I was a model student.
I entered the Demon King Officer Academy as the top-ranked cadet, and I graduated as the valedictorian.
There was no demon above me. No one surpassed me.
"The Proper Way of the Demon King."
As the Demon Realm began its expansion, I delved deeper into the theories that had been systematized since that era.
And when I finally became a full-fledged Demon King and was dispatched to another dimension, those teachings shone brilliantly.
I followed the proper way more faithfully than anyone.
Step by step, exactly as prescribed, I carried out a grand design.
I erected a tower.
I kidnapped princesses.
I acted as the shadow behind the scenes, sowing chaos, and aided the heroes in growing—materially and psychologically.
In the tower that had grown beyond twenty floors, I placed goblins on the first floor and a balrog on the nineteenth.
And at the very summit, seated upon the throne, I waited for the heroes.
Everything was perfect.
Everything proceeded according to plan.
The proper way was not wrong, and I stood with only the final step remaining.
I never imagined—
That I would fail to take that last step.
That the proper way—the doctrine worshipped by myself, by the Demon Realm, by all Demon Kings—would be mocked and ridiculed by nothing more than humans.
I never even dreamed of it.
Cough—
Blood spilled from my mouth. A reality too incomprehensible often gives rise to denial.
I could not face the truth.
Why was it that my black flames—my pride—failed to harm the heroes?
Why was it that the hero's crimson blade pierced my scales, harder than any metal in the world, and drove into my heart?
I could not understand.
"How…?"
Fear of death came second to bewilderment.
I had followed the Demon King's proper way faithfully.
I kidnapped princesses, directing the kingdoms' fury toward myself.
I became the shadowy mastermind, drawing in even more hatred and sorrow.
Those things made me stronger.
Most restrictions on interdimensional interference were lifted, and vast stretches of land had begun to convert into demon territory. Complete domination was no longer a dream.
Next, I nurtured the heroes.
Their special emotions were exceedingly valuable. That was why the proper way taught us to raise them before devouring them.
I followed that teaching. I raised them.
And now, at last, I sat atop the tower, ready to indulge in fully ripened heroes and intoxicate myself on demonic power.
So why—
Why was I the one collapsing?
"How come? You Demon King bastards are always like this."
Heh.
The hero—the one who had marred my grand design—laughed at me.
"I don't get why you all make this situation yourselves and still look so shocked every time."
"What nonsense are you spouting—!"
"You always kidnap a princess or a prince first. Basically sending humans a signal: The Demon King has started moving—stop him. Honestly, how can you be this considerate? You could just kill the king. That'd throw the whole kingdom into chaos."
Of course not. Kidnapping the king would turn rage into greed, and plunge the kingdom into civil war over the throne.
"And then you always send subordinates after the heroes. Carefully selected ones—only strong enough to fight us, never enough to kill us."
Because the hero must not die halfway through. One must be careful not to ruin the finest dish.
That was what the proper way taught.
"That's not all. Whether we head toward the tower or not, you keep sending monsters anyway. So you know what we do? We say thanks. Even if it's a little dangerous, it's always manageable. We gratefully accept it all. It's almost impressive how perfectly you tune the difficulty. I doubt my parents were as attentive as you guys."
"When we reach the tower, it gets even better. The first floor always has weak monsters. As we climb, the difficulty increases gradually, perfectly matching our growth."
The hero bowed his head.
"Thank you," he murmured softly.
My insides twisted.
Something was wrong.
"Do you know what people say about Demon King towers among heroes? They call them stable growth zones. Gold mines. Heavenly treasure vaults."
He whispered it.
That everything the Demon Realm, the Demon Kings, I believed in was wrong from the very beginning.
That Demon Kings weren't raising heroes to eat—
Heroes were exploiting Demon Kings.
"Some heroes even enter a Demon King's tower, clear everything except the final floor, and leave. Why? Because it's convenient. Even if everything dies, it resets after a few months. Best hunting ground there is. Ah—maybe you didn't know? Demon Kings don't really interact with each other, after all."
A hunting ground.
My tower.
"Sometimes, though, it gets boring. You get tired of it. When that happens, you just kill the Demon King. After a while, a new Demon King and a new tower pop up. Fresh again."
An eternal hunting ground.
How wonderful.
"You were tougher than most, though. Way stronger than other Demon Kings. Lots of heroes died because of you. Still—same behavior, same ending. It was inevitable."
My mind grew hazy.
To a Demon King, heroes were pigs—meant to be slaughtered at any time. You simply fattened them up so they'd taste better. But pigs never turned into dragons.
That was what all Demon Kings believed.
That belief was shattered at its roots.
Heroes weren't pigs.
They were dragons—capable of killing Demon Kings from the start.
And Demon Kings were raising those dragons with their own hands.
No.
It had always been the other way around.
The heroes were toying with us.
How.
How could this be?
"Well then, goodbye, Demon King. Thanks for everything. You really helped me make a name for myself as a hero. Wonder who'll entertain us next."
The hero—
The heroes laughed.
Their mockery burned itself into my pupils.
"I am—! I am the Demon King! How dare you bastards toy with me!"
"A king? Is there a king here?"
"There is a generous patron, though. Who treats us with more devotion than Demon Kings?"
"Yeah. Exactly."
They snickered.
Rage surged. Heat swelled to the point of explosion.
So I stopped holding it back.
"If I go, I won't go alone."
My pierced heart was already losing strength.
My death here was inevitable.
Then I would punish them before leaving.
They would pay for mocking a Demon King.
Even if it cost me my final breath.
I crushed my heart. Drew up every last drop of demonic power.
Flames erupted. Heat distorted the air.
"He's trying something!"
"Cut his head off—now!"
The heroes shouted as they realized too late. Panic. A cold blade aimed for my neck.
Slice—
A sharp sting.
My vision flipped.
But it was already too late.
In my tumbling sight, I saw a headless body collapse.
The heart, impaled on a hero's blade, swelled as black heat radiated outward.
The gathered demonic power used my heart as a catalyst and detonated everything.
I saw heroes fleeing in desperation.
Black heat devoured the surroundings.
"Ah."
So hot.
My flames are this hot.
My past flashed before me.
Regret set in.
The proper way was wrong.
If I had known it made heroes see Demon Kings as fools—
I would never have followed it.
If only I were given another chance.
Then I'd feed that proper way to the orcs.
But it was too late.
Darkness fell.
"…De…"
My consciousness drifted through darkness.
So I died.
Is this the afterlife?
Where am I going?
"…Deias…"
A distant voice tickled my ear, but my sluggish mind ignored it.
"Berze Deias! Is he here?!"
—
My vision exploded into light.
I jolted upright.
An auditorium.
Hundreds of demons were staring at me.
What—
"Berze Deias! Hurry up here!"
I realized the host on the podium was calling my name repeatedly.
I rushed forward.
An elderly vampire greeted me.
"Cadet Berze Deias. You're not usually like this. Why space out on your graduation day?"
Concern filled his voice.
Graduation.
This place.
The vampire—the chairman—pinned a red badge to my chest.
The symbol of a Demon King, given to all graduates of the academy.
Only then did I understand.
This was—
The Demon King Officer Academy graduation ceremony from fifteen years ago.
I had graduated top of my class.
A prodigy.
"It's nothing."
"Good. Everyone here—including myself—has great expectations for you."
The chairman repeated his words exactly as he had back then.
I didn't know why I had returned to this day.
But I couldn't deny what this was.
A chance.
"Thank you. I will do my best."
"Good."
He patted my shoulder.
One by one, the other cadets stepped onto the podium and received their badges.
—Graduates, please turn around.
I turned.
Hundreds of demons celebrated our graduation.
—We will now begin the oath of the new Demon Kings.
—Valedictorian Berze Deias will read on behalf of the class.
A hologram appeared.
A Demon King must build a tower in the world assigned to them.
A Demon King must kidnap a prince or princess.
They must act as the mastermind behind chaos and leave traces of their involvement.
A Demon King must support the hero's growth in all aspects.
Lower floors must contain weaker monsters; difficulty must increase upward. The Demon King must always wait at the summit.
The tower must—
That—
The Proper Way of the Demon King.
The doctrine I had memorized until my head split.
Followed to the letter.
And died for.
I was supposed to read this.
Swear before everyone that I would obey it.
Nonsense.
—Berze Deias?
That was a moronic shackle.
A rotten doctrine wrong from the very start.
—Please begin the great Demon King's Proper Way.
The host urged me on.
I knew how grave a crime it was to deny it publicly.
I knew it would scorch my future.
But—
I had died because of it.
Toyed with.
"I refuse."
The hall fell silent.
"I will not swear to such idiotic nonsense. Following the Demon King's Proper Way is no different from carrying a hatchling's corpse into a dragon's lair. That doctrine is—"
Berze shouted, veins bulging.
"Trash."
Silence.
The academy's greatest prodigy became its greatest lunatic.