The Demon King Who Raised A Hero

Chapter 6

The courtyard was empty.

Not because the city slept—it never truly slept but because the world was watching, and I could feel it. Every heartbeat, every breath of Eron’s, every flicker of energy inside me had threads reaching out into the heavens, twisting, probing, and measuring.

The Watch is divine, relentless, and omnipresent.

And today… I would lie.

Not a small lie. A deliberate, conscious falsehood aimed at the eyes that thought they could see everything.

I inhaled, feeling the ember stir beneath my chest. My demonic core remained sealed—but alive, aware, like a beast pacing inside a cage. The seal had never responded to lies. Not fully. Not deliberately, but it had limits. Today, I will test them.

“Eron,” I said quietly, keeping my tone casual, “do you feel anything?”

He looked at me, brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“The… presence,” I said, gesturing subtly with my eyes. “Something is watching us. Always.”

His gaze flicked upward instinctively, and the divine threads in the air shimmered faintly, quivering as though they could hear my thoughts.

“You mean… the gods?” he asked.

I smiled thinly. “Yes. That’s what they call themselves. But they’re… curious, more than omniscient.”

He hesitated. “Curious… about what?”

I crouched slightly, voice soft but commanding. “About us, about what you can do and about what I will allow.”

Eron’s chest rose and fell rapidly. “I—Kael, what exactly can I do?”

I could see the threads above us shift. The Watch had latched on to him, sensing my hesitation. I closed my eyes for a moment and let my seal stir—not fully, but enough that its presence coiled around my soul, testing my control.

Response confirmed, I thought. They notice me, but they don’t fully understand.

I straightened, deliberately smiling at the boy. “You’re nothing special. Just a trainee, like any other.”

The words left my mouth, calm, almost bored. But inside… the ember roared. It flared, testing limits. I had lied to the gods. Fully. Completely. My seal reacted—alive, curious, adjusting. The Watch above paused, as if sensing the deviation.

It worked.

Eron blinked. “Nothing special?” he repeated, doubt flickering across his features.

“Yes,” I said firmly. “Don’t overthink it. You’re here to survive, not to shine.”

His shoulders sagged slightly with Relief or confusion. Perhaps both. Perfect.

The morning sun burned higher, and the trial’s start approached. The courtyard shifted subtly—knights and attendants taking their positions, divine sigils painting the ground. This was no ordinary trial. Sabotage was inevitable. Someone would try to control or eliminate the chosen boy before he even stepped into the first test.

I led Eron toward the preparation area. He walked a step behind me, eyes darting nervously. The Watch followed every step, every twitch of his muscles.

I whispered, barely audible above the ambient sounds of clinking armor, “Remember this: your body obeys me, your mind obeys you, and together you control what they see. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” he whispered back. But I could feel his tension. Perfect.

The trial began with a ceremonial bow to the High Priest Valther, whose golden robes gleamed under the morning sun. The other chosen were lined up across the courtyard, each one tense, uncertain, waiting for the first divine test.

I held back, watching Eron and the Watch above shift again. Something had noticed the subtle manipulation, but it didn’t strike. Not yet.

The first trial involved the “Crucible of Reflection”—a test designed to assess strength, resilience, and obedience simultaneously. Weapons were real, but controlled; illusions would force chosen souls to confront themselves.

As Eron stepped forward, I felt my seal stir again.

The temptation to break it, to test limits fully…

I resisted, I had to. Not fully just enough.

A sudden shimmer in the air signaled the start. The ground trembled. Eron’s eyes widened. Every nerve in his body flared. The Watch above latched on tighter, sensing the surge.

I whispered again, unseen, unrecorded: “Do not fight what is coming. Not yet. Let them believe they control it.”

The first illusion appeared—a giant shadow of a demon, grotesque, writhing, teeth like jagged mountains. The chosen screamed, some stumbling backward, some frozen with terror.

Eron’s chest rose sharply. He gripped his wooden sword. The divine mark on his chest flared slightly. Not much but just enough for the gods to notice.

I felt it. The Watch’s attention sharpened.

“Hold it,” I ordered silently. Hold the light inside you.

Eron’s breathing quickened. He lifted the sword. The shadow lunged.

I let my seal stir slightly more, letting a fraction of my demonic power coil around us—not to attack, not to protect, but to anchor. My hand itched to touch him, to infuse strength, but I held back. The gods must believe this is all him.

The shadow’s form dissolved under the intensity of Eron’s light. He hadn’t fully understood what he was doing, but it was enough to make the illusion falter. The Watch above recoiled slightly.

I smiled inside.

Yes, I noticed but misinterpreted.

The next phase involved the Saboteurs—divine agents embedded in the trial, tasked with eliminating anomalies before they could advance. One moved toward Eron, blade gleaming unnaturally, aimed directly for his chest.

I acted.

Not fully. Just enough. A flicker of shadow energy, coiling beneath my seal, deflected the blade slightly. Not enough to harm the saboteur. Enough to make the gods think it was part of the illusion.

Eron faltered. The sword shook in his hands. I stepped behind him. Whispered, “You are in control. Only you.”

He nodded, grip tightening. The next swing of his sword, powered partially by his innate divine talent and partially by instinctive resonance with my suppressed demonic energy, shattered the saboteur’s approach completely.

The courtyard erupted. Gasps. Whispered curses. Divine threads twisted violently, confused, measuring the anomaly.

I gritted my teeth. They sensed the deviation. They know I interfered—but not how much.

Eron looked at me, wide-eyed. “Kael… I did it!”

“Yes,” I said softly, voice tight. “But they are watching every move, every heartbeat and if they sense your power… they will strike.”

The godlike presence above stirred. Threads of divine energy spun faster. The Watch recoiled, uncertain. Something had triggered the system.

Eron’s chest glowed faintly, the mark pulsing like a heartbeat. “Kael… what did I do?”

“You survived,” I said, stepping closer. “And that is all that matters—for now.”

But I felt the ember stir violently. The seal reacted. Alive, aware, hungry.

Something the Watch could not fully touch and Something they had never recorded before.

And I realized, as the god above lowered itself, the golden robes flaring in the sun:

They know. They know exactly what is happening.

And worse…

They are coming for it and for us.

Kael lies successfully to the Watch for the first time, partially unleashing his demonic core’s influence while letting Eron display his burgeoning divine talent. The gods immediately sense the anomaly, preparing to intervene—setting up the next chapter for confrontation, testing limits, and high-stakes survival.