Tale Of The Dragonic Demon Lord

Chapter 4

Everyone had seen it.

A frail human, drenched in his own blood, standing over the corpse of a champion undefeated for two years.

For one breathless moment, the entire arena went silent.

Then the stands erupted, shrieks, roars, curses, disbelief. Demons banged on the railings. Some even attacked each other in excitement. The prisoners stared as if witnessing a miracle too cruel to be real.

Raya remembered none of it,. the world had already gone dark.

…

“Argh—!”

Pain dragged him back to consciousness like hooks tearing him upward from a deep pit. His eyes snapped open.

He wasn’t in the same cell.

This one was… cleaner. The floor wasn’t slick with rot. A torch flickered from a brazier, giving off a faint warmth. The walls were reinforced with metal bars instead of decaying stone. For a prison, it almost felt like a reward.

Raya tried to sit up.

His body screamed. Not a single inch of him felt untouched. He clutched his head as a sharp wave of memory tore through him, the arena, the screams, Graax falling, the stump of his left arm gushing blood.

“Finally awake.”

A deep, gravelly voice echoed from beyond the bars.

A demon leaned against the gate, arms crossed, a grin stretching far too wide. Its fangs scraped over its lower lip as it spoke.

“If it isn’t the little human who killed Graax, the champion of two whole years.” The demon chuckled, shaking its head in disbelief. “Hah… you should have seen the faces of the high demons. Priceless.”

Raya ignored the mockery. He looked down at where his left arm should’ve been. The bandages were rough and blood-stained.

“How long… was I out?” he asked quietly.

“Three days,” the demon said. “And lucky for you, champions get a one-week rest before the next arena run.”

The demon’s grin widened into something hungry.

“I can’t wait to see you fight again. Watching you squirm for your life was…”

He licked his lips.

“…delicious entertainment.”

Raya’s jaw tightened. He turned his face away, he didn’t have the energy to argue.

Hours passed…

The demon guard eventually left, bored after failing to get a reaction out of him. The torches outside dimmed into nightfall.

Raya stared at the ceiling, too exhausted to sleep, too sore to move.

He hadn’t survived the arena. He had simply postponed the next death.

His breath trembled.

He leaned back, accidentally pressing his weight against the far corner of the cell,

and the stone shifted beneath him.

‘…what?’

One section of the wall had hairline cracks running across it, almost invisible in dim light.

The stone wasn’t aligned perfectly, someone must’ve repaired it poorly after a previous prisoner tried something desperate.

He pressed his remaining hand against it.

The stone wobbled.

He pushed harder, using his shoulder for leverage. The stone groaned and, after a moment, broke free with a small clatter, tumbling into a narrow passage carved into the wall.

Cold air flowed from it, air carrying the faint scent of incense and burnt metal.

Raya hesitated, but he knew that If he stayed, he would die in the arena.

He slipped into the narrow gap without thinking any further.

The secret passage led into a maze of underground tunnels. Everything was pitch-black. Raya dragged himself along the walls, breathing shallowly. The stone was cold, damp, and uneven beneath his fingers.

He didn’t know where he was going. He only knew he had no choice but to keep moving.

He wandered blindly through the tunnels, each step heavier than the last. His breath came in shallow bursts.

The ground began to slope upward.

Raya used the wall to pull himself forward until the tunnel abruptly opened into a cavern so massive it swallowed sound.

He stopped, a cold shiver rolled through him.

Dozens of towering statues lined the walls, each one depicting a different demon lord from legends, horned, winged, fanged, armored. Their stone eyes glowed faintly with a distant power.

And in the center of the cavern stood the altar.

Carved from black stone. Covered in runes. Chains hanging loosely around it like silent reminders of past sacrifices.

Raya swallowed hard. “What… is this place?”

He stepped closer without intending to, drawn by some invisible pull. His vision blurred, his knees shaking. Blood loss and exhaustion dragged at him like weights.

He tried to turn back, but his leg buckled and he collapsed onto the altar.

His body hit the cold stone with a painful crack. He gasped, rolling onto his back.

The moment his blood smeared across the surface, the runes beneath him flickered weakly, then violently, as if waking from centuries of sleep.

Raya’s breath hitched, “N-No… wait—”

The runes answered him with light.

It surged like lightning, racing up the altar, filling the entire chamber. The statues’ eyes blazed to life, dust shook from the ceiling.

Raya’s vision dimmed.

He felt the life draining out of him as the altar greedily drank his blood, his chest heaved in pain.

‘Is this how it ends? Finally’ He thought to himself and smiled faintly

A final pulse of light slammed through him.

He screamed in pain and agony…

Then there was silence.

Dark energy burst from the altar, swirling like a storm. The statues trembled as a massive shadow rose from the slab, horns, wings, glowing eyes, draconic scales.

Raya’s corpse dissolved into light.

The shadow condensed.

A new body formed.

A new existence.

A new lord.

Raya opened his eyes, they burned molten gold.

A sound echoed inside his mind

[SYSTEM BOOTING…]

[HOST RECONSTRUCTED]

[WELCOME, NEW DEMON LORD.]

The empty cavern shuddered in reverence.