They crossed the border at dawn.
Kael felt it before he saw it. The air changed. Softer, warmer, carrying the scent of damp earth and unfamiliar flowers. The black rocks faded behind them, replaced by rolling meadows of deep green. The trees lining the road had broad, silver leaves that rustled without wind.
Then the sky opened.
A vast gradient of purple and gold stretched above them, as if the sun refused to fully set. The light bathed the hills in a warm, almost unreal glow. Dark-plumed birds crossed the clouds, their deep songs echoing among the trees.
Kael slowed his horse.
He knew this place. He had left it without a backward glance, ten years ago. And he found it again as if he had never forgotten it.
"Welcome to the Neverdie Realm," said Drakk.
Kael did not answer immediately. He gazed at the meadows, the distant forests, the rivers that shone like silver veins. Every detail came back to him. The low hills, the flowering hedges, the moss-covered stone bridges.
"It's still as beautiful," he finally said.
"Yes. The land hasn't changed. It continued to live, even without you."
Kira moved up beside him.
"Look over there."
He pointed to a promontory in the distance, crowned by a white stone building. Bluish roofs, narrow windows, black and silver flags fluttering in the breeze.
"The border manor," said Kael. "It's still standing."
"Thorgar maintained it," Drakk explained. "He said it would be the first thing you'd see upon returning."
"He was right."
They resumed the road. The escort soldiers relaxed as they advanced. Here, they were safe. The Realm spread around them, vast, lush, bathed in eternal twilight light.
"Does night still fall?" Kael asked.
"Yes," said Drakk. "But more slowly. The sky remains red and gold for hours, then tips into a star-filled darkness. You'll see tonight."
"I remember the stars."
"They haven't changed."
Kael nodded.
They passed through several villages. Light wood houses, dark tile roofs, squares adorned with fountains. The inhabitants came out to their doorsteps. Some bowed, others stood frozen, incredulous.
An old demon with calloused hands stepped onto the road.
"My king?"
Kael stopped his horse.
"Yes."
"You've returned."
"Yes."
The old demon fell to his knees.
"I had stopped believing."
"Many had stopped. You are not alone."
"But you are here."
"I am here."
The old demon lowered his head, his shoulders shaken by a silent sob.
Kael said nothing. He urged his horse forward.
"You didn't speak to him more," Kira observed.
"What did you want me to say?"
"Something reassuring."
"I didn't come to reassure. I came to reclaim."
"Sometimes, it's the same thing."
Kael didn't answer.
The road rose gently. Meadows gave way to orchards heavy with dark fruits, fields of white flowers that exhaled a sweet perfume. Ponds reflected the purple sky, still, perfect.
"It's too peaceful," said Kael.
"The Realm knew war," said Drakk. "But it kept it at bay."
"How?"
"By ceding. By negotiating. By paying."
"Until when?"
"Until now."
The road crested a hill, and suddenly, the capital appeared.
It spread across a wide valley, surrounded by white walls trimmed with silver. The roofs gleamed under the twilight light. Slender towers rose toward the sky, connected by walkways. At the center, the palace stood, immense, crowned by a black spire that seemed to touch the clouds.
Kael stopped.
The Demon King's palace.
His palace.
"It hasn't changed," he said.
"It was waiting for you," Drakk replied.
"Who maintains it?"
"The servants. The guards. The elders. No one ever stopped believing you would return. Even those who doubted didn't dare defile your halls."
Kael felt his throat tighten. He didn't show it.
"Let's go."
They descended toward the city. The gates opened before them. The streets were clean, lined with glass lanterns that cast an amber glow. Demons of all sizes and races stepped aside as they passed.
Some bowed. Others murmured. A few wept.
Kael rode straight ahead, his gaze fixed on the palace.
"You're not looking at the crowd," said Kira.
"Yes, I am."
"You're not speaking to them."
"I have nothing to say to them yet."
"They're waiting for a sign."
"They'll have one."
The palace drew nearer. Its massive gates were open, guarded by soldiers in ceremonial armor. Servants in livery stood in rows, motionless.
Kael dismounted.
The ground echoed beneath his boots.
He climbed the steps without hesitation. Drakk and Kira followed.
In the great hall, torches burned. Banners hung. A throne of black stone stood at the far end, empty.
Kael stopped before it.
"How long has it been since I sat there?" he asked.
"Ten years," Drakk answered.
"Ten years."
He placed his hand on the armrest. The stone was cold, but familiar.
"Do you want to sit?" Kira asked.
"Not yet."
"Why?"
"Because I don't want to sit before I've taken back what is mine."
"The throne is here."
"The throne, yes. But not the kingdom."
He turned to Drakk.
"Summon the generals. Those who remain. And send messengers to the Ten Kings."
"To all of them?"
"To all of them. Let them know I have returned."
"And if they don't respond?"
"Then they will have chosen their side."
Drakk inclined his head.
"It will be done."
Kael walked back toward the doors. Outside, the crowd had gathered, silent, vast. The sky was slowly darkening, revealing the first stars.
Kael stepped out onto the terrace.
A murmur rippled through the assembly.
He raised his hand.
Silence fell.
"I have returned," he said.
His voice carried far, clear, effortless.
"The Neverdie Realm did not fall. It will not fall. I did not return to hide. I returned to reign."
Stars lit up one by one above the palace.
"Let those who doubted fall silent. Let those who hoped rise. The Demon King is back."
A rumble rose from the crowd. Not a roar. A long, held breath, like a rising tide.
Kael lowered his hand.
The sky was filled with stars.
The kingdom remembered.