"Again," Kraxis commanded, his voice echoing across the underground training chamber.
Jin-ho raised Nightfang, his muscles burning with exertion. The wavy-bladed sword felt heavier than ever after five hours of continuous drills. Sweat ran down his crimson skin in rivulets, soaking the simple black training tunic he wore.
"Your stance is too wide," the general criticized. "And your grip is slipping. The King's Blade requires precision, not just strength."
He's enjoying this too much, Jin-ho thought irritably.
Perhaps, the Demon God agreed. But he's not wrong. Your footwork is atrocious.
Three days had passed since the battle at the Void Chamber. Three days since Jin-ho had unleashed shadow magic he hadn't known he possessed. Three days since he'd confronted the golden Champion. And for all three days, Kraxis had insisted on these punishing training sessions.
"My King," Kraxis had explained on the first day, his tone almost apologetic, "five centuries in the void has...atrophied away even your mighty muscles. We must rebuild your strength and stamina to their former glory. The body remembers, but it needs... encouragement."
Jin-ho had agreed, partly because he genuinely needed the practice and partly because it explained his obvious lack of skill with the sword. Better to have demons believe their king was rebuilding lost muscle memory than to suspect the truth-that a different soul entirely occupied the royal body.
Jin-ho adjusted his grip and tried again, forcing his body through the complex sequence of movements Kraxis had demonstrated. Slash, parry, thrust, spin, strike. Nightfang's wavy blade left trails of darkness in the air, beautiful but still clumsy compared to the general's fluid grace.
"Better," Kraxis conceded grudgingly. "But still not worthy of the Demon King. You could execute that sequence blindfolded back then."
"Well, he had centuries of practice," Jin-ho snapped, his tail lashing behind him in frustration.
Kraxis's amber eyes widened slightly at the outburst. Something flickered across his face—confusion, perhaps even suspicion.
Careful, the Demon God warned. Don't give yourself away.
"What I mean is," Jin-ho added hastily, "the void affected my... muscle memory."
"Of course, my King," Kraxis bowed slightly. "I forget myself. Five centuries in the void would affect anyone, even one as powerful as you."
Jin-ho nodded, relieved that the general accepted the excuse. But as the training continued, he noticed Kraxis watching him more carefully than before, studying his movements with an intensity that went beyond mere instruction.
They moved on to shadow manipulation exercises. Jin-ho managed to extinguish several torches, though with less control than he intended. One exploded rather dramatically, sending burning oil across the stone floor.
"Too much power, too little finesse," Kraxis observed. "Like using a maul to crack an egg."
"Sorry," Jin-ho muttered without thinking.
The word slipped out so naturally, so instinctively, that he didn't realize his mistake until Kraxis froze. The general's expression shifted from simple observation to something deeper, more calculating.
"Sorry?" Kraxis repeated slowly. "In all my centuries of service, I've never once heard the Demon King apologize for anything. Certainly not to a subordinate."
Jin-ho's heart raced. His tail, betraying his anxiety, curled tightly around his leg. He scrambled for an explanation, but panic made his thoughts jumbled.
This is bad, the Demon God warned. You need to salvage this situation immediately.
"The void..." Jin-ho began, but then stopped. The excuse felt hollow even to him. Kraxis was too observant, too smart to accept such a weak explanation.
Kraxis studied him for a long moment, his amber eyes narrowing. "Who are you really?" he asked quietly, his hand moving to rest on his sword hilt.
Jin-ho froze. The game was up. He could try to bluster through, insist he was Malverous, but something in Kraxis's gaze told him the general already knew-or at least strongly suspected-the truth.
"I..." Jin-ho faltered. The scent of burnt sugar filled the air-Kraxis's fear-but also something else. Burnt wood and honey—determination mixed with something he couldn't identify.
"You are not Malverous," Kraxis stated, not a question but a declaration. "The body, yes. But not the soul."
Jin-ho's shoulders slumped in defeat. "No," he admitted. "I'm not."
Kraxis circled him slowly, taking in every detail as if seeing him for the first time. "The Demon God brought you here?" he asked.
"Yes. After your king died...permanently. The void helped preserve his body, but his soul was gone, well, almost all of his soul. The Demon God needed someone to take his place."
"And he chose you." Kraxis stopped in front of him, studying his face intently. "From where?"
"Another world. Called Earth. I was..." Jin-ho hesitated, then decided on honesty. "Nobody important. Just a programmer who avoided people."
Kraxis's reaction was not what Jin-ho expected. Instead of anger or betrayal, the general's eyes widened with something that looked almost like... excitement?
"Another world?" Kraxis breathed. "Not human then? Not of this realm?"
"I...I mean, I was human, but from a completely different world. Nothing like the humans here."
To Jin-ho's utter shock, Kraxis let out a delighted laugh. "By the void, this is incredible! The Demon God chose someone from beyond our reality itself!"
"You're not...angry?" Jin-ho asked, bewildered.
"Angry? My King-this is the most fascinating thing to happen in centuries!" Kraxis's amber eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. "Do you understand what this means? You're not bound by our world's prejudices, our ancient grudges. You see things with truly fresh eyes! Do you have a name, or did your world not need them?"
"I don't understand..."
Kraxis grabbed his shoulder. "When the Demon God told us to preserve the king's body, we all assumed Malverous's soul would return someday. But this is better! An outsider, someone who can approach our problems without the baggage of millennia of hatred."
Jin-ho blinked, completely thrown by Kraxis's reaction. "You believe me?"
"I've suspected something since your awakening," Kraxis admitted. "Your movements, your speech patterns-all subtly different. But I never imagined the truth would be this...extraordinary." He grinned, showing his fangs. "Tell me, what is your world like? Do you have demons there? Magic? What are your technologies?"
"I...we don't have magic," Jin-ho said hesitantly. "Or demons. We have computers, machines that think. I used to write instructions for them. Also...my name is Jin-ho...Park Jin-ho." His voice dipped a bit as he finally said his true name out loud.
Kraxis listened with rapt attention as Jin-ho awkwardly described Earth-the cities, the technology, the lack of supernatural creatures. The general seemed especially fascinated by the concept of the Internet and global communications.
"Remarkable," Kraxis said when Jin-ho finished. "And the Demon God plucked you from this world to lead us?" He laughed again. "No wonder you struggle with swordplay and social graces! You're not just recovering from the void-you're learning everything for the first time!"
"You'll keep this secret?" Jin-ho asked.
"Of course! Not just for your protection, but because this is far too delicious an adventure to spoil." Kraxis straightened, his expression becoming more serious. "But I will help you, King Jin-ho. Not just with combat training and court etiquette, but with understanding our world. And in return..." His eyes gleamed. "You'll tell me more about yours."
"You're taking this incredibly well," Jin-ho observed.
"Why shouldn't I? The Demon God chose you. That's reason enough for loyalty. But beyond that..." Kraxis smiled warmly. "I've lived for centuries watching the same endless cycle of hatred and war. Having someone from outside our world, someone who might see solutions we can't...that gives me hope."
Jin-ho felt a weight lift from his shoulders. Not only had he gained an ally, but one who seemed genuinely excited about his otherworldly origins rather than horrified by them.
Well, that was unexpected, the Demon God commented, sounding amused. Perhaps there's more flexibility in demon thinking than I gave them credit for.
"Thank you, Kraxis," Jin-ho said sincerely. "I won't let you down."
"See that you don't," the general replied with mock sternness. "Now, shall we continue your training, King Jin-ho of Earth? Your swordwork still needs considerable improvement before tonight's feast."
Jin-ho groaned. "The feast. I'd almost forgotten."
"Ah yes," Kraxis smiled, a new light of mischief in his eyes. "Perhaps we should focus on court etiquette instead. I imagine your world didn't prepare you for demon nobility?"
"You'd be correct. We had politicians, but they're a different sort of monster."
Kraxis laughed at that, and for the first time since his summoning, Jin-ho felt like he might have found not just an ally, but perhaps even a friend.
-----
Their conversation was interrupted by a soft knock at the courtyard's entrance. A slender figure stood in the doorway—Lyria, the Scholar demoness from the court, clutching a collection of ancient scrolls.
"My King," she began, then paused as she noticed the unusual ease between Jin-ho and Kraxis. Her silver eyes narrowed slightly, but she continued. "I've made discoveries about the Marriage Circle that may interest you."
Jin-ho's interest was immediately piqued. Since returning from the temple, Lyria had been analyzing the artifacts and texts they'd recovered from the excavation, seeking insights into the ancient magic that once bound humans and demons.
"What have you found?" he asked, sheathing Nightfang and approaching her.
Lyria held out an ancient scroll, its edges crumbling with age. "This text describes the Marriage Circle's creation. It wasn't just symbolic, my King. It was functional magic—an enchantment that prevented the 'turning' of humans against demonkind."
"The turning?" Jin-ho repeated.
"The hatred that manifests during human puberty," Lyria explained. "The text confirms it's artificial—imposed by the Goddess as a final punishment after the Human Queen's betrayal."
Jin-ho felt a chill run through him. This matched what the Demon God had told him, but hearing it independently confirmed made it more real somehow.
"The Marriage Circle countered this?" he asked.
"It created a... buffer zone of sorts. Within its influence, humans and demons could interact without the supernatural hatred manifesting." Lyria's silver eyes gleamed with academic excitement. "And this wasn't the only such circle, my King. There were dozens across the continent, maintaining peaceful borders between our peoples."
"Until the Queen's betrayal."
"Yes." Lyria's expression fell. "After she killed the King—killed you—" she quickly corrected herself, "the circles were systematically destroyed in the war that followed. The Void Chamber's circle was merely buried, not broken. It might still be functional."
Jin-ho considered the implications. If the hatred between humans and demons was artificial—a divine curse rather than natural enmity—then perhaps it could be lifted. Perhaps there was an alternative to the extinction that the Demon God insisted was necessary.
"Can it be activated?" he asked.
Lyria hesitated. "Theoretically, yes. But it would require significant power... and something else." She unrolled the scroll further, pointing to ancient symbols. "The original circle was activated by the union of the Human Queen and Demon King. Their combined essence—one human, one demon—created the necessary balance."
"So we would need a human of royal blood?" Jin-ho frowned. "That seems unlikely in the current climate."
"Not necessarily royal," Lyria clarified. "The text suggests royal blood was used because it contained concentrated divine essence-the Goddess's blessing on the human royal line. But any human strongly blessed by the Goddess might serve."
Jin-ho's thoughts immediately went to the golden Champion. A human blessed with all the Goddess's remaining power in this world.
As if reading his thoughts, Lyria spoke carefully, "The human champion we encountered... the golden one. He carries more of the Goddess's blessing than any human in centuries. Theoretically, he could-"
"He's trying to kill us all," Jin-ho interrupted. "I doubt he'd volunteer to activate ancient peace magic."
"Of course, my King." Lyria bowed again. "I merely present the information as I've discovered it. The practical applications are, admittedly, limited in our current circumstances."
Jin-ho studied the ancient scholar, noting the subtle scent of herbs and lightning that surrounded her-curiosity, the Demon God had explained. But there was something else there too, a faint trace of... hope?
"Continue your research," he instructed. "I want to know everything about these circles—how they were created, how they were destroyed, and most importantly, if there's any way to activate them without human cooperation."
Lyria's eyes widened slightly. "You're considering restoration rather than destruction?"
Jin-ho realized he might have revealed too much of his own reluctance for war. "I'm considering all options," he said carefully. "Knowledge is power, even knowledge of peace."
This seemed to satisfy her. "I'll redouble my efforts, my King. With your permission, I'd like to return to the Void Chamber with additional scholars. Now that we've secured the valley, a more thorough excavation might yield crucial information."
"Granted," Jin-ho nodded. "Take whatever resources you need. But maintain strong guards. I doubt the Champion will wait long to attempt another attack."
"Thank you, my King." Lyria clutched the ancient scroll to her chest, her expression brightening. "This research could change everything."
After she departed, Jin-ho found himself alone again with Kraxis and his thoughts. And, of course, the ever-present voice of the Demon God.
Interesting, the deity commented. You're actually considering peace.
"Isn't that what you want?" Jin-ho asked. "For your 'children' to be safe?"
I want them to survive. Peace would be ideal, but unlikely. The Goddess's curse runs deep. Even if you activated one circle, it would affect only a small area. The hatred would remain everywhere else.
"One circle could lead to more. A starting point."