At last, we arrived at our destination. Stepping out of the carriage, the sun beat down relentlessly, and I could feel the heat of the red sand through the soles of my feet.

The dunes rose and fell in front of me, and the shifting sand made it feel like the very ground was alive beneath my feet.

I could see the demons trembling in fear as they looked ahead. The guards, still indifferent, arranged each of the slaves, leading them to the place where their fate awaited. Three silhouettes loomed in front of them, one of which was a bulky figure.

As I looked towards the place where my shackles would be fully locked, I couldn't help but gasp for breath. The scene in front of me couldn't compare to any place on Earth.

A majestic kingdom rose up from the sands like a mirage. Its clay and sandstone buildings blended seamlessly with the surrounding landscape. The streets were lined with palm trees, providing welcome shade from the blazing sun.

The demon slaves started marching towards it. With every step they made, their heartbeats quickened. One could see nervousness and anxiety on their faces as they approached the place where only pain and suffering awaited them.

They could do nothing but pray to their Lord, asking for someone to save them, hoping for something good to happen.

-Clank! -Clank!

Chains rattled as they walked heavily, all muttering the same words,

"Oh Great Azrael...What did we do to deserve this?

"From the day we were born, we merely followed our desires and instincts you provided us, to conquer and devour yet...look at us! Going to be slaves of prey we used to suppress!"

Shivers ran down my spine when I heard that. I realized that this world was really different from the fantasy novels I read. Demons were the oppressed, and humans were the oppressors.

In my world, it's more likely the same as "I'm the most powerful man, I'm the oppressor, and I'm human." The only difference is the power they wield and the fact that I'm now part of the former and I'm a demon.

Which is a very big deal to me as people can no longer see me as good, as I'm one of the creatures that represent evil. I can no longer be called a hero as he was the light that would help people in darkness. I can no longer find a wife who is human as they will see me as a vile and disgusting creature.

This is the problem that I ignored as, for this world...

The tables had turned.

***

As we continued walking, I couldn't help but notice the sandstone walls that seemed to glow in the bright sun. They were specifically designed to withstand sandstorms and keep out dangerous creatures. The grand gate, adorned with intricate carvings of desert creatures, greeted us upon entering.

Once inside, my attention was immediately drawn to the magnificent palace, towering above all the other buildings. Its walls were adorned with exquisite carvings, and its golden domes shimmered under the desert sun. Surrounding the palace were lush gardens and refreshing fountains, providing a much-needed respite from the arid climate.

As we navigated the winding streets, I couldn't ignore the arrogance and disgust that emanated from the people as they cast their eyes upon us. The women wore veils to shield themselves from the sun's harsh rays, while the men donned turbans to stay cool. Their twisted faces and narrowed eyes revealed their disdain.

"I can't believe there are so many slaves..."

"Yeah, and they're demons, no less."

"Wow... I'm tempted to buy one!"

"Me too, but... the way they're going, it seems like His Majesty is involved... so I will pass."

"Then forget it. Money aside, they're so disgusting anyway..."

As I listened to the murmurs of the people around us, we were led towards a large, open area encircled by towering sandstone walls. As we approached, I noticed the sandy ground beneath our feet, and in the center of the area stood a raised platform, guarded by individuals clad in leather armor.

A sinking feeling filled my heart as the realization struck me. This was the place where we, the slaves, would be bought and sold.

As I was guided closer to the platform, I observed the demons trembling in fear. I wondered what could be causing them such intense distress until I caught a glimpse of a figure seated atop the platform, watching over us. The sheer power and authority radiating from him left no doubt as to his identity.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

He was the ruler of this desert kingdom, dressed in regal robes and adorned with glittering jewels. His face remained concealed behind a veil, but I could feel his penetrating gaze, as if he could see into the depths of my being.

Beside him, a group of beauties attended to his needs, offering him various small fruits. Surrounding the platform were individuals of high rank, their eyes shimmering with a look that implied we were nothing more than valuable tools.

The ruler gestured for us to be brought closer. As I made my first step, I felt the air went chilly. Then with every steps I took, it became harder and harder to breathe, until my knees went numb.

'Fuck! What's happening?!'

I glanced around and realized I wasn't the only one experiencing this. All the demons were forced to kneel in the presence of the king.

The pressure I felt wasn't a mere bloodlust; it was something deeper, as if a force was constricting my heart, tightening its grip. I also noticed the fear in the eyes of those around us, distinct from the fear we demons were experiencing.

With each passing second, my consciousness teetered on the edge. Sweat poured down my body, tears streaming from my eyes.

Gritting my teeth, I knew that passing out would have dire consequences, the outcome of which I couldn't fathom.

Seeing the demons who helplessly kneeled in front of his power, the king who's watching from above made a satisfied smile. He waved his hand and suddenly the pressure dissipated as if it never existed.

-Bwergh!

The sound of retching filled the area as the demons, overwhelmed by the abrupt release, began vomiting. The scene was so repugnant that onlookers had to avert their eyes.

I coughed up a mouthful of blood and felt a liquid dripping from my nose. Looking at the crimson fluid, I felt dizzy and a sudden wave of nausea washed over me.

'Shit! I'm really hemophobic!' I cursed, wiping my nose with the collar of my tattered clothes.

I quickly pushed that problem to the back of my mind; it wasn't the most important thing right now.

Seated above us was the strongest man I had ever encountered since coming to this world. The kind of pressure he released to make us kneel in front of him, combined with the thousands of books and novels I had read in my library, told me that he wasn't giving his all.

'He's holding back.'

Every hair on my body stood on end as I realized that he could squash us like bugs with his pressure alone, but he chose not to. It was clear that we were not his intended targets; we were merely examples. He was demonstrating his absolute power and control, not just to us slaves, but also to the watching parliament.

Slowly lifting my head, I saw the king rise from his seat, his voice piercing my soul as he spoke.

"Slaves...

"I welcome you all to my realm, The Paradise of the West and The Fourth Bastion...

"The Shahara Kingdom!"

***

*Puff*

Sitting in one of the seats surrounding the platform, a middle-aged man could be seen puffing smoke as it diffused in the air.

Duke Heimer, one of the members of Parliament, watched as the slaves entered one of the training grounds in Shahara. It wasn't just any training ground; it was the king's favorite and sometimes held very special meetings. And at this very moment, one of those special meetings was taking place.

*Puff*

After exhaling another cloud of smoke, Duke Heimer handed the remaining tobacco to his assistant, requesting another one.

"I wonder what this is all about," he pondered, looking at the demon slaves that had just arrived on the platform, walking towards the place indicated by the guards.

He took the tobacco from his assistant and brought it to his mouth. Just as he was about to ask for a light, a sudden pressure bore down, causing his tobacco to fall to the ground.

"Hm?" He frowned as he looked at the king, who released a heavy pressure to force the slaves to kneel in front of him.

"How bold."

He picked up his tobacco and brought it back to his mouth. This time, he lit it himself.

-Flick!

With a flick, a small flame appeared on the tip of his index finger, slowly lighting up the tobacco in his mouth.

*Puff*

Exhaling a white smoke, he glanced at the other members of Parliament, whose faces were now filled with horror and fear. He could see cracks appearing in their armrests as sweat trickled down from their foreheads.

Suddenly, he saw the king wave his hand and the pressure dissipated.

The demons all retched at this sudden release. Green and crimson fluids appeared all over the platform.

Duke Heimer, watching this, leaned back in his chair. He puffed out another smoke as his gaze returned to the king. The king was still sitting at the top as if nothing had ever happened, but he could sense the mocking smile behind the veil.

Then he shifted his gaze to the other members of Parliament, who were wiping their sweat as they regained their composure.

"I see," he muttered with a hint of enlightenment in his voice. "Looks like he found out."

He took the tobacco out of his mouth and once again handed it to his assistant. This time, the tobacco was half finished. Seeing this, the assistant didn't offer him another one. He knew that the Duke was in a sour mood.

The king stood up and started welcoming the slaves, but Duke Heimer didn't hear any of it as his mind was preoccupied with something else.

"Did someone sell us out?" he thought, then shook his head, realizing it seemed impossible considering they had signed a contract.

"Or did he find out on his own?"

Duke Heimer stared at the king for a moment, recalling all the information provided by their spy. He took a deep breath and sighed.

"Regardless of what it is... we underestimated the king."

Then he stood up from his seat and left. His assistant followed closely behind. Their figures grew smaller and smaller until they disappeared from sight.

Smoke lingered in his chair. One might think that the assistant had left the tobacco behind, but upon closer inspection, black remnants could be seen scattered beneath the chair. Above, the armrest turned black, resembling charcoal.

***

Back on the platform, the demon slaves listened to what the king was saying. With each passing minute, their faces grew paler as they shook their heads, clearly unable to believe what they were hearing.

Are we having a nightmare? Is this for real? These thoughts echoed in their minds.

In the center of the platform stood a young demon with coal-black hair. He stared blankly with his deep blue eyes, his hands trembling, and his mouth opening and closing as he seemed to repeatedly mutter something to himself.

"I'm dead... I'm going to die."