Aurelia, now living as Kaelthar, walked with heavy steps through the dark corridors of the Demon King’s castle. His large, powerful body moved slowly through the shadowed halls. Behind him, he could hear the heavy footsteps of his siblings following.
He did not need to turn around to know they were there. Their presence was unmistakable. The aura he had unleashed—burning with seething hatred—had drawn them like moths to a flame.
The corridors, usually silent, now felt crowded even though only a handful of his siblings were actually following him. At first they walked in silence, but eventually one of them spoke.
“Hey, Kaelthar.”
The deep, rough voice of one of his older brothers, Vulkran, broke the quiet.
“That hatred you released earlier… it was incredible. I could feel it in my bones. It’s been a long time since I felt something like that.”
His tone sounded impressed, though there was a faint hint of threat behind it.
Aurelia understood why.
All the human livestock within this castle had long since given up hope of survival. The emotions they radiated were only fear and despair. Those were still delicious—but human hatred was something rarer, something that could only truly be found when demons traveled into the human world.
“However,” Vulkran continued with a grin, “I’m curious. Was that just luck? Or do you actually possess something worthy of being called power?”
Aurelia did not respond. He continued walking, keeping his gaze straight ahead. He knew that answering would only escalate the situation.
But Vulkran did not give up.
“You won’t answer? Are you afraid? Hah! Or maybe you’re simply too arrogant to speak with us, your own siblings?”
Vulkran laughed, the sound echoing through the corridor.
The others laughed with him.
Yet there was something strange about their laughter.
It was not filled with cruelty or ridicule.
Instead, it was filled with excitement—as if they genuinely enjoyed the tension hanging in the air.
Aurelia glanced toward a corner of the corridor and noticed several siblings who had not followed them, standing at a distance.
They stared at him with burning expressions.
Their red eyes glowed.
Their faces were filled with hatred so intense it almost felt tangible.
Yet Aurelia knew that this was not human hatred.
As a former Holy Queen, it was still difficult for him to accept this truth—but he was beginning to understand.
That expression of hatred was more like exhilaration.
As if they were watching a thrilling performance.
They enjoyed the tension.
The anger.
The hatred he radiated.
It made them feel alive.
It gave them a reason to keep fighting.
They did not hate him as an individual.
They simply enjoyed the emotion he created.
“What a twisted world,” Aurelia thought with a quiet sigh.
“For humans this would be hostility. But for them, this is communication.”
Another sibling stepped closer.
A woman named Zelrith.
Her long black hair shimmered beneath the dim candlelight. Her face was beautiful, but twisted with a cruel grin.
“Kaelthar, I must compliment you,” she said sharply. “I’ve never seen hatred like that before. It felt like being struck directly in the chest, you know?”
Aurelia glanced at her coldly but did not answer.
“But…” Zelrith continued, her voice lowering dangerously, “I’m curious. Can you do it again? Or was that just an accident?”
The others laughed.
But their laughter could not hide their burning anticipation.
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They were waiting for something.
They had not followed Aurelia to torment him.
They had followed him to push him.
To see whether he could truly reproduce the pure hatred he had unleashed in the arena.
Aurelia suddenly stopped walking.
The movement silenced them instantly.
He slowly turned around, looking at his siblings now standing behind him with eager expressions.
“What do you want from me?” he asked, his voice low but heavy with pressure.
“I don’t have time for games.”
Vulkran stepped forward with a grin.
“Oh, this isn’t a game, Kaelthar. We just want to know. We want to know whether that hatred was real. We want to feel it again.”
Zelrith laughed softly.
“Exactly. You don’t understand how valuable hatred like that is. It feels like a fire burning in your chest… something impossible to ignore. You can’t just show us something like that and walk away.”
Aurelia studied them one by one, trying to understand their intent.
Eventually he realized something.
This was not about him.
They were not following Kaelthar because they respected him.
Nor because they hated him.
They followed because they wanted to be part of that hatred.
They wanted to feel it.
Use it.
Or perhaps defeat it.
“You’re all strange,” Aurelia muttered unconsciously.
Vulkran burst into laughter.
“Of course we are strange, Kaelthar. We’re demons! What did you expect?”
Aurelia turned away and resumed walking toward his room.
He had no intention of continuing this conversation.
Yet his siblings kept following, speaking loudly.
Some voices sounded like threats.
Others sounded like challenges.
“You know, Kaelthar,” Zelrith said as she approached again, “if you’re truly strong, you wouldn’t mind showing us a little of that hatred, would you?”
“Or maybe you’re afraid,” Vulkran added with a wide grin. “Afraid we’ll defeat you?”
Aurelia stopped again and looked at them coldly.
“I’m not afraid of you,” he said sharply. “But I have no time for your foolish games. If you want to prove something, do it in the arena—not here.”
His siblings laughed again.
But they did not attack.
Instead they smiled viciously, seemingly satisfied with his answer.
“You’re interesting, Kaelthar,” Zelrith said, her voice slightly softer now. “Maybe there’s something inside you beyond ordinary hatred. I wonder… how far you can go.”
Aurelia did not respond.
He turned away and continued walking until he reached the door to his chamber.
Without looking back, he opened it and stepped inside, slamming it shut behind him.
Yet even inside the room he could still hear the laughter and voices of his siblings in the hallway.
They had not left.
They were waiting.
Perhaps hoping that one day he would emerge again and display that power.
Aurelia exhaled slowly, feeling a deep exhaustion—not only physical, but emotional.
This world, filled with hatred and passion, was slowly pulling him deeper.
But he would not allow himself to drown in it.
“If they want hatred,” he thought, “then I will give it to them.”
“But I will do it my way.”
He looked toward the window.
His eyes glowed with a sharp crimson light.
This world may have shaped demons into what they were.
But he would not allow it to shape him completely.
Aurelia—though living as Kaelthar—remained determined to preserve the core of who he truly was.
Even if that meant standing against everything in this world.
The wooden floor of the living room felt warm beneath Kaelthar’s small feet.
He stood.
Truly stood.
For several seconds he simply froze, his tiny body trembling slightly as he struggled to maintain balance.
Both arms lifted to the sides, fingers spread as if trying to grasp the air.
But he did not fall.
He remained standing.
A simple sense of satisfaction appeared in his mind.
Success.
For the past several weeks, every day either his father or mother would hold his hands.
They would slowly pull him upright until he stood, then guide his feet forward.
A small step.
Another step.
He had always watched very carefully.
The human body possessed a strange ability—the ability to stand upright on two fragile legs.
Something he had never possessed in his former demon body.
He had realized that long ago.
Since then, whenever no one was watching, he sometimes tried standing by himself.
Usually he failed.
The small body was too heavy.
His legs were too weak.
He would fall before he could fully straighten.
But today was different.
Today he succeeded.
Kaelthar looked down at his tiny feet.
He moved one toe slightly.
Then another.
His body swayed a little—but he remained standing.
That sense of satisfaction returned.
He liked that feeling.
He lifted his head.
Across the room, Seraphina sat near the window. The evening light rested softly on her golden hair as she focused on knitting something with soft blue yarn.
Her knitting needles moved in a slow rhythm.
She did not look toward Kaelthar.
Kaelthar blinked.
He was standing.
Something that for weeks had always made them extremely happy.
Yet now—
no one saw.
He tilted his head slightly.
Strange.
Usually when he stood, his mother would smile widely.
Sometimes his father even laughed loudly.
But now his mother was still looking at her knitting.
Kaelthar did not think much about it.
If someone did not notice something interesting—
then he simply had to draw their attention.
He opened his small mouth.
“Ba…”
The sound was soft.
Seraphina did not turn.
The knitting needles continued moving.
Kaelthar frowned slightly.
He tried again.
“Ba! Da!”
This time his voice was louder.
The knitting needles stopped.
Seraphina lifted her head.
“Aurelia?”
Her eyes widened instantly.
“Aurelia!”
The knitting fell from her hands.
She stood up quickly.
“You’re standing by yourself?!”
Her voice filled the room with excitement.
Kaelthar felt something warm appear in his chest.
He liked that tone.
Seraphina hurried over.
“Sweetheart… you’re standing on your own!”
She knelt in front of him, her face shining with happiness.
Kaelthar smiled slightly.
His body swayed.
He moved one foot forward.
A small step.
Seraphina covered her mouth.
“Oh… oh… try again!”
Kaelthar babbled.
“Ba!”
He stepped again.
A second step.
Seraphina laughed with joy.
“He’s walking!”
Heavy footsteps sounded from the corridor.
Alaric appeared at the doorway.
“What—”
He stopped when he saw Kaelthar.
His eyes widened.
“Aurelia is walking?”
Kaelthar stood in the center of the room while both his parents stared at him with full attention.
He felt a very pleasant sensation.
Their attention was entirely focused on him.
He stepped again.
This time more confidently.
A small step.
Seraphina laughed happily.
Alaric smiled broadly.
Kaelthar babbled again.
“Da!”
He did not know why he was doing it.
But every time he made a sound—
they smiled.
Every time he stood—
they were happy.
Every time he stepped—
their joy grew even greater.
Kaelthar did not fully understand what was happening.
But he knew one thing for certain.
He liked this.
And just as he had always done—even when he was the Demon King—
when he liked something,
he never held himself back from doing it again.
