Growing Horns

Hello, it's me, Zilvagias, the demon prince who's been living comfortably for the past five years... and recently, I suddenly started growing horns, which explains the headaches.

Five years have passed since my rebirth.

Between studying, learning demon martial arts, and "exploring" the castle (basically running laps), I've been honing both mind and body while sharpening my rebellious instincts. And then, one day, it happened.

I had been feeling a throbbing pain in my temples—different from the kind I get when Sophia punches me—so I went to bed. When I woke up, I found my pillow soaked with blood.

And then I realized what was wrong. Horns.

Small, but unmistakably demonic horns had sprouted from both sides of my head.

"Congratulations, young master! No, I suppose I should now call you Lord Zilvagias!" Sophia clapped her hands in celebration as she entered the room to wake me, finding me stunned, holding my horns in disbelief.

She was the same as always—but for some reason, I couldn't respond.

I could sense it—magic swirling around her.

No, more than that... I realized that Sophia herself was a mass of magic. Her body wasn't truly a physical form but rather an unnatural container forcing chaotic energy into a specific shape.

Ah, now I get it.

That's why demons explode to some degree when they die... Their "forms" break apart, releasing the energy trapped within.

Scholars often said demons were closer to spirits, and now that made perfect sense. They're fundamentally different from us living beings.

"...Oh? You can sense it now, can't you, Lord Zilvagias?"

Sophia grinned mischievously and, with a theatrical flourish, spread her arms like a magician revealing a trick.

From her palms, magic poured out and formed cuneiform-like demonic letters in the air—spelling out, "Congratulations on graduating from being hornless!"

This was the first time I could so clearly perceive magic, even including my previous life.

So this is what the world looks like to high-level magic users or beings like forest elves and dragons, whose lives revolve around magic.

Horns were known to be crucial sensory organs for demons, but I had no idea they made such a difference. The world I saw now was completely different from the one I'd known.

"Oh, Lady Platifia will be so pleased! It's so early too! Most demons don't grow their horns until they're around eight or nine years old, sometimes even ten," Sophia continued, but I barely heard her.

I was coming to grips with the reality—

I really had been reborn as a demon, not a human.

Up until now, I could forget about it when I was busy with something, but that was impossible now. The world I perceived had fundamentally changed.

...And also, the fact that I can't sleep on my side anymore is kind of a bummer.

I've never been able to fall asleep lying on my back...

†††

"Marvelous! Growing horns at five years old? That must be a first!"

Platifia was overjoyed.

I could already imagine her rushing to boast to the other prince's mothers. Watching her with a cool gaze, I extended my senses toward her magic.

It was strong.

As expected of the Demon Lord's wife, she had the strength of a true high-ranking demon. Compared to the swirling winds of magic that surrounded Sophia, Platifia's presence was like solid rock—steadfast and unshakable. That's probably because she has a physical body. It makes her magic more stable, for better or worse.

"Congratulations, Lord Zilvagias!"

"Congratulations!"

I turned to the familiar servants in the corner of the room, offering their congratulations.

The little imp maid, a familiar face, seemed rather... insignificant. If Sophia were a lion, the imp was more like a rabbit. I'd need at least a hundred of her to stand a chance against Sophia.

And the beastman servant? Even less reliable. Physically, they should be stronger than imps, but in terms of magic, they seemed fragile, as if a gust of wind could blow them away. It's easy to see why demons look down on the lower races... and humans probably rank about the same.

Lastly, the night elves... they were weaker than I expected. They might be slightly stronger than the beastmen, but only just.

These night elves were said to be descendants of those exiled from the forest elf tribes.

Long ago, the forest elves worshipped spirits, living in harmony with nature and its creatures. But eventually, some elves grew dissatisfied with their strict naturalism. These dissidents began hunting for sport and reshaping the land to suit their needs, which led to a fierce conflict with the naturalist elves. After a brutal civil war, they were exiled from their ancestral forests.

In losing the spirits' favor, their magic weakened, and their lifespans shortened. Fueled by hatred for the forest elves and their spirits, they turned to the dark gods, renaming themselves the "Night Elves."

Now, they're practically a different race. Where the forest elves are magically powerful and bronzed by the sun, the night elves are pale, weak in magic, and shun sunlight.

While night elves can't match the forest elves in magic, they have adapted to the darkness and can sense heat with their crimson eyes. They also surpass forest elves in practical combat archery.

...Though, with magic like the forest elves wield, you don't really need to rely on a bow, do you?

In any case, the night elves dream of reclaiming their lost magic and lifespan through vengeance on the forest elves, offering their blood to the dark gods. This common goal makes them allies to the demon race, which wages war on other species.

Their bloodlust and their pale skin make them natural allies to the demons, with whom they share a close, if tenuous, relationship.

On the surface, at least.

"Congratulations," the night elves said, offering me smiles that felt rather hollow.

Though the demons have favored the night elves since the founding of the Demon Kingdom, they also secretly look down on them for their weak magic, referring to them as "hornless" behind their backs.

Despite their similar natures and appearances, the night elves' lack of horns—and thus their weaker magic—makes them objects of disdain among demons.

And, of course, demons also see the horned devils as near equals, further widening the gap.

"Congratulations," the night elves continued, clapping along with the others. But what were they truly thinking as they gazed upon my horns, the very symbol of immense magic?

Their feelings were unclear.

But one thing I do know—

The Demon Lord's army is anything but united.

"Once again, congratulations, Zilvagias. Your perspective on the world must have changed," Platifia said, fanning herself as she spoke.

"You're now strong enough to protect yourself. Until now, we've kept your movements restricted, but you'll be able to act more freely from now on."

"Protect myself...?"

I tilted my head in confusion.

It was true that my movements had been heavily restricted. I'd barely left the castle, and even within its walls, many areas were off-limits. I hadn't even been allowed into the palace where the Demon Lord and my older siblings resided.

The reason given was that it was "too dangerous." They claimed that other princes and their families might make a move against me.

But what does growing horns have to do with protecting myself?

What, do demons literally butt heads to settle disputes?

"Let me show you the benefits of growing horns, Zilvagias."

Platifia smiled mysteriously as she snapped her fan shut.

Suddenly, her magic surged out of her body, flooding the room.

"Submit."

A voice—or something like it.

A crushing pressure filled the room, turning the air into something thick and suffocating.

There was an undeniable force behind it. Instinctively, I erected a magical barrier around myself.

Anyone who has ever fought against the Demon Lord's army is taught this technique. The concept of enveloping oneself in a transparent shell to ward off magic and curses.

And I was surprised at how easily I could do it now that I had horns. My body felt light.

Moreover, I realized that I was truly controlling magic for the first time. The hazy feeling I had when manipulating magic in my past life was completely gone. It was like trying to write with your eyes closed versus having perfect sight. The difference was that stark.

My barrier was strong, and I knew it because I could sense it clearly.

I glanced at the servants. The beastman was lying flat, his fur standing on end. The night elves seemed to be barely enduring the pressure, while the imp made a face as if something stank. Sophia, as usual, looked completely unfazed.

"—Wonderful!"

Platifia beamed with delight, her eyes sparkling.

"You didn't even flinch in the face of my true power. How wonderful!"

The suffocating pressure vanished, and the room returned to normal. The beastman servant slowly got to his feet, gasping for breath, and the night elves exhaled in relief.

"As expected of my child, Zilvagias. Even without horns—even as a baby—you had an unusually strong will."

...Something about her phrasing bothered me.

And that overwhelming magic just now...

It felt... familiar.

—You will become the Demon Lord, Zilvagias.

Those words she'd repeated to me so often...

They were a curse.

A curse meant to mold me into the next Demon Lord.

Realizing this sent a chill down my spine.

"If you can withstand my power, you'll be fine. Even if you enter the palace, no one will be able to destroy you. Oh, I'm so glad you're strong! A prince who hides behind magic wards would be the laughingstock of the kingdom!"

Platifia laughed gleefully, clearly in a great mood.

"I might move up the schedule a little. You'll soon meet Lord Goldgias—His Majesty, the Demon Lord. Isn't that exciting, Zilvagias?"

...

I am a hero.

I have no fear of facing the Demon Lord.

The thought that I might finally get close to the one I despise, the one I must defeat, filled me with exhilaration.

But... just a little bit... I hope you'll forgive me for feeling a tiny bit anxious.

Even when I stormed the Demon Lord's castle, I had my trusty sword, shield, and protective wards with me.