Chapter 1
== The Dull Day ==
To many, spring was the season of wonder, where the once silver land changed into rainbow-colored paradise. Flowers appeared, trees regained their lives, and the air began to warm up. It was a shame that the calmness of spring didn’t reach the emperor.
He opened his eyes with a groan, feeling dizzy. It was around six in the morning, but his bedroom was dark. The curtains covered every window in the room and most of the candles were unlit. Rather than a demon’s chambers, they fit to be called a vampire’s resting chambers.
He was the one who killed Narnegill and claimed the title of the emperor. For now, other countries outside the border didn’t even know that he existed. They were falsely fed news that some Narnegill was killed in a rebellion. A peace-loving prime minister was taking over the ruling and quickly dispose of the rebels party.
They took the bait, to his surprise. Or maybe they were pretending to be stupid and harnessing power to trample the Empire. Either way, the Empire was ready should another war broke.
The emperor had many names, some of which represented him rather unfairly. The “acting god” of the Empire, the dictatorial swine of northern Altra Vita, the Mad Emperor, and many more. Despite the numerous names, he was best known as the Demon Lord Azolos.
He didn’t mind, though.
Azolos shifted around. Facing the ceiling, he tried to recall what had happened the night before. Memories slowly were flooding his mind as he concentrated.
Right. He was attending some vampire noble’s party, not as the Demon Lord, but as a Duke of Chartenburry, Ezelel. He had many aliases in the Empire, especially in Reisevetl, the Empire’s capital. He loved to hear the latest news directly from his people instead of his personal spies.
Born with pale skin and equally pale blonde hair, people often mistook him as a vampire and he had long lost his will to explain things. Let them think what they wanted, he didn’t even care.
Azolos covered his mouth. Now that he remembered it, there in the party...
...he drank a glass of blood...
He felt like vomiting but held himself strong. The weekly training he had would be meaningless if he threw up here.
He sat after giving himself a light slap on the cheeks. Though the scent and taste of blood lingered on somewhere inside his mind, he ignored it and rose to his feet. He was the almighty Demon Lord. A little blood wouldn’t make him sick.
...maybe.
He washed his face, avoiding looking at himself in the mirror. Whatever stared back in that block of glass wasn’t really to his liking. As soon as he had his helmet on, there were knockings on the door.
His personal servants entered the room quietly as they always did. After bowing politely, they dispersed to do their jobs. Two maids were making his bed, two other were drawing the curtains, and the last one was preparing the bath.
Azolos didn’t feel the need to say anything and neither did they. It wasn’t like he hated humans, but he wasn’t the type to have small talks. What was more, his servants always maintained a respectful silence and preferred to speak when necessary, thus double the reason to keep quiet.
“The bath is ready, Quinte,” one of them informed.
Azolos nodded at the girl.
Quinte meant Emperor in the ancient devils language. It incidentally became a name everyone used to address him. Once again, Azolos didn’t mind.
He walked to his indoor pool, which was steaming with hot water. Inside, the servants undressed him but leaving his helmet intact for they knew that removing the piece of metal was punishable by death.
A sigh escaped his thin lips once his skin made a contact with the hot water. He felt hands massaged his shoulders and arms, and his muscles relaxed. The burdens and problems he carried on his shoulders slowly disappeared.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
After taking a long, balmy bath, he was clothed in a bulky set of black armor. A crimson cape adorned his shoulders, making his already regal appearance beyond words. Strong and anti-magic—he was protected from physical and magical attacks, although beings with higher power such as golems could easily make mincemeat of him.
When he stepped inside to his workroom, someone was already inside. It was Itheo, his trusted subordinate and the head of the Imperial Knights, the highest order of knight who protected the Emperor and Reisevetl, the capital. Accustomed to living in the darkness, Itheo’s dazzling, white armor stunned Azolos and he quickly averted his gaze.
“Good morning,” he heard Itheo’s greeting but made no sound to greet him back.
The younger devil knew of his habit and resumed reading his report.
“What’s the situation outside?” Azolos asked curtly.
Itheo shrugged, “All good. All peace. To tell you the truth, it’s boring.”
Azolos arched his brow, “Peace is where the force of darkness may attack. They take us by surprise, using our peaceful time and lack of alertness as a perfect moment to strike. I told you many times, already, and you forget that?”
Itheo chuckled, “I will not forget that, rest assured. I was just stating the obvious. I knew you feel it, too. The lack of human adventurers to challenge you to a duel, the lack of amusement in this dull castle...”
“You are right. All I have to do now is sit on this chair and read documents,” Azolos answered truthfully. “My arms feel like jelly for not being used in such a long time. Have you any idea to make it... less boring, then?”
The younger devil lifted his brows, “And why are you asking me? My job is to keep everything safe and protected, not the other way around.”
“A workaholic, aren’t you?”
“I’m just too dedicated to my work, thank you very much.”
Azolos stared outside the window and leaned against his fist. It had been ten years after the defeat of Narnegill and everything had been calm ever since. Other races outside of the border remained quiet these past few years.
Now was truly a peaceful time.
What Itheo had said was true. He was bored to death. Born as a warrior, he couldn’t just sit around reading. His hands itched to smash some skulls, his brain relished the idea of bathing in a pool of blood, and he savored the helpless expression on the enemies’ faces.
He wasn’t called the Black Emperor for nothing.
“Where is Ios, by the way?” as soon as Azolos said that, the door opened so suddenly it shocked them. Then came another knight in white, shouting while lifting his hand up in the air, “Yo yo yo! What’s up, everyone?!”
No one replied, though. In fact, no one even bothered to say something.
Itheo sighed, “Knock next time unless you want either of us dies from heart attack.”
The newcomer scratched the back of his helmet, “Ah, sorry, Chief.”
After the new knight sat across Itheo, Azolos opened his mouth, “Do you have an idea to make my days more... meaningful?”
“Describe meaningful,” no one seemed to care the way the new guy talked to his emperor.
“To be honest, my days are just a repetition of boring events. Wake up, check the reports until late afternoon, respond to numerous petitions, put my signature in endless documents, have dinner with family, check the reports again, and sleep.”
“What kind of life is that?” the new guy exclaimed.
“My thought, exactly. What kind of life is this when I repeatedly do what I have done yesterday?”
“Why don’t you take a walk or something?”
Azolos let out a sigh, “Ios, with or without this armor, I stand out in the crowds. Like a rotten mango amongst a pile of bananas.”
Ios, the new knight, took off his helmet and fell into a deep silence. Sometimes later he spoke, “Ah, how about this... one of the highest ranking Imperial Knights’ regular trainings is to do a mock assassination.”
Oh, Azolos knew this. The mock assassination training was actually Ios’ idea. It was to teach them the real assassination atmosphere, as well as train their judgment, survivability, tactics, and teamwork (if they were working as a group).
The rule was simple. A team had to kill the designated target of the opposing team, while the other had to figure out who was the target as well as protect them until the time limit was over.
“And...?”
“I was thinking of involving you.”
“Ah,” Azolos get what Ios was trying to say. “Do explain.”
“This time, we’ve been assassinating someone from the opposing team and they boys are kind of bored fighting each other.”
“Basically you want me as a new target,” it was not a question.
“Little risk cannot hurt. Besides, I knew you’re not the type to die so easily,” Ios smiled cruelly. “It’d be a great exercise for you and the boys. They are eager to know how strong you are. Some even underestimate you, to tell you the truth, since you’ve never shown your power to anyone.”
“Ah. So now you are using me to discipline them.”
Itheo watched them in a wary silence. From the start, he didn’t like Ios a little bit. He was crazy.
“If I could be so bold, yes.”
Azolos didn’t fear to die. He was on the verge of death many times. This proposal was too tempting to refuse. As a warrior, he wanted to test how powerful his personal knights were. If they turned out to be a failure, he wouldn’t hesitate to castrate them.
“Agreed.”
Ios gave him a big grin, “Awesome! I will inform them right now. Everything will begin once you’re ready.”
Azolos nodded and was back reading his reports. He knew Itheo didn’t approve of him being the target of the mock assassination, for the knights who Ios trained had a bad reputation. Although it was but mere training, they did their jobs too well.
Almost too well that their target ended up dead.