma, officially, had seven children. One from an official wife, and the rest from five concubines. Only a few people within the circle of royalty knew about the existence of his eighth son, sired with a slave woman in the household. Not even powerful dukes knew of him. Why didn't they?

In part, it was because of how he was a thorn in Stigma's side. A powerful noble could use the boy as a puppet king in an attempt to rebel against the king. However, that wasn't the most prominent reason. It made sense that it wasn't. After all, since his son was a thorn in his side, why couldn't Stigma just eliminate him, instead of letting him exist as a risk? Was he a kind father, or a morally just person?

Ridiculous.

Good kings are not good people. There are only a few scarce exceptions to this rule in history, and Stigma isn't one of those exceptions.

So then, why?

To look into this answer properly, we have to examine a story from old. It states:

"In a time which dates back more than millennia ago, humans invaded and stole our land from us. Such transgressions against our kind were never forgotten, and within time, we will fight back to reclaim our land. Each King of their generation will summon devil candidates from ancient times, and wage war against those humans who stole our land. One day, when the gates of the Abyss open, our ancestors will ride atop flaming dragons and defeat our enemies. Until then, us, the sons of the Primordial One, will hold on against the fight with the humans."

Now, ignoring the propaganda in that story, there is at least one truth: That the Demon King's of each generation will summon a devil candidate. What is a devil candidate?

To put it simply, 'devil candidates' are simply people with an impressive amount of combat power or potential, armed with something called a (Status Screen). It's unknown if whether or not they truly are warriors from the past, or from somewhere else.

Now, to finally answer the question.

The life of someone with the royal bloodline is required to summon a devil candidate. Because of this, the bastard child of the Demon King, Stigma, was kept alive.

From birth, he was held in the walls of the castle. His only companions were the books in the massive library. Perhaps because of the small amount of kindness left in the Demon King, or maybe negligence, Stigma didn't kill the child's mother right when she gave birth. Although a few years after giving childbirth, that woman died, she did manage to do a few things.

Firstly, she taught her child how to read and write. All her spare time was devoted to her son, excluding the time she used to eat meals and sleep. Ironically enough, even with her loving disposition towards her child, she only remembered to name him on her deathbed. His name was 'Valerius'.

Valerius was taught to conceal his knowledge by his mother when he was young. When his mother died, he worked as a servant, until he reached the age of twelve.

That was when he escaped.

***

On that day, the sun was shining in the sky with a pleasant brightness. The temperature wasn't too hot, but wasn't cold, either. For even slaves, this was a positive thing. Their masters would have better moods, and possibly, even lessen their workloads.

Unfortunately, there was a boy who couldn't experience any of this, as he was locked in a cellar with his arms chained by a type of magic. He looked like a medieval prisoner who was about to get sent to the chopping block. To describe his look, the term 'peasant-like' would perhaps be adequate.

Had he paid attention to his appearance, he probably would've looked, at the very least, above-average. However, his appearance was a scrambled mess. His orange hair which would've looked cool and exciting was scrambled in a mess, with fleas occasionally flying in and out of it. It was also long. Not elegantly so, but rather, vagrant-like.

His eyes held a hardened gaze to them. If one were to be polite, they would say that those were the eyes of a war hero. If they were to be realistic, those were the eyes of a homeless veteran.

The cellar he was in was dark and only illuminated by a simple torch which was held in the hand of the only other person in the room, a middle-aged man. Contrary to the boy, the man had neatly combed black hair which gave him a refined look. He had a majestic aura around him, one that exceeded even nobles. It was indeed befitting of Stigma, the Demon King.

Illuminated from the torch, there was an intricate circle made out of a thick, red liquid covering the entire room. The metallic taste and distinct smell made it clear that it was blood. Inside the circle, there were intricate symbols, numbers, and characters, all of which were also drawn with blood.

This was a magic formation. More specifically, it was the 'World-Transcending Formation'. The World-Transcending formation was one of the most complex magic formations created in the world, and could only be activated by the Demon King of that generation.

Looking at the figure in front of him, Valerius miserably smiled. The air was silent between the father and son. The first one to break the silence was Valerius, who said, "There's no reason to speak to someone who's about to be dead. Correct?"

The figure in front of Valerius slowly nodded. The boy laughed hollowly, continuing, "What happened? Why did you choose today? Are the humans attacking, forcing you to quickly use your trump card to summon that 'devil candidate' or whatever? Or is the greed bestowed by your crown corrupting your mind and telling you to attack, so you can gain even more territory?"

In front of his child's provocations, Stigma didn't bother to reply. Instead, he closed his eyes and began to chant a dreadful hymn. It wasn't of any language that Valerius knew of. Although, he really only knew one language, so that didn't mean much.

The words were chanted with a powerful and ancient tone. With that voice, an invisible pressure that was equally as powerful manifested in the room. It didn't come from Stigma, but rather, from... Valerius, it seemed. The boy stared at the ceiling which covered the skies and sighed.

"So, it's going to end like this?"

At what seemed to be the last moments of his life, the boy didn't have any thoughts of doing something as ridiculous and overturning the heavens, slaughtering all those who wronged him should he gain a chance to live, etc, etc.

Instead, he was overtaken by fear. Instead of being like the protagonists in revenge stories, engraving the faces of their enemies in their mind before death, Valerius closed his eyes and wished for it all to quickly end.

One second passed. Two... Three... Four... Five...

'Huh?'

Valerius felt the pressure around slowly subside, the restraints on his arms disappear and the voice chanting abruptly stop. Then, a *thud* noise. After a second, he opened one eye slightly, and then the other.

It took a few moments for Valerius to process what had happened. He slowly moved his gaze downwards, and then stared with unbelief in his eyes that exceeded even his cowardice.

The Demon King, Stigma, was laying on the ground with a cold expression on his face. Valerius stared at the corpse with a look of disbelief for a while. Then, he kicked it.

"He's truly... Dead? The 39th Demon King himself? The one who reigned over the entire continent with an iron fist? The war leader himself? My... Father?"

His eyes which were full of disbelief thought it was a trick and the boy circled the body. Then, he lightly kicked it. There was no reaction.

Valerius kicked it a few more times. Then, he stomped it. After giving it with a beating using his feet, he finally let out a look of satisfaction, "That felt good."

Then, he began to think, 'What caused this? Did Stigma fail somewhere, causing his death? Or is he just in a coma? Or was it the devil candidate that caused this? But, I don't see any 'devil candidate' anywhere. Anyways, what about the powers that the devil candidate has? Were they transferred to me, since I was the catalyst for the summoning? But I don't feel any bit more powerful... Whatever, these questions will have to wait for later.'

Valerius looked around, scratched his head, and muttered, "I need to escape."

It was obvious, but he didn't realize it until now because of the shock he had felt. He was just about to leave, but then thought of something else and flipped the corpse beneath him upside down.

"Now... Let's see what you have on you, dear Demon King."

He fiddled around with the body, his face with mixed emotions on it. The first thing he reached towards was a sword on his father's belt - it was named Raksal. As legends had it, Stigma had passed the Trial of the Demon Kings, and, along the way, earned the mythical weapon.

Valerius grabbed it, but couldn't make it budge an inch. Decisively, he decided to abandon the weapon. He looked around the body a bit more, and then finally went with a bag of gold coins as well as the cape which his father wore, "This'll probably fetch a good price. Maybe I want to dye it with paint, though, so that no one will recognize it."

He wrapped the gold coins around it and then tied it into a make-shift bag. Valerius had lived his entire life in the castle, so with relative ease, he managed to leave the place with no one noticing.

'The body left there shouldn't be discovered until a week passes. It's normal for Stigma to leave on random trips that last a week or more long.'

The grounds of the Demon Castle stretched throughout the castle and the surrounding thousand-or-so feet.

After escaping, the castle and entering the other bit of territory, Valerius stared at the sky and then laughed.

A strange feeling overcame him. His throat began to feel sore, and his vision became slightly blurred. He wiped at his eye. For some reason, his finger was now wet.

"What's... This?"

While staring at his hand, a few more drops landed on his finger.

"Am I crying? But, why...?"

He continued to tear up, until, finally, he laughed. It was a clear or relieved voice that the type of laugh the last boss of some game would have in a self-reminiscing scene where the audience is supposed to think, 'Well, this guy wasn't so bad after all because of XXX backstory...'

"Ah... I see."

He smiled. The tears began to dry, and

"It was from relief. Relief that I was going to become free..."

Valerius suddenly gripped his fist tightly and then relaxed it. Then, his aura changed into a cold one, "For years, I lived a life of submission. Even the moment before I was going to die, I still bent down to fear. Although I don't know who or what saved me, I'm aware that I didn't deserve such a thing."

He took a deep breath and then began to walk, "Because I don't deserve to live, I will live my life to the fullest. From now on, I swear to live a life where I will never live under the shadow of others. If I stay weak, then the only possible outcome is my inevitable death, caused by my siblings. Or maybe, I might be used as a puppet by nobles trying to succeed to the throne."

At this point, Valerius began to run, "Therefore, I'll do anything in order to live the life I want. Steal, pillage, lie, slaughter, whatever it takes!"

A devilish glint appeared in the youth's eyes.