The Second Life of Demon King

Episode 3: The Embedded Awareness

Isaac, though still a baby, was unlike other children. His sharp eyes could not be hidden, and his constantly active mind was clearly mismatched with his tiny body. Amid the bustle of the house and the laughter of his parents, he preferred to remain silent, watching, and thinking about everything he saw.

"He’s different, isn’t he?" his mother whispered softly to his father, watching him as he sat in the cradle. Isaac, with his big, dark eyes, stared at his mother without blinking. "I feel... like he already knows everything."

His father smiled faintly, appearing more serious. "Our child, besides being smart, seems to have great potential."

Isaac listened to them; his small body could only squirm, but his mind worked far faster than it appeared. They didn’t know that I’m more than just a baby. I am Maximus Bloodthorn, the Demon Overlord reborn...

However, despite his mind being full of strong memories from the past, his frail body limited every movement. It felt like controlling someone else’s body; this human form was like a prison. Mana... I should be able to feel it. But why... why can’t I summon it like I used to?

As his mother bent down to feed him, Isaac pondered. His small hands moved, trying to sense the flow of energy. But... nothing. Only emptiness pressing in. Only the silence that deepened his frustration. The mana... it’s gone.

On the other side of the house, his father was practicing with a sword. Isaac often observed him, sitting patiently, his small body wrapped in soft cloth, but his eyes always scanning his father’s every move. His father's hand movements were sharp and precise, though they didn’t involve magic, they looked like perfect art.

"Come on, Isaac," his father whispered, lifting the sword with a smooth cutting motion. "See, this is called agility." He cast a hopeful glance toward Isaac. "One day, you’ll master it."

Isaac nodded slowly. No words left his lips, but in his sharp mind, he observed his father's movements. This is different... but there’s something I can learn. The toughness of the human body, discipline, and... resilience. That’s power, just in a different form.

Meanwhile, his mother gazed at him lovingly, her hand gently touching Isaac’s cheek. "Don’t worry, dear. You’ll grow up to be someone extraordinary. We’ll help you."

Isaac felt a strange feeling creeping into him—a feeling he couldn’t identify. Love. Care. A bond that was deeply human. But that’s not what I need... I won’t be stopped by these things. I need power.

Yet, in the same night’s silence, Isaac began to feel a change. In the stillness, as the world seemed to fall asleep, he tried to feel the flow of energy that once felt so familiar—mana. Slowly, behind the depth of the emptiness that felt so foreign, he sensed a weak vibration, almost undetectable.

What is this? he thought. Not the mana I know, but something... softer, more natural. This is the power of this world, not the demon world.

Isaac’s eyes opened wider, surprised by what he felt. Maybe this is what they call natural energy... or something like that. So faint, but... it’s there.

In the corner of his room, a small shadow moved swiftly, darting from one place to another—a reflection of his deeper self. I have to master this. I must learn to manipulate this energy if I want to rise back to the top.

Isaac lifted his small hand, staring intently at his palm. As he focused on every second of energy movement within him, he knew this body wouldn’t allow him to control the world with the same power. I’ll start with this. There’s no other way.

"Isaac?" his mother’s soft voice called. Isaac turned to find his mother standing at the doorway, her expression full of concern. "What are you thinking about, dear?"

Isaac shrugged. Though his body couldn’t speak yet, his sharp and intense eyes answered, giving his mother the assurance that something significant was happening in his mind.

His mother smiled, though with a hint of worry. "You must really want to grow quickly, huh? Don’t worry, everything will come in time."

Isaac felt that strange feeling return for a moment, but this time, he was more certain. I will find a way to master this world, and I will do it in a way they can’t imagine. I... won’t give up.

Outside the room, his father seemed to watch Isaac from a distance, his sharp eyes observing his son, who was struggling with his new fate. Isaac, what are you really thinking?

With Maximus’s power trapped in a human body, Isaac knew that this journey would be long and full of challenges. But one thing was certain—nothing would stop him. Not the weak human body, and not this world full of limitations.

Autumn arrived with a gentle breeze and the scent of wet earth. Golden and orange leaves fell like a blanket celebrating the age of the Ackerman manor. Beneath a large oak tree at the edge of the yard, Isaac sat—or rather, flopped gracefully—on a wool blanket. His tiny hand reached for a fallen leaf, then let it go without a sound.

“Hmph. Even a leaf is free to fly, while I'm trapped in this squishy child’s body.” Maximus Bloodthorn’s voice echoed in his mind, full of frustration.

But outwardly, Isaac only looked like a child observing nature. Calm. Gentle. Far too adorable.

“Isaac!” That gentle call came from Lady Evelyn, his mother. She jogged over with a milk bottle and an extra blanket. Her cream-colored gown fluttered in the wind.

“My handsome boy must be cold, huh?” Evelyn knelt beside him and wrapped Isaac carefully in the blanket.

Isaac stared at her blankly. But in his mind?

“This woman is too warm… I would’ve burned down half a kingdom in the past just for a hug like this.”

“I didn’t expect you to grow up this cute,” Evelyn muttered, pinching his cheek.

“Cute?” Isaac sighed internally. “I once led a legion of demons and scorched three continents. Now I’m... cute?”

In the distance, the clinking of metal echoed. Reinhardt Ackerman, the father, was training with a longsword in the yard. His stiff muscles resembled stone statues—strong, rugged, and battle-worn.

Isaac studied his every move. His father’s steps were steady. His sword swings—heavy and precise. The technique wasn’t from any elite academy, but it was efficient. Practical. Real.

“He’s no glamorous knight posing on a balcony. He’s a true warrior.” Isaac made a mental note. “This man… I could train him further—if only I could speak.”

Reinhardt glanced toward his son. “Look at Isaac, watching me train like that.”

“His first hero must be his dad,” Evelyn replied with an amused smile.

“If he were a normal boy, maybe,” Reinhardt said, wiping his sweat. “But he’s too... calm. Like he’s evaluating an enemy.”

Isaac nearly choked on air.

“Good. Father’s getting suspicious. Reduce eye contact. Focus on the leaf. Yes, the leaf is fascinating.”

Suddenly, a crow landed on the branch above. Its eyes glowed red for a second—not a natural color. Isaac stiffened.

“That’s… not a normal bird. A scouting familiar. Who dares send one into this remote territory?”

Evelyn didn’t notice the threat. She simply waved at the crow. “Oh! What a pretty bird!”

Isaac frowned. The mana around him stirred. Just a little. But he could feel it. He stared sharply at the crow. The crow stared back. A few seconds passed… then it flew away.

Isaac snorted in his mind. “Someone’s watching me. Sooner than expected.”

A few servants passed by, carrying baskets of apples and flowers. They greeted Lady Evelyn politely. One of them, a skinny young man named Felix, glanced curiously at Isaac.

“That child… gives me the creeps sometimes,” he whispered to the one beside him.

Evelyn turned. “What did you say, Felix?”

“Uh—nothing, milady! I just said... he’s very, uh, observant! Smart!”

Isaac grinned inwardly. “Exactly. Keep thinking I’m a weird kid. That’ll make you stay away.”

A few days later...

In the manor’s reading room, Reinhardt sat on an old wooden chair, writing a letter. Isaac sat on his lap, pretending to chew on a feather quill.

“You know, son,” Reinhardt murmured, “I never really knew how to be a father. Mine was harsh. Stingy with words. I swore I wouldn’t be like him.”

Isaac stayed quiet. Simply listened. Maximus didn’t interrupt this time.

“I don’t know if you can understand me yet,” Reinhardt continued softly, “but you’re the first to make me think about the future. Not war.”

Isaac gripped the quill tightly. For a second, his eyes flickered.

“Fool. Why are you making this complicated, human?”

That night, Isaac sat in his crib. Outside the window, stars sparkled over the Eldoria sky. He gazed up with a serious face.

“This body is slow,” Maximus whispered in his thoughts. “But my mind… my mind is still mine.”

He raised his tiny hand, trying to sense mana in the air. His fingertip trembled, like touched by a faint current.

“I can do it. Just a little, but I can.”

The bedroom door creaked open. Evelyn entered with a blanket. She saw Isaac sitting alone in his bed, staring out the window.

“Awake again?” she whispered, then scooped him up and hugged him tightly.

“Sorry, sweetheart. This world feels too cold sometimes, huh?”

Isaac didn’t resist. He let himself be wrapped in warmth.

“Sometimes… I think you’re not an ordinary child,” Evelyn murmured. “But that’s okay. Because you’re my child.”

Isaac closed his eyes.

“Don’t get soft. Don’t get comfortable. You don’t belong to this world. Remember that.”

And yet, deep within the part of his heart that was beginning to be touched by humanity… a small voice quietly replied:

“But… just for a moment… maybe it’s okay.”