Jeval raised his hand, dripping with blood as his lips curled up into a feral smile. “This is the end.”

A sea of demons cheered, their howls and growls radiating to the surrounding lands.

“Today, that pathetic king of ours will know fear,” Jeval said.

The skies darkened, thunder crackling within its midst. Bolts of flame, lightning and shadows were released into the air, creating a myriad of colors.

“A king who does not strike down his enemies does not deserve to be on the throne. A king who refuses to take a human’s life does not deserve to be our king!”

Demons tore the ground, ripping into the earth like it was their king’s skin. Saliva dripped from their maws, as if they were anticipating the meal to come.

“The time has come, my brethren, to erase his pitiful existence from our lands. It is time to take back the glory he has withheld from us. Today, demon king Jeval Sylvez will be no more!” Jeval said.

The demons’ roaring grew to unparalleled levels, rattling the earth and skies. Jeval basked in their yells, two of his silver wings splaying out to their maximum length.

Who knew leading a rebellion against one’s self could be so much fun?

“Let us go forth, to the demon king’s castle!” Jeval commanded.

When the sea of demons obeyed him, marching to their grave, Jeval smiled.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

A castle of light loomed in the distance. Its pristine white walls seemed to have more affinity with the empty, azure sky than the dying ground surrounding it. Trents and other plant-like creatures covered the ground, their decaying, charcoal branches infecting the land with darkness.

The swarm of rebels reached the castle. And at that moment, everything started. The pitiful amount of guards was no match for this army of traitors. Demons tore into other demons. Massive numbers overwhelmed mediocre power, and the castle doors were breached.

The grand building was turned into a war site. Blood and gore coated the white floors while cracks decorated the walls like webs. Luckily Jeval had maids and other servants to take care of that. But then he remembered that the rebels had already killed all of his loyal servants. Oh well, he’d figure something out.

The sea of demons crowded around in the one room that would lead them to their last destination. A pile of bones laid waste in a corner, the remnants of their last battle and victory.

Jeval found it funny that nobody questioned how easy this was. He’d specifically ordered his stronger guards not to interfere, but the traitors had still lost a third of their forces. So perhaps that played a part in this game.

The remaining demons were the strongest of the bunch, covered in blood, scratches, and a delicious aroma. Jeval’s forked tongue flicked out. Soon.

Feeling his hunger affecting him, Jeval stalked to the front of the crowd. “Comrades! Behind those doors is where the coward lies. We have killed all his weak servants, proving that we possess strength he could never reach. Go forth! For power, freedom and massacre!”

“For massacre!”

“For freedom!”

“For power!”

The demons echoed his words. And if there really were a demon king behind those doors, he probably would’ve turned tail and ran already. Perhaps that was just another reason why Jeval was different from the rest.

With his brilliant speech done, Jeval kicked open the doors leading to the demon king’s chamber. Surprisingly, none of the demons rushed past him into the room. Instead they all watched him, their leader in this rebellion, as if waiting for orders. It reminded Jeval of his other servants.

Now they were just making him feel bad. Oh well. What he was going to do next would make him feel great.

Jeval flew into the air above the demons before pointing into the dark room. “Charge!’

A great roar accompanied hundreds of demons storming into the massive room, trampling anything beneath their feet. By the time the last straggler entered the room, the rebels had noticed something was wrong. They searched everywhere, knocking over valuable mana stones and other items in Jeval’s treasury. But Jeval knew that no matter how hard they looked, they’d never find the demon king.

Because he was right here, standing at the doorway.

With a snap of his fingers, the doors slammed shut. Hundreds of eyes turned to the source of the loud noise, only to find Jeval standing in front of the closed doors.

Jeval let his magic bleed into his skin, changing his silver scales to a crimson red. His other two wings clawed their way out of his back, covered in golden blood as they emerged from his skin.

Clawed hands ripped the ruby necklace secured around his throat, placing the gem over his left eye. The ruby jewel melted in his hands, the liquid streaming down his skin. It then solidified and created a mask that covered half of his face.

Jeval removed his hand from his face, revealing their king, a demon with scales the hue of blood, four draconic wings, and a mask covering half his face.

Jeval removed his hand from his face and revealed their killer.

He smiled.

<><><>

The adventurers allowed themselves a moment of bliss.

This was it.

The massive doors leading to the demon king's chamber creaked open, the screeching sound akin to that of a dying banshee. Dale pulled his sword from the dragon's skull. Blood the hue of starless skies clung to his greatsword, tainting the white blade the color of sin.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Their mage quietly mumbled the opening of a grand class spell, preparing the first strike. Her staff glowed a soft blue, and when she nodded to the other three party members, they walked past the great steel doors to their last destination.

A pitiful amount of candles lit the dark recesses of the demon king's room. But these were no ordinary adventurers; they had long perfected the art of seeing in complete darkness.

But perhaps just this one time, it would've been better to see nothing.

Corpses littered the room, some humanoid but most not. Limbs were torn from their sockets. Wings were ripped from their roots. And an endless amount of eyes stared into oblivion. Blood decorated the walls, as if a painter had slashed red all over his canvass in a mad fit.

And in the center of this madness sat a human-looking demon that had abandoned his throne of gold in exchange for a pile of bones.

Hair the color of liquid silver drifted down his pale skin in smooth waves. Four great wings were planted on his back, their crimson scales glistening like diamonds. His pupils were slits against deep red eyes, as if someone had slashed him and let the blood bleed out.

His clawed hand crushed a ghoul's skull. The sound of a million bells shattering echoed throughout the room while green blood dripped down his red, scaled hand. He rose from his throne of death, taking his sweet time in this silent graveyard. His spiked tail caressed the floor, trapping stray bones before snapping them like twigs.

The king gave a smile. Shivers ran down the adventurers' backs. It was an easy smile, kind and modest. Yet there was something about it, something that seemed off.

Then Dale realized what it was. There was no malice in this demon king's features. No evidence of his intent to kill, no rage against them, no bloodlust, there was nothing.

Only that good-natured smile was on his face.

And for some reason, that was scarier than the corpses on the floor.

"Welcome fools." The demon king's voice sliced through the silence like a killing strike.

"I'd congratulate you for getting this far but," the demon king's smile grew wider, showcasing his sharp teeth, "words mean little to corpses."

At that sentenced their mage cast her grand-class spell, and the adventurers jumped into action. Serpents of flame charged at the demon, blazing through the room like an inferno. The demon king merely raised his clawed hand. He didn't even bother dodging, and what the adventurers saw next proved to them that he didn't even need to.

Serpents of red blaze were converted to darkness. The flames of the spell corroded into black wisps as they neared the demon king, before disappearing into oblivion. This scary turn of events planted a seed of doubt into Dale's mind, but by then he was already in front of the demon king, imbuing his holy sword with mana.

The sharp blade bit into the king's arm, cutting two thirds into the limb. Fresh, golden blood leaked out the wound, coating the holy blade in a metallic sheen. Dale quickly retreated after his assault, letting his allies strike the iron while it was hot.

Magic did little against the demon king, the spells seeming to die before they even reached him. But in term of melee prowess, he was pathetic.

Arrows pierced his skin like paper while swords broke through his scales like butter. The demon would sometimes parry their weapons with his claws, but most of the time he was too slow. Their mage had long ago stopped her attack-based spells, instead moving onto support-based spells.

Dale felt his confidence rising, but then again he shouldn’t have been surprised at this result. They were SS class adventurers on a leisure A class demon king subjugation quest. This demon had only been a king for a month or so, and if the multitude of demon corpses they saw before had anything to say, he apparently wasn’t a very powerful king. Demons only obeyed the strong, and there had evidently been a rebellion that happened not long ago.

Dale joined in on the fight, swinging his great sword like a tornado. A diagonal slash removed one of the demon’s arms that he used to defend himself. Another slash tore into the demon’s chest, covering his body in golden blood.

They were winning. They were dominating this fight.

Dale saw an opportunity appear as the demon king looked away for a moment to deal with the archer. With practiced ease, he swung his sword at the demon.

The demon king grunted as the holy great sword pierced his chest, right where his crystal core should be. The demon staggered away from him, sword still imbedded in his chest. Dale thought his aim was perfect. Dale thought this was the end.

Yet where was that satisfying crunch he always heard when destroying a crystal core?

The demon king looked up, eyes reflecting the nonexistent lighting. Bloody lips curled up into a smile before opening to say one childish word.

“Kidding!”

The demon king straightened his posture before pulling out the sword from his body. Golden ichor was revealed for a moment before the wound sealed itself, leaving health and perfection in its place. His previous wounds also healed themselves in moments, not even leaving scars in their place.

The feeling of dead returned to Dale.

The demon king smiled. “Now, shall we begin our fight?”