Heir of the DEMON

I am Batsu... Shi Batsu. My family gave me this name so that I would be as powerful as death itself, bringing destruction and demise upon our enemies. Yet, in a cruel twist of fate, it was by my own hands that I carried that very destruction and death back to my family.

I was born with purple eyes and an unreadable aura—a lucky (!) child, they said. Throughout the entire history of demons, these traits had manifested in only two individuals, including myself. For demons, purple eyes were no mere genetic anomaly; they were a sacred and cursed turning point.

According to history, quadrillions of years ago, before the heavens and the underworld were torn apart, angels and demons lived under the very same sky. In that ancient era, a great apocalypse erupted with the birth of a demon named Azazel: the sky bled crimson, the stars shook, and all existence was plunged into chaos. Azazel was unlike any of his kin; he possessed purple eyes and wings as dark as the night. His presence could not be sensed by any means, yet the sheer might of his essence far surpassed that of any angel or demon. He was, quite literally, a walking god. The angels feared him and cast him out.

Thirty years after his birth, Azazel’s power had transcended all limits. He resolved to establish a homeland where demons could live freely and dictate their own destinies: The Demon Kingdom. Under his leadership, the demons grew formidable and gained the upper hand in their war against the angels. The once-feared, ominous being had become the protector and absolute sovereign of his people. That kingdom became our sanctuary.

As I grew up, I was constantly crushed under the weight of society’s expectations, told that I had inherited Azazel’s eyes and power. I was treated as a superior being, and responsibilities far too heavy for my age were thrust upon my shoulders. My parents never doubted me; they were always my greatest supporters. And I... I thought I wanted to carry this burden myself. Or perhaps, I had simply convinced myself that I did. After fourteen hours of relentless studying during the day, I would do extra training at night, staying up until dawn in the libraries.

When I was only ten years old in human years, I could bring down adult demon warriors—those aged twenty to twenty-three—with a single strike.

I wasn’t doing this just to please the council or my family. Deep within me, there was a burning desire to become the "perfect" monster that society expected me to be. I wanted to be strong—even stronger than Azazel. Did this ambition stem from a society that constantly compared me to him, or was it from my own internal pursuit of perfection? I did not know. But as I grew, I felt that I was the sole person worthy of that throne and kingdom. That was the only thing that mattered to me.

Universally, the strength of all beings is determined by a mysterious energy called Aura. Every demon’s aura is a mirror reflecting their inner power and the depths of their soul. The leveling system is divided by the density and color of this aura. The lowest tier possesses a pale blue aura, while the strongest radiate deep crimson, and legends glow with a brilliant purple. A demon’s rank is determined by specialized sages who can read these auras.

I was one of those sages—known as the youngest "Aura Master" in history. No one believed a mere child could possess such a profound perception of aura, but I had no time to waste convincing them. Especially after the age of ten, time became a precious treasure; I assumed strategic duties for the kingdom, began commanding armies, and managed diplomatic paperwork.

Yet, this glorious era lasted only a single year... And then, that day came.

I was quietly reading a book in my room when an emergency signal rippled across the entire kingdom via the telekinesis network. At first, I dismissed it, thinking it was just a routine border skirmish. But the very next cry of "We are under attack!" made me bolt from my seat. Within seconds, I teleported to the battlefield and directed all armies to the defensive lines.

I was the last to arrive at the front. And the sight that met my eyes tore my soul to pieces.

The demons, my army, my comrades, and... my family. They all stood frozen in place, either standing upright or kneeling down. Their bodies were slowly rotting right before my eyes. This was the forbidden magic of mass slaughter. Did they truly hate us enough to curse us with such a death? Or were we facing a radical enemy willing to sacrifice their own lives just for revenge?

No, the reality was far more despicable. The angels had kept their hands clean once again, making others do their dirty work. Looking at the agonizing, dying human bodies on the ground, the plot became clear. Furthermore, I could distinctly sense the lingering traces of concealment magic left behind by the angels.

My eyes bloodshot with rage. The kingdom I had sacrificed my childhood for, the one I had worked day and night to inherit as its heir, was being erased. My mother and father were rotting to death, and I, the youngest aura master, could do absolutely nothing.

At that moment, I lost consciousness. I don’t remember drawing my sword, nor do I remember casting spells. When I finally came to, my hands were warm; the lifeless bodies of the angels and their collaborators were piled around me like mountains. Standing before me was one of the few surviving high-ranking 'Managers' of the kingdom.

With the corpses on the ground and the blood on my hands... it was obvious what an outsider would think. He was going to blame me. I hoped he wouldn't, hoped he would recognize who I was. I waited, praying he would give me a chance to explain, or use his magical powers to uncover the truth. Instead, without letting me utter a single word, he ordered the guards behind him to execute me.

I lunged at the Manager with speed, but he managed to dodge at the last second. Right then, a guard began raining sharp ice arrows down on me using magic. With flawless reflexes, I slipped past the arrows and infiltrated the guards' blind spot. I was just about to hurl my dagger at the Manager when I noticed the fatal ice arrow coming from behind.

It was too late. Given my position, I couldn't dodge it. The Manager and I—both of us were going to die. I couldn't stop it. But at that exact moment of death, I felt a final wave of mana rising from my mother’s rotting body.

My mother had spent her final breath and her last remaining ounce of strength on me. She imprisoned me in a timeless, spaceless dark infinity—a safe dimensional dungeon where my basic needs would be met. She saved me.

That day, I had fought down to the last drop of my power, but I had lost. Yet, since that day, I did not just sit in this pitch-black void waiting to die.

Before being locked away, while I was still in the outside world, I had studied the theoretical side of magic to the point of obsession. For an entire month, I hadn't slept at all, surviving solely on potions, medicines, and spells to master the theory; however, because I had neglected my health back then, I hadn't paid attention to my physical conditioning. I turned my time in this dark void into an opportunity. I closed all my physical deficits, training and sharpening my body until it matched the theoretical power of my soul. Now, I was flawless in both mind and body.

Right at the peak of this training and isolation, my dark world was suddenly split open by a blinding white light. The void that seemed infinite began to shrink rapidly, crushing me from all sides.

"What the fuck is happening here?!" I thought.

A pain as sharp as a knife stabbed into my head. My stomach turned, and within seconds, the pressure escalated to an unbearable degree.

Then, I felt a warm breeze brush against my face. When I opened my eyes, I saw that I was falling rapidly from the sky toward an unknown world. The scents of nature filling my nose, the vibrant colors dazzling my eyes... These sensations, which I had been deprived of for so long, granted me a fleeting moment of pure bliss. To hear the birds, the wind, the sounds of life again... What a magnificent feeling.

I am Batsu. The child of death and destruction. I have returned.