Chapter 1: The Day the Demon King Was Born

"Siduri." 

The Golden King sat on his throne, his left foot unconsciously sliding off his right knee. 

Gilgamesh, the proud and wise king, looked unusually unsettled. His ruby-red eyes were opened so wide they trembled, a cold sweat sliding down his forehead. The stone tablet in his hand almost slipped. 

It was as if he was trying desperately to make sense of something far away, straining to see it clearly, only for the image to grow increasingly distorted. The absurdity of his expression made even Siduri, standing nearby, tense with unease. 

"What… what's wrong, my king?" 

"I can't see it." Gilgamesh spoke gravely. 

"Eh?" 

"It's completely gone! Can you imagine? What I could barely make out before has vanished entirely! It's like someone plastered eighteen layers of mosaic on an indecent picture—turning it into a crude, blurry mess!" 

Gilgamesh's eyes burned with anger. "If it were just disappearing, that would be one thing. I could accept that. But do you know what I saw instead?!" 

"My king, what are you saying? What is a mosaic?" Siduri, watching the veins bulge on Gilgamesh's forehead, stepped back fearfully. 

"It's twisted! Everything is twisted! Whether it's that unreliable goddess or anyone else! Damn it! It's one thing to meddle, but to deliberately show me this? Such audacity—what a provocation—" 

Gilgamesh suddenly fell silent. 

"Apologies. I may have been too hasty." 

He gently set down the tablet and rose from the throne, stepping forward. 

"No, not at all." Siduri bowed and followed him out of the grand hall. 

"But what could have happened for this singularity to distort so drastically… Has something extraordinary appeared in this world?" 

As dawn's light illuminated his face, Gilgamesh seemed to sense something. He lifted his gaze to the eastern sky. 

From the horizon came a faint yet steadfast light. High above the heavens, a lone shining star radiated a brilliance unlike any other, piercing and unprecedented. 

---

Beneath the dense canopy of towering cedar trees, the first rays of dawn were blocked, leaving the forest briefly cradled in darkness. Weak beams of light filtered through needle-like leaves, struggling to illuminate the patches of ground exposed from the shadows. 

Deep within the shadowy forest, a pitch-black "lake" lay quietly surrounded by jagged rocks. 

*qra—qra—* 

Shrill cries echoed through the dim woods, accompanied by the sound of wings flapping. Six jet-black crows descended, each perching at different points around the lake's edge. 

*qra—qra—qra—!* 

The cries grew more urgent as the viscous black water began to writhe. The ground caved in, causing the six trees around the lake to topple eastward. Then, a dazzling star appeared directly above the lake. 

A bolt of lightning struck down from the heavens, plunging straight into the lake. The water trembled, and the surrounding soil was drawn inward. 

The black water transformed into fur; the soil into a torso, limbs, and hands. A beast was born. It crouched on all fours, its body covered in black, glossy fur, its head buried in mud, adorned with massive horns. 

The light of the star illuminated the beast, casting shifting shadows around it. The muddy body tore apart, and the shadows began to change, as though trying to escape elsewhere. 

Black water filled the gaping wounds, restoring the beast's form, only for it to be torn apart again. This cycle repeated endlessly. Each time, one shadow merged into the beast's body, going through billions of transformations in mere moments. 

After several breaths, all the shadows had fused into the beast, coloring its limbs and body. 

At the end, the beast stood in human form. Its fur and horns shed away, vanishing before they could touch the ground, leaving only hair and brows. 

The black lake dried up completely, leaving the beast—now a man—kneeling in the mud. He stirred. 

"——" 

He emitted strange syllables, like the cries of a newborn, raspy yet more akin to the roar of a young predator. 

"■■■■——" 

One of the six crows fell from its perch, and the man's voice gained form. 

A second crow fell, and his voice gained meaning. 

A third crow fell, and he learned to raise his arms and stand upright. 

A fourth crow fell, and he acquired wisdom. 

A fifth crow fell, and he lifted his head to gaze directly at the sun. 

By the time the sixth crow had fallen, the man's eyes held divinity, and he began to think. 

"Who… am I?" 

It was not confusion about himself, but a question about the nature of this body, of the "self" born here and now. 

The ground beneath his feet began to collapse, and the star overhead dimmed, losing its luster. 

Ignoring his imminent fall, the man stood tall, as if seeing a divine light descending from the heavens. In an instant, he understood—this existence was undoubtedly his own. 

"Ah—ah—!" 

He lamented, cried, raged, and laughed. 

"So filthy, I must be something unworthy of acceptance… And yet, and yet, I am overjoyed! Finally, finally, I have the chance to fulfill this wish—" 

He raised his arms high, shouting: 

"This isn't out of love for others. It is purely my selfish desire, only to satisfy my own wish—" 

"So this is it. I am, I am—" 

"■■■!" 

As realization struck, he saw a flame ignite in the void. The fire leapt to his side, engulfing his body. In an instant, the flames became violent, spreading outward from him. 

The fire consumed the mud, the land, and the cedars. Yet it was not satisfied, scorching even the air, freely invading every corner of space. 

The forest turned into a sea of fire. Though the blaze raged, it did not expand beyond its bounds, emitting neither light nor heat as it burned silently. 

For seven days and seven nights, the fire burned. Finally, on another morning as the morning star passed overhead, it extinguished. 

When the man emerged from the flames, his long black hair had been burned short, turned white. His deep eyes had been seared, dyed gold. He donned silvery-white armor, though he bore no weapon. 

He opened his right hand, clenched it tightly, and smiled. 

"I am Enochius Sarophiel, the innocent harmful being. And I am the Messiah, the one destined to bring salvation to this world." 

The Demon King—Enochius—gazed at the heavens through his open fingers and spoke thus. 

---

"This is the price of your desire to commit evil. The fire will scorch your flesh and burn your soul, bringing you unbearable pain. If you repent, you will be spared. But if you persist, after seven days, I shall turn my gaze from you, leaving you to your fate."