The Demon king's Last oath

The throne room was silent, save for the crackling of distant fires. The obsidian walls, once a symbol of unyielding power, now bore jagged cracks, bleeding molten veins of destruction. At the center of it all sat the Demon King, slouched on his massive throne, his crimson eyes dim with exhaustion.

Before him stood the hero, sword in hand, its blade glowing with divine light.

"Do you regret it, mortal?" The Demon King's voice was low, a rumble that echoed in the chamber.

The hero tightened his grip, trembling with fury. "Regret what? The lives you've destroyed? The cities you've razed to the ground? Or the countless innocents who begged for mercy while you watched them burn?"

A bitter smile tugged at the Demon King's lips. "No, not that." He leaned forward, his massive frame casting a shadow over the hero. "Do you regret coming here? To the heart of despair, to face a monster you could never truly understand?"

The hero faltered, just for a moment. This wasn't what he expected. No roaring threats, no promises of vengeance. The Demon King looked… tired.

"I didn't come here to understand you," the hero spat. "I came here to end you!"

The Demon King chuckled, a sound that held no joy. "End me? Perhaps you will. But tell me, hero… what comes after? What will you do when the world you fought to save still crumbles under its own greed and hatred?"

"Enough!" The hero's voice cracked, his composure slipping. He lunged forward, blade aimed for the Demon King's heart.

The Demon King didn't move.

The holy sword pierced his chest with a sickening sound, sinking deep into flesh. The hero stared into the Demon King's eyes, expecting pain, fear, something. But all he saw was relief.

"It is done," the Demon King whispered, his body shuddering as dark mist began to rise from the wound. "With my death, the oath is fulfilled… The war ends here."

The hero stepped back, confusion and rage warring on his face. "What… what are you talking about? What oath?"

The Demon King's form began to dissolve into shadows, his deep voice growing faint. "A promise… to a world that didn't deserve it."

The last thing he saw was the hero's wide-eyed expression, and then everything faded to black.

Years Later…

The cries of a newborn echoed through the grand halls of House Thorne, one of the most prestigious noble families in the kingdom of Velthoria.

"Congratulations, my lord!" The midwife beamed as she carefully swaddled the child. "A healthy boy!"

The proud Marquess of Thorne, a broad-shouldered man with streaks of silver in his hair, leaned down to gaze at his son. "A boy at last," he murmured, his voice soft with wonder. "Caius. His name will be Caius."

In the midwife's arms, the infant opened his eyes for the first time. For a brief moment, his irises gleamed crimson before softening into a deep, piercing blue.

The child stared up at the Marquess with an intensity that made the man step back. "Strange…" the Marquess muttered. "It's almost as if he's… judging me."

Caius' Thoughts (Unspoken)

The infant stirred, his tiny fingers curling into a fist. Though his body was weak, his mind was anything but. Memories of fire, war, and destruction surged within him, clashing against the strange new sensations of life.

"So, this is what comes after…" he thought.

He could feel it, the remnants of his power, like dying embers buried deep within. They were faint, almost imperceptible, but they were there.

"This body is frail," he mused. "But it will grow. And when it does…"

A flicker of hesitation entered his thoughts.

"No. I made a vow."

The last moments of his previous life returned to him: the hero's blade, the weight of his oath, the promise to bring peace. He had sworn to end the cycle of hatred and destruction he had helped perpetuate.

"But why this? Why as a human? And why… as a child?"

The cries of his mother snapped him from his thoughts. She held him now, her tearful smile warm and unfamiliar.

"Welcome to the world, my little Caius," she whispered, her voice trembling with joy.

For the first time in centuries, the former Demon King felt something he couldn't quite name.

"This… might not be so bad," he thought, as sleep finally claimed him.