A prolonged silence, an endless exchange of looks. On the edge of the corner of that maze with decorative foliage stood Geronimo, his expression just as petrified, for the demon king who had waged a centuries-old war against the kingdom, was now before his eyes.

Artoris, on the other hand, was facing his classmate, except he wasn't wearing sneakers or branded tees but a daunting armor with metal plates and steel elements that made him unrecognizable.

Was that really Geronimo? The guy who'd rather leap off a cliff than dress up as an anime character? The one who'd mock anyone caught reading a comic or playing a fantasy RPG on the computer, preferring to stick to sports instead? He seemed like the typical guy who'd follow the crowd rather than pursue his passions. But was it really him?

Unrecognizable.

If it truly was that Geronimo, he must have put in a lot of effort. The interface showed he had reached level 20, even surpassing Artoris.

All he could wonder was how long Geronimo had been teleported into this world.

Now it was clear.

A sudden wave of nausea enveloped Artoris, barely able to stand, as he remembered why he had been teleported to this world. He recalled the cruel prank Geronimo had played on him, yes, he remembered, and it was excruciating pain.

A tremendous humiliation, it had taken just a fire extinguisher to end the life of an insignificant student.

Artoris's legs were shaking; he wanted to run away, to flee from his worst nightmare.

No magical beast could instill as much fear in him as Geronimo did.

The humiliations inflicted by Geronimo had shaped his identity, turning him into a teenager scared of life and others.

Geronimo would mock Arturo, even in death, haunting him even in the underworld.

He would ridicule him publicly in front of everyone: from the realm of Heden to the demons. Everyone would see how fake their king was, just a dummy manipulated by a fool.

Without hesitation, Geronimo's hand slid down, drawing the sword from its sheath and pointing it at the demon.

"Get out!"

Meanwhile, Artoris was absorbed in admiring the sunlight's reflection on his sword's blade. His gaze fell on the shoulder plates, two metal slabs, on the rest of the armor completely encased in steel. Moreover, on his forehead, he wore a band with an amulet at the center, which sparkled occasionally.

This time, Arturo couldn't ask anyone for help; he wasn't in the right condition. In this fantasy world, Geronimo was the hero, the one who would sacrifice himself for a just cause. A free and triumphant spirit, it's known that in the realm of games, good always prevails over evil.

Geronimo kept a certain distance from him, doing nothing but observing his horns. He tried to contain his fear, grinding his teeth and waving his sword threateningly.

"Fuck off!" shouted Geronimo. "You came here for me, didn't you?"

No response.

"I'll shove this sword up your ass if you don't leave!"

Artoris recognized his voice, his look, and his behaviors; it was Geronimo, through and through.

Artoris collapsed to his knees, devoid of any will to resist. He clutched his hair, repeating the same words obsessively, like a robot short-circuiting.

"Don't hit me, don't hit me!"

Geronimo raised an eyebrow.

"What the hell are you talking about?!"

"Don't hit me. Geronimo."

Hearing the demon's last gasp, Geronimo gripped his sword fiercely.

"How do you know my real name?!"

Artoris looked up, disoriented, with tears streaming down like waterfalls.

"Y...you! How is it possible that you know the name of my previous life?"

What did that mean? Geronimo didn't know that Arturo was in Artoris's body.

This certainty brought a relieved smile to Artoris's face, so bright he couldn't contain the joy he felt.

Suddenly, Artoris's sixth sense kicked in, sending a jolt through his mind while his body instinctively reacted, slamming him to the ground with an irresistible gravitational force. Had his sixth sense not activated in time, Geronimo's slash would have split Artoris in two, but fortunately, it sprang into action promptly.

Artoris got up and backflipped like he never had before. He took off in the opposite direction, running along the narrow corridor of the maze.

Geronimo charged after him, sword gripped firmly.

Artoris tried to become a shadow, but there was too little sunlight to activate the skill.

"Idiot! I'll kill you, you shitty demon!"

Artoris rounded the maze's curve.

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"Try to catch me if you can!" Artoris shouted provocatively.

He regained his wax and, while running, tried to force a smile.

I'm faster anyway!

Geronimo ran with the determination of a rugby player, really getting into it since the demon was pushing the limits.

He gripped the sword firmly, and suddenly a blue aura enveloped the weapon entirely.

From Geronimo's mouth came the following:

"AVAN STRASH!"

Artoris's eyes widened.

A river of energy poured over Artoris as he turned to face it. It was an attack of extraordinary power, worthy of a true hero. It seemed like a move straight out of an old game, perhaps the best he had ever played. This strike even surpassed Artoris's resistance to ranged attacks, piercing the invisible barrier that protected him.

The strike hit its mark, and a burst of light expanded in the surrounding area. The decorative maze was gone, just a hint of scorched leaves left behind, narrowly avoiding setting the entire royal garden ablaze.

Geronimo looked on with satisfaction at the work he had done.

"Who would've thought, the demon king would show up today."

He sheathed his sword.

As the smoke cleared, Artoris was still standing, his cloak reduced to tatters, injuries scattered across his skin.

"Ha ha ha ha!"

Artoris burst into laughter.

"Who would've thought? Defeated by a move from my favorite video game!"

Artoris fell to his knees, bleeding and drained of strength, he lifted his hand and gave a thumbs-up.

"Great choice! I always used it as a kid..."

Out of breath and with blurred vision, his eyelids closed instantly, and soon, darkness.

Artoris opened his eyes, feeling a chill at his feet. He looked around and saw nothing but pitch-black darkness. He couldn't feel his legs, except for a tight grip squeezing his skin.

His eyes focused on the surroundings, and he saw a series of steel bars. His hands were also bound, shackled tightly together.

Every time he tried to activate a skill, the command was rejected; there was a field inside the cell blocking the flow of mana.

He approached the bars and tried to push them open, even tried gnawing at them with his fangs, but nothing, they were too sturdy.

"Let me out! I don't want to stay in here."

From the edges of the path, he heard moans echoing through an underground duct. He looked to the edge and saw a knight standing, quickly sipping from a hidden wine jug inside a bag.

"Hey! You're a knight, right? Help me! I've been made a prisoner!"

The knight directed his gaze toward the cell, walking steadily towards the bars. His face was slightly obscured by the helmet, expression unreadable.

"Let me out of here!"

The knight lifted the jug to his lips and drained it in one gulp. He lowered it and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Why are you yelling like that?!"

"Let me out!"

"You're telling me, you want out of this cell?"

"Y...yes!"

"Be quiet, I only take orders from the king."

"I'm a king too, I can give you everything you want, treasures, riches, and women!"

"Ha ha ha! You think you can persuade me with those words?"

Artoris gripped the bars and glared at the knight with a piercing look.

"Do you know who I am?" Artoris sneered. "Doesn't this face look familiar to you?"

Shaken by those words, the knight's eyes widened as much as they could, given the dim light from the few torches illuminating the cell.

Seeing the way he stared, Artoris continued to speak.

"The demon king, architect of a massacre, millions of corpses, millions dead in the kingdom of Heden, women, and children slaughtered, and if you don't let me out of here, I'll end your life right this moment, even without powers."

The jug slipped from the knight's hand as he started to back away.

"Exactly, back off, be afraid of me!"

It's working!

"I am Artoris!"

His last words echoed through all the cells. The knight stared at him with a twisted look and raised an eyebrow.

"Doesn't sound intimidating as a name."

"YOU TOO NOW?!"

The knight's cold demeanor turned into a mocking gaze.

"Shut up, now that you're locked up in that cell, you're nobody, you're worthless, just another common prisoner."

Artoris tried every way to retort.

"My subjects will come for me, they won't let me get hurt. They already know exactly where I am."

What a bitter disappointment, that the knight was not swayed. Virtue had completely fried his brain.

"It's not fair!" Artoris shouted. "I haven't done anything! I haven't killed anyone!"

"Believe me! I did nothing wrong, I just came to the surface to get some fresh air, I had no idea I'd end up in your royal gardens."

Artoris's echo amplified along the entire underground duct, but he received no response. He only heard the sound of the knight's footsteps going up the stairs. Once the door was locked, no one would have access to those dungeons, except that knight.

Before closing the door, the knight heard the sound of something heavy, like a stone, hitting the floor. He turned slightly.

"What was that?!"

"You win, I can't resist any longer. I completely surrender. Since I can't do anything else with my life locked up here, I offer you a gift to present to the king, a gift of immeasurable value."

"Which is?"

"See for yourself, your king will love it."

The knight hesitated and turned slightly.

"You think you can deceive me like this?"

Artoris threw something outside the bars.

"Here."

"What did you throw?"

"See for yourself."

The knight went down the steps and headed to where the object had fallen. He bent down and lit it with a torch. The light revealed a horn, and then he directed his gaze back to the cell, lighting up Artoris, with blood dripping from his forehead.

"A royal horn, your king might like it a lot. You know, receiving a royal horn on the first occasion isn't something that happens every day. It's invaluable, you could make a lot of money from it, of course, since you're a loyal servant, I guess you'll give it to your king, right?"

"Yes... Royal horns are worth a lot..."

Artoris touched his remaining horn.

"Do you want this one too?"

The knight's eyes twisted, but they were also lit up.

Having two demon horns, especially of royal blood, was a more unique than rare opportunity.

These were horns that stood out from the common demon lineage, not all of which radiated such vast mana vibrations. Besides being a rare material, they were usable for crafting healing potions, magical weapons, various enhancements, and a thousand other experiments that could be conducted on them. Having one of these horns from a demon king meant changing one's life and the world itself.

That knight would become a far more significant figure, one who would leave a mark in history if he made the best use of those horns. The knight's eyes sparkled brighter than gold. He stared with a crazed look at the demon behind the bars.

"Do you want this one too?" Artoris said, touching his other horn. "Set me free, and it's yours."