The carriage rattled to a halt before the obsidian gates of the Demon King's citadel. Torches burned high along the walls, their crimson flames casting jagged shadows across the courtyard. Waiting at the entrance were figures whose presence could silence armies.
The Grand Duke and Duchess stood tall beside their gilded carriage, their cloaks heavy with embroidered sigils of authority. Their children lingered nearby, Alice composed and serene, Adrian still sulking from the journey. And before them all—looming like the night sky itself—stood the Demon King.
His golden-crimson eyes burned, unblinking, as the carriage door swung open.
Asura hopped out first, golden eyes bright, hakama-like pants swaying faintly with his stride. Selene followed, her expression composed but tight.
The air was heavy. Soldiers lining the walls stood straighter. Even the Grand Duke and Duchess, seasoned pillars of the realm, dipped their heads in respect.
The Demon King's gaze fixed squarely on Asura.
"I heard," he rumbled, his voice like grinding mountains, "you got into a fight… in the town."
Selene froze, heart leaping into her throat. Adrian paled, whispering under his breath, He's dead. The prince is dead. No one survives a lecture from His Majesty.
Asura blinked innocently. "...Define fight."
Silence blanketed the courtyard. Selene's hands twitched at her sides, ready to intervene if needed.
Then—like a blade striking stone—the Demon King's lips curved. A deep, booming laugh tore through the air, shaking the very gates.
"HAHAHAHA! That's my blood! A prince who does not cower in the streets, but raises his blade when challenged!"
The ground itself seemed to vibrate with the force of his approval. Soldiers straightened. Nobles exchanged nervous glances. The Grand Duke's brows rose faintly, while the Duchess hid a knowing smile.
Asura's chest swelled, his golden eyes gleaming with satisfaction. Main character moment unlocked, he thought smugly.
Adrian's jaw hit the floor. "W-What?!" He spun toward his father. "But—he caused a scene! He—he showed off—he—"
The Demon King's laughter only deepened, echoing like thunder across the courtyard. He lowered his head, his crimson mane spilling forward as he fixed Asura with a gaze of raw pride.
"Good. Never hide your strength. Let the world tremble when you walk it. You carry my blood, boy. Do not crawl in shadows—make the shadows bend to you."
Asura grinned wide, basking in the moment, his heart pounding with triumph. He bowed slightly—more out of style than respect.
"Yes, Grandfather. Loud and flashy. Got it."
Selene closed her eyes, exhaling slowly. "…You're going to be the death of me."
But for Asura, the moment burned like fire in his chest. Recognition. Pride. The kind of approval he had once only dreamed of.
And in that instant, he wasn't just the mischievous boy or the reckless prince.
He was Asura Satomi—the Demon King's heir.
✦ The Treasury and the Codex
The Grand Duke's carriage had long departed, leaving only silence in the courtyard. Asura glanced up at his towering grandfather, golden eyes glinting.
"Grandfather… can I see the treasury?"
Selene stiffened. "Young master—"
The Demon King only chuckled, folding his massive arms. "Curious, are you? Good. A prince should know the wealth he will inherit. Come."
The descent into the citadel's depths ended with the groaning open of massive vault doors. What lay beyond made Asura's jaw drop.
Gold. Endless, glittering piles of it. Gems the size of fists. Relics half-buried in treasure: crowns, cursed rings, dragon bones that pulsed faintly with mana.
And in the corner, a lamp shimmered faintly.
Asura rushed over. "No way—no way! You actually have one of these? A genie lamp?!" He reached for it, only to yelp when a spark snapped his hand. "Ow! Okay—guess no singing blue guy."
Selene pressed a hand to her forehead. "Must you be like this everywhere?"
The Demon King's laughter shook the chamber. "You remind me of your mother, boy."
Asura's grin faded slightly at that, but his eyes quickly lit up again when he spotted the far wall.
There, plunged into the stone, stood a monstrous blade—jagged, black-red steel, its aura heavy enough to make even Selene falter.
The Demon King's gaze sharpened. "One day, this sword will be yours."
Asura tilted his head, studying it for a long moment. Then he shrugged.
"Cool sword. But not for me. I like katanas. Sleeker. Cleaner. Besides… I already have Yamikami and something else waiting to awaken."
For a moment, silence. Then the Demon King roared with laughter again. "To refuse this… bold indeed!"
Asura smiled faintly. He didn't say it aloud, but in his heart, he knew it was true. That blade wasn't his.
Instead, he wandered, picking through the vault until his eyes caught what he'd been looking for:
A bolt of enchanted black silk that whispered with self-mending mana.A strip of golden-thread demonweave, strong yet flexible.A shard of crystalline cloth infused with protective wards.
Perfect. Upgrades for his outfit. Something that would make his clothes not just impressive—but useful.
✦ The System's Secret
That night, back in his chambers, Asura spread the materials across his desk. His golden eyes gleamed with ideas. He reached out mentally, prompting his system.
Attempting to unlock new skills…
Requested: Great Sage, Commander's Authority, Musical Talent, Singing, Foresight, Martial Arts, Regeneration.
Then, for the first time, a new notification flashed:
Reminiscence Codex – On Cooldown.
(Usage: 6 skills per cycle. Cooldown: 4 days.)
Asura blinked. "…Wait." His brow furrowed. "So I can actually bring stuff I remember into this world? And this… this has been hiding the whole time?"
His system continued to scroll, explaining:
Reminiscence Codex: Grants host access to memories of a past life. Allows the transmutation of remembered abilities—fictional or conceptual—into real skills. Restrictions apply.
For a moment, Asura sat in stunned silence, his mouth hanging slightly open.
"…All this time, I thought it was just one of my other skills making anime moves work here." He dragged a hand down his face, groaning. "Unbelievable. I had a literal cheat menu and never even noticed."
He collapsed back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. "Four days. I've gotta wait four days before I can try again? Tch… ridiculous."
The annoyance faded slowly into a quiet smile. His golden eyes narrowed, a steady determination glowing within them.
"…Fine. I'll wait. When the cooldown's done, I'll add everything I need. And when I do… no one in this world will stop me."
On the desk, the crystal fragment pulsed faintly, while Yamikami hummed in its sheath. Almost like they approved. Or mocked him.
Asura sighed. "Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up. But just watch… when this resets, I'll rewrite the rules of this world."
✦ Forging the Prince's Attire
The citadel was quiet under the watch of a pale moon. Shadows stretched long through Asura's chamber, torches crackling low against the obsidian walls. On the floor, spread out like loot after a dungeon raid, were the treasures he'd taken from the treasury.
Asura sat cross-legged, golden eyes gleaming, grinning like a child about to unwrap presents.
"Alright," he muttered, rubbing his palms together. "Time to upgrade from 'stylish prince' to 'overpowered protagonist.'"
His gaze flicked to the outfit folded neatly across a chair—the asymmetrical black top with sharp white trims, the flowing hakama-like pants, the silk overlay. Sleek. Intimidating. Regal.
"…And completely useless," he sighed, puffing his cheeks. "Looks great, but if some slobbering monster sneezes on me, it won't stitch itself back together. Can't exactly be a main character if I get one-shotted because my drip has no defense."
He leaned over the items he'd chosen:
Demonic Silk Overlay, threads darker than midnight, humming faintly with mana.Demonweave Gold-thread, shimmering like strands of molten sunlight.Crystalcloth Fragment, translucent and pulsing like a heartbeat.
Asura smirked. "Okay, System. Time to see what happens when drip meets god-tier loot."
His vision pinged immediately.
Enchanting Recognized.
Components detected: [Demonic Silk], [Demonweave Gold-thread], [Crystalcloth Fragment].
Potential Outcome: Prince's Attire – Evolving (Unique).
Begin infusion?
Asura slammed both hands on the floor. "Heck yea!"
Mana roared outward, making the air buzz and the torchlight sputter. The black silk overlay lifted, twisting and lashing like a living shadow before weaving itself into his top. Golden threads coiled upward in spirals, lacing the cuffs, collar, and sash until they glowed briefly before settling.
The crystal fragment dissolved into luminous dust, raining across the garments. Each mote sank into the fabric, leaving behind glowing runes etched faintly into the chest, sleeves, and hakama pleats.
For a heartbeat, the chamber felt less like a room and more like a forge—each pulse of mana hammering the outfit into something more.
The system flooded his vision:
Prince's Attire – Evolving (Unique / True Demon Lord Exclusive).
Effects gained:
– Indestructible (Passive)
– Self-Repair (Rapid)
– Mana Conduction (+15% efficiency)
– Regal Presence (Authority boost among demons)
– Locked Potential: ???
Asura's grin nearly split his face. "…I just turned fashion into armor."
He shrugged on the black top, fastening the golden clasp at his throat. It hugged his frame perfectly, sleek yet weightless. The hakama swished around his legs, each pleat flowing like water but refusing to wrinkle or drag. The overlay clung like a cloak of shadows, silent and elegant.
He spun once, then twice, laughing under his breath. "Not just stylish—main-character stylish."
When he flexed, the fabric shimmered faintly, strengthening as if bracing for impact. When he tugged, it tightened smoothly, never tearing. The silk overlay whispered around him, regal no matter how he moved.
He struck a mock pose in front of the mirror, golden eyes glinting. "Now this? This is drip with plot armor."
Knock knock.
Asura jumped, nearly tripping on the hem before diving onto his bed. He yanked the blanket to his chin just as Selene's calm voice drifted through the door.
"Young master? Still awake?"
He forced a yawning groan. "N-Nope! Totally asleep! Dreaming about… snacks! Very innocent!"
Silence. Then a weary sigh. "Very well. Rest. Tomorrow will be busy."
Her footsteps faded.
Asura cracked open one golden eye, then peeked back toward the outfit now glowing faintly in the corner. His grin returned, wide and wolfish.
He padded over, brushing his fingers across the golden sash. The fabric pulsed faintly in response, like it recognized him.
"Tomorrow," he whispered, "we'll test you properly. If my blades can evolve, my armor should keep up too."
The clothes shimmered faintly, shadows bending toward them. For the first time, Asura felt like not only his swords, but his very presence was sharpening into something greater—something the world wasn't ready for.
He chuckled, childlike mischief in his tone. "Next time some monster drools on me, I'll just laugh it off."
With that, he crawled back into bed, golden eyes glowing faintly in the dark until sleep finally claimed him—dreaming of battles where his attire gleamed like firelight against the night.
✦ Whispers of a Demon Prince
The great hall of Valoria was quiet, its marble walls dimly lit by wavering torchlight. The day's council had already been dismissed, but shadows still moved beneath the high vaults. One of them detached from the pillars, kneeling at the foot of the dais where the King of Valoria sat reclined upon his throne.
The spy pressed his forehead to the cold floor. "Your Majesty. I bring news from the demon border."
The King did not shift, his chin resting lazily upon one hand. "Speak."
"The tremor four years ago," the spy began, voice low, "was indeed the Abyssal Behemoth. But, Majesty… there is more. The demons whisper of a boy. The grandson of the Demon King himself."
The King's eyes opened slightly, calm and steady, their weight enough to make the spy tremble. "A boy?"
"Yes, sire. He is only eight years old now. Yet already the demon folk call him a genius. They say his sword can split stone, his magic rivals seasoned commanders. They claim the Demon King trains him personally."
Silence pressed over the hall. The spy's breath caught, unsure if he had spoken too boldly.
The King leaned back, his expression unreadable, as if mulling over a story told at a tavern rather than intelligence that could shape the fate of realms. "Eight years old," he said softly, almost lazily. "A child."
The spy swallowed. "Majesty… shall we dismiss it as rumor? Perhaps the demons spread tales to frighten us."
The King rose at last, his mantle sweeping the marble steps as he descended the dais with unhurried grace. The air thickened around him, as though the hall itself bowed to his presence. When he spoke, his tone was calm, even gentle—yet it carried like thunder.
"No. Stories are seeds. Left untended, they grow into forests."
He stopped before the great map of the continent inlaid into the floor. His gaze lingered on the dark mark carved where the Demon Realm lay. A faint smile tugged at his lips, though it was impossible to tell whether it was amusement—or anticipation.
"Send scouts," the King commanded. "Not openly. They will go as merchants, pilgrims, wanderers. Let them confirm the truth of this boy. If he is nothing but rumor…" His hand flicked dismissively. "…then let them erase him."
The spy bowed until his nose brushed the marble. "As you command, Your Majesty."
The King turned, retreating toward the throne with the same calm stride, his shadow stretching long across the hall. His voice, unhurried and quiet, lingered in the torchlit chamber long after he sat again.
"If he is nothing, he dies. But if he is something… Valoria will know. And the world will change."
The torches sputtered, bending low as though even fire feared him. And in the silence that followed, the hall itself seemed to breathe like a beast waiting to be unleashed.