Zerad Arthropoda—or "Zer" to the handful of monsters brave enough not to faint in his presence—was staring at his palace ceiling, which was crafted from pure obsidian crystal. Outside, thousands of demon troops were shrieking, forging blades, and prepping war dragons to invade the human realm. It was loud, spirited, and fiercely patriotic.
To Zer, it just sounded like a persistent alarm clock on a rainy Monday morning. Annoying.
"My Great Lord!" General Malphas's voice boomed as he knelt before the throne, clad in armor drenched in blood of questionable origin. "The legions are ready. With just one word from you, we shall grind the Kingdom of Solaria into dust!"
Zer yawned. Not a normal yawn, mind you, but one that spat black lightning sparks, accidentally incinerating the expensive silk curtains to his right. "Malphas," Zer muttered, his low voice vibrating the very foundations of the mountain. "How long would it take to level that kingdom?"
"Three days, my Lord! A week at most!" Malphas replied proudly.
"A whole week?" Zer massaged his temples. "That means a full week of listening to war reports, signing conquest documents, and managing prisoner administration. Don't you find that... incredibly exhausting?"
Malphas froze. "But... isn't that our purpose as demonkind? To destroy, to pillage, and—"
"And to never get a decent afternoon nap," Zer interrupted. He stood up, his long black cloak swirling like living shadows. "I'm going for a walk. Don't follow me. If anyone asks, tell them I'm doing... dimensional destruction meditation or whatever."
With a casual flick of his fingers—softer than a normal person swatting a mosquito—the space around Zer folded. In an instant, the obsidian throne vanished, replaced by a scent far more enticing than sulfur and orc sweat: the smell of freshly baked cinnamon rolls.
---
Zer emerged in a narrow alley within the human city of Solaria. He had already shifted his appearance. The horns that could pierce the heavens were hidden by illusion magic, leaving behind a handsome young man with messy black hair and lazy eyes that looked like he hadn't slept in three centuries (which was technically accurate).
He strolled out into the main market. The sun was bright, and crowds of humans bustled about with business that Zer found utterly trivial.
"Buy an apple, Sir! Sweet as a nobleman's promise!" a merchant shouted.
Zer stopped in front of a bakery. He reached into his cloak and pulled out a coin of pure solid gold, engraved with the face of a very angry demon. "Give me the sweetest one you have," Zer said flatly.
The baker trembled at the sight of the massive gold coin. "M-my Lord, is this real gold? I don't have change for this! This could buy my entire shop!"
"Keep the change," Zer said lazily. "Consider it a fee for having to gaze upon my handsome face."
Zer took a piece of sweet bread and began to walk, chewing as he went. Only three bites in, his mind began to wander. These humans are weak, short, and brief-lived, but why do they make bread this good? Maybe I won't destroy this kingdom. I'll just turn it into my private kitchen.
However, the Demon King's peace was soon shattered. From a distance, an unusual commotion broke out. Not the typical market noise, but the sound of frantic footsteps and soldiers shouting.
"Stop! Thief! Don't let her get away!"
Zer didn't care. As long as the chaos didn't knock over his bread, the world could end for all he cared. He kept walking with a blank stare, enjoying the sugar on his tongue.
Suddenly, from a side street, a figure darted out like a bolt of lightning.
THUD!
The impact was heavy. Really heavy. If a normal human had been hit at that speed, they'd likely end up in the hospital or the nearest cemetery. But Zer was Zer. His body was as hard as the core of a star.
The result? Zer didn't budge a single millimeter. Instead, the person who ran into him was sent flying backward, landing hard in the street dust.
"Ouch... ow... my head..."
Zer looked down. His intention was to give a death stare so terrifying it would banish the offender's soul to the deepest pits of hell. But the moment he saw the figure below him, his "operating system" seemed to crash.
There, in the middle of the dirty market dust, sat a girl in a light blue dress that was slightly torn at the hem. Her hair was pale blonde and messy from running, and a pair of large green eyes looked up at Zer with a mix of shock and guilt.
This was Beatrice.
"Oh, goodness! I'm so sorry! I really didn't see you!" Beatrice said quickly, her voice sounding like the chime of silver bells in Zer's ears.
Zer stayed silent. He didn't speak. He even forgot he was holding bread.
Thump-thump.
Thump-thump.
Zer clutched his chest. Dammit, what is this? Did I just get hit with a high-level heart-attack curse? Did the heroes booby-trap this bread? he panicked. He checked his mana flow, but everything was normal. If anything, it was his blood that was racing wildly.
Beatrice scrambled to her feet, dusting herself off, then peered at Zer closely. She was quite a bit shorter than him, forcing her to look up. "Hey, are you okay? You're not hurt, right? You're standing there as still as a stone statue in the palace gardens."
Zer swallowed hard. He saw Beatrice's face up close. Her smooth skin, her petite nose, and her lips slightly pouted in worry. Her beauty wasn't the sharp, intimidating kind found in demons; it was... warm. Too warm. So warm that Zer felt his dark magic starting to melt.
"I... I'm fine," Zer answered, his voice cracking slightly. Wait, why do I sound like a pubescing teenager? I am the Demon King, for my ancestors' horns!
"Thank goodness!" Beatrice flashed a wide grin. And that was a massive mistake for Zer's mental health. That smile was more blinding than a High Priest's Holy Light spell.
"My name is Beatrice! I'm... well, in a bit of trouble. Do you know any good hiding spots?" Beatrice asked, glancing back at the soldiers starting to appear at the end of the street.
Zer looked at the soldiers. In his eyes, they were nothing more than annoying ants interrupting his sacred time. Normally, Zer would have erased them with a single breath. But now, in front of Beatrice, he felt the need to do something different.
"Follow me," Zer said. He reached out and grabbed Beatrice's hand.
The moment their skin touched, Zer felt like he'd been struck by pure lightning. He didn't know whether to let go out of embarrassment or hold on forever because it felt too right. Finally, using his Overpowered strength, Zer just walked normally—but with a subtle manipulation of space, every step they took covered ten meters, making the soldiers behind them shrink and lose their trail instantly.
They stopped in a quiet, shaded alley. Beatrice was panting, hands on her knees. "Whoa... we... we were so fast! You're pretty great at running, aren't you, Mr. What's-Your-Name?"
Zer cleared his throat, trying to reclaim his dignity from the gutter. "Zerad. Zerad Arthropoda. Just call me Zer."
"Zerad... Arthropoda?" Beatrice tilted her head. "Unique last name. Like a type of insect? But it's cool! Sounds very... exotic."
Zer almost choked on air. "Exotic, huh? Yeah, you could say that."
Beatrice then leaned in closer, her face just inches from his. Zer could feel her warm breath. "Listen, Zer. You just saved me. In return, want to grab lunch with me? I know a place with toasted bread that's second to none!"
Zer stared at the girl in front of him. He should go back to the palace. He should be overseeing the invasion. He should be the most feared entity in the world.
"Sure," Zer replied without a second thought. To hell with the invasion. To hell with the throne. If this was the way to see that smile again, Zer was willing to be a jobless human forever.
The Demon King's heart continued to pound, providing a new rhythm to his boring eternity. That day, Zer realized one thing: Conquering the world was easy, but standing in front of Beatrice without looking like an idiot was the hardest quest he had ever faced.