The days bled together.
Sword drills at dawn. Mana control at dusk. Sparring until his body collapsed.
Weeks became months, and months hardened into years.
Asura's childhood ended the moment his grandfather had spoken the words: "Prepare yourself. Your childhood ends today." From that day forward, he was not treated as a child, but as an heir forged in fire and battle.
✦ Year One – The Foundations
The first year was pain.
It began with the body.
His grandfather would not allow him to touch mana until his flesh could endure the strain of a demon warrior. At dawn, the Demon King himself dragged Asura into the courtyard, placing a wooden katana in his trembling hands.
"Swing," the King commanded.
One strike.
Ten strikes.
One hundred strikes.
By the time the sun sank, Asura's palms were torn open, blood dripping down the grip. The katana slipped, fell, and broke. The King gave him another.
"Again."
Night after night, it was the same. Blisters became callouses. Callouses split and bled. His wooden katana shattered dozens of times, only to be reforged and placed back into his hands.
When his arms failed him, the Demon King laughed, not cruelly, but with fierce approval.
"Good! Break your body, boy. Only broken steel can be reforged stronger."
The second stage was endurance.
The King forced him to carry stones heavier than his own body across the courtyard until his legs buckled. He made Asura run the length of the castle walls with knights chasing him, striking if he slowed.
When his lungs burned and his small body collapsed face-first into the dirt, Selene would rush to his side, hands trembling as she wiped sweat from his brow.
"Enough! He's still a child!" she protested once.
The Demon King's gaze silenced her.
"He is not a child. He is my heir. And if he cannot bear this, he will not survive the world waiting for him."
Selene bowed her head, but her violet eyes lingered on Asura's small, trembling form, filled with worry no command could erase. That night, she snuck into his chambers, cleaning his wounds and whispering soft lullabies until his restless sleep came.
The third stage was mana.
Once his body began to harden, the Demon King allowed him to touch his aura. At first, it seared him from the inside, like fire clawing at his veins. Each attempt left him doubled over, choking, his young body trembling.
But slowly… steadily… he endured. He learned to breathe through it. To guide the torrent instead of drowning in it. To let mana strengthen his flesh instead of destroy it.
System Notifications whispered in his mind like rewards for suffering:
[Swordsmanship Lv. 14 → Lv. 25]
[Elemental Breathing – Fusion Style Lv. 2 → Lv. 5]
[True Demon Lord Awakening Progress: 13% → 22%]
[New Skill Acquired: Mana Reinforcement (Beginner)]
[New Skill Acquired: Flame Arc Lv. 1]
By the end of the first year, Asura's body had changed. His arms no longer shook under the weight of the katana. His swings, once sloppy and uneven, cut the air with clean arcs. His mana, once wild and burning, now hummed faintly around him like a second heartbeat.
But though his body grew stronger, the memory of the Abyssal Behemoth haunted him still. Its glowing eyes, its roar that split the world.
Every night before sleep, that image lit his golden eyes with fire.
And every morning, he rose again—aching, bruised, half-broken—grinning through the pain.
The Demon King watched with satisfaction as the boy's frail body turned hard as steel, his strikes growing sharper, his mana steadier.
And Selene… Selene never left his side. When his body burned too hot, she cooled him. When wounds opened too wide, she bound them. She never complained, though her soft gaze often lingered on him, full of quiet worry that only grew deeper as the boy pushed himself beyond reason.
The first year was pain.
But pain was only the foundation of fire.
✦ Year Two – The Fire Within
The second year was power.
The foundations of the first year had hardened his body, but now his grandfather demanded results. The Demon King no longer cared for simple drills. He brought Asura into battle.
Training by Fire
At dawn, knights clad in black armor filled the courtyard. Their swords gleamed, their horns glowed faintly with mana. They bowed before the throne, only to be ordered forward.
"Your opponent," the King rumbled, gesturing to the silver-haired child before them. "Do not hold back."
The knights hesitated, their crimson eyes flicking toward the boy. He's only a child.
"Strike," the King commanded again, his voice like thunder.
The clash was merciless. Swords crashed against Asura's wooden katana, each blow rattling his bones. He staggered, fell, bled. But every time he collapsed, the Demon King roared from his throne:
"Again! Stand, boy! A demon who stays down dies down!"
And Asura stood. Again, and again, and again.
Monsters as Teachers
When knights and commanders no longer sufficed, his grandfather escalated. Caravans of chained beasts were brought into the yard—Direwolves, Manticores, even lower-ranked Abyssal spawn with skin like stone.
"Kill," the King ordered simply.
And Asura obeyed.
He learned to weave mana into his strikes, his katana cutting not only with steel but with flame. He remembered anime sword forms from his past life—sloppy imitations at first, but slowly, carefully, they evolved. Flame arcs became sharper, lightning steps quicker. By forcing them into this world's logic, the impossible became real.
Each victory came at a cost. Clawed shoulders. Burned skin. Ribs that ached for weeks. But the system rewarded his pain.
System Growth
[Level 1 → Level 90.]
[Swordsmanship Lv. 25 → Lv. 40.]
[Elemental Breathing – Fusion Style Lv. 5 → Lv. 10.]
[New Skill Acquired: Shadow Step Lv. 3.]
[New Skill Acquired: Thunder Fang Lv. 2.]
[New Skill Acquired: Mana Burst (Intermediate.)]
[True Demon Lord Awakening Progress: 22% → 36%.]
The Strain
Selene was always there—watching from the edge of the training yard, clutching her apron so tightly her knuckles turned white. She tended to his wounds when knights cut too deep, cooled his body when fire spells burned too hot.
At night, when he returned half-conscious to his chambers, she pulled off his boots, bathed his hands, and bandaged his cuts in silence.
Sometimes he tried to grin at her, whispering, "See? Still alive."
And sometimes he simply collapsed into her arms, too tired to joke. She never scolded him. She never asked him to stop. She only held him close and whispered into his hair:
"You've done enough. Rest now, young master. Rest."
The Spark of Fusion
By the year's end, Asura no longer looked like a child swinging sticks. His aura flared with every strike, his blade cut with both flame and lightning, and the "anime" techniques had fused with this world's natural elements into something entirely new.
And in that moment, Asura understood—he wasn't just surviving training anymore. He was forging something the world had never seen.
The second year was power.
And power was only the beginning.
✦ Year Three – The Unleashing
The third year was fury.
The Demon King had decided drills, sparring, and staged battles were no longer enough. A demon prince could not grow in safety. Power had to be tested in fire, and fire meant blood.
Beasts of the Wild
At first, Asura was cast against Direwolves—not one or two, but entire packs, snarling and coordinated. Their glowing eyes and jagged fangs tore into the air as they circled him.
"Do not hold back," his grandfather commanded, watching from a nearby cliff.
And Asura didn't.
He moved through the pack like lightning, his wooden katana a blur. Fire wrapped around his blade, lightning sparked from his steps, and every slash cut through flesh and bone. He stumbled, bled, but each victory pushed his limits further.
Notifications chimed endlessly, marking every kill with growth.
But soon beasts were not enough.
Human Raiders
One day, chained humans were dragged into the arena—raiders who had crossed into demon lands, captured while plundering border villages.
"These ones kill for greed," the Demon King said coldly. "Let them see what true strength is."
Asura hesitated for only a breath. His golden eyes flickered—not with innocence, but with memory. The Abyssal Behemoth's roar still haunted him. Weakness was death.
He fought.
The raiders' blades were crude compared to knights, but they were vicious, desperate. They lunged in packs, shouting curses, swinging recklessly. Asura's katana danced, weaving fire and shadow into every strike. His silver hair whipped in the wind as he cut them down, his face set in grim determination.
When the last raider fell, his chest heaving, he whispered to himself, almost trembling:
"…Stronger. I still need to be stronger."
Behemoth Spawn
The true test came later. Carcasses of beasts trembled when a shadow loomed across the battlefield. The ground shook.
A spawn. Low-ranked, yes—but still carrying the blood of the Abyssal Behemoth.
The memory of those molten eyes flooded his mind. His chest clenched. His hands shook.
But then he gritted his teeth, lifted his blade, and shouted, "Come!"
The battle was carnage. His Awakening flared mid-fight, black markings crawling across his skin as he slashed with power beyond his years. The spawn fell, scorched by his Dark Flame Burst, cut into ribbons by his Phantom Flux Slash.
The world blurred into fire, shadow, and fury.
System Growth
[Level 90 → Level 190.]
[Swordsmanship Lv. 40 → Lv. 65.]
[Elemental Sword Art Lv. 4 → Lv. 10.]
[Elemental Breathing – Fusion Style Lv. 10 → Lv. 15.]
[New Skill Acquired: Dark Flame Burst Lv. 3.]
[New Skill Acquired: Phantom Flux Slash Lv. 2.]
[Unique Skill Created: Sixfold Katana Style (Prototype.)]
[True Demon Lord Awakening Progress: 36% → 46%.]
The Toll
The Demon King roared with pride each time his grandson returned victorious, his laughter booming across the halls. "Yes! That's it, Asura! Blood and fury are the teachers of demons!"
But not everyone celebrated.
Selene's smiles grew thinner by the day. She sat by his bedside each night, tending wounds that cut deeper each week, wiping away blood that stained his silver hair. Sometimes she held his trembling hands, feeling the raw mana still surging violently through him.
"Enough for today," she whispered, though she knew he would not listen.
And Asura, bandaged and bruised, would only grin through the pain, golden eyes blazing.
"Stronger," he whispered, as if it were a prayer. "I still need to be stronger."
The third year was fury.
And fury carved the boy into something the world had never seen.
✦ Year Four – The Demon's Heir
The fourth year was transformation.
The boy who had once toddled through obsidian halls was gone. His body stretched taller now, his frame lean with wiry muscle that pulsed with power. The childish softness of his face had been replaced by sharper lines, his horns grown longer and curved like polished obsidian.
His golden eyes no longer held the gleam of childish mischief—they burned, fierce and steady, like blades honed under fire. And when he walked, the air around him seemed to grow heavier, his aura leaking even when he tried to suppress it.
Beyond Knights
Knights no longer dared spar with him. They bowed their heads, muttering excuses, their bodies trembling when his golden gaze fell upon them.
Instead, commanders were summoned—towering demons clad in armor, their horns jagged, their weapons forged in magma. Even they found themselves outpaced, their blades shattered, their bodies driven to the dirt by the grandson of their King.
Generals followed. Monsters of nightmare rank followed.
And Asura stood, drenched in sweat, blood, and dust… still standing.
A Blade That Split the World
Every swing of his katana cracked stone.
Every step carried bursts of lightning and shadow, shaking the ground beneath him.
Every spell warped the battlefield into a storm of flame, frost, and thunder.
The Demon King watched with pride as Asura's Awakening surfaced more and more often. At first, it was uncontrollable, a blaze of markings and dark fire that devoured him. But now—now he could call it forth for short bursts, enough to fuel devastating strikes before letting it fade.
For moments at a time, the boy was no longer boy, but demon incarnate.
System Growth
[Level 190 → Level 290.]
[Swordsmanship Lv. 65 → Lv. 100 (Master.)]
[Elemental Sword Art Lv. 10 → Lv. 18.]
[Elemental Breathing – Fusion Style Lv. 15 → Lv. 22.]
[New Skill Acquired: Demonic Endurance Lv. 5.]
[Sixfold Katana Style – Lv. 3.]
[True Demon Lord Awakening Progress: 46% → 54%.]
The Realm Whispers
By now, the castle whispered his name in awe.
Servants who once treated him as a mischievous boy now bowed until their foreheads touched stone, afraid to meet his eyes. Nobles who had dismissed him as a child now spoke in hushed tones, their voices laced with both fear and reverence.
Some feared him—calling him a calamity in the making, a storm that might one day consume even the Demon Realm.
Others worshipped him—whispering prayers of loyalty, imagining him as the future king who would lead demons to supremacy over all realms.
Selene's Fear, the King's Pride
Selene's hands trembled more often now when she tended to him. Bandaging his cuts, washing the blood from his skin, she bit her lip in silence, her violet eyes carrying both admiration and dread.
"Your power… it grows too quickly," she whispered one night, her hand lingering over his arm. "At this pace, even your body may not endure it."
Asura only grinned, golden eyes flashing. "Then I'll just make my body stronger too."
The Demon King, on the other hand, laughed thunderously at every display of growth. His voice echoed across the halls:
"Yes! That's it, Asura! You are my heir, my blood! The world will bow or burn before you!"
The Roar in His Memory
But Asura cared little for whispers of fear or worship. He didn't train for nobles, or servants, or even his grandfather's approval.
His golden eyes looked only forward—toward the horizon where molten eyes glared back at him in memory, where the roar of a Behemoth still shook his soul.
He tightened his grip on the hilt of his katana, his aura flickering like black fire.
"…I'll face you again," he muttered under his breath. "And this time… I won't run."
The fourth year was transformation.
And transformation carved a boy into an heir, a prince into a storm.
✦ The Status Window
At eight years old, Asura sat cross-legged in the center of his chamber, his breath slow and steady. Moonlight filtered through the tall windows, brushing silver across his hair. The silence was heavy, broken only by the quiet hum of mana that radiated from his body like a second heartbeat.
With a single thought, the familiar chime rang in his ears.
Ding!
The status window bloomed before his eyes, lines of glowing script filling the air like divine judgment.
The Numbers
Name: Asura Satomi
Age: 8
Race: True Demon Lord
Level:290
HP: 200,000
MP: 100,000
STR: 98,000
VIT: 130,000
AGI: 110,000
INT: 100,000
LUK: 99,999 (MAX)
[True Demon Lord Awakening – 54% (Stable)]
[Class: Arc Swordsman – Evolving]
The Skills
Skills (Partial List):
Elemental Breathing – Fusion StyleVoid Breaker SlashShadow Rift StepCrimson Flash BarrageTeleportation (Advanced) Infinite Growth PotentialAll-Knowing (Evolving) Luck of the Gods (MAX) [New Hidden Skill Detected… ?]
The list stretched on and on, a blur of names and effects that could take hours to read. Asura didn't need to. He could feel the weight of them humming in his blood, crowding his very soul with power.
His Reflection
He let out a long breath, staring at the blazing numbers.
"…Level 290," he whispered. His voice cracked with disbelief, even now.
He remembered being four years old, falling on his butt in the training yard because he had put too much force behind a anime skill. He remembered the first time he saw Keith's stats and compared them to his old stats, thinking himself strong compared to a seasoned knight.
Now? His weakest stat alone could crush entire armies. His strength surpassed generals. His intellect dwarfed scholars. His mana… he could drown kingdoms in it. And luck—his grin twitched—it had reached the world's ceiling. MAX. No roll of fate, no gamble of destiny could defy him now.
"…I'm not the same kid who used to dream about adventure from behind a school desk," he said quietly.
His golden eyes blazed, sharp as blades. "This world… isn't ready for me."
The Mystery
His gaze dropped back to the bottom of the window.
[New Hidden Skill Detected… ?]
The line pulsed faintly, refusing to reveal itself, like a secret whispered in the dark.
His heart raced faster. A hidden skill. Something even the system hesitated to name.
"What are you?" Asura muttered, reaching out with his will. The text flickered, glitching for half a second, before vanishing back into obscurity. No matter how hard he pushed, it refused to reveal itself.
He leaned back, frustrated but grinning all the same.
"Guess I'll just have to get stronger… and force you to show yourself."
His Resolve
Asura clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms, the fire in his chest burning brighter.
The world whispered of kings, generals, heroes, and monsters. But at eight years old, Asura Satomi had already stepped beyond what their stories could describe.
And still—it wasn't enough.
He closed the window with a thought, letting the glow fade from his chamber. His eyes burned in the dark, silver flames flickering with hunger.
"Behemoths… kingdoms… even the gods." He whispered, his voice low, a promise etched into the silence.
"When I come for you… you won't survive."