The citadel was quiet that night — unnaturally quiet.
The kind of stillness that hung heavy in the halls after the mana storms had faded, when even the torches burned slower.
In his chamber, Asura sat cross-legged atop the wide bed, a stack of books piled beside him like a wall of stolen treasure. The faint light of a hovering mana lamp painted everything in soft gold.
He glanced toward the door, listening for footsteps. Nothing.
Good.
"Alright," he murmured, cracking open the first cover. "Operation 'Totally-Not-Book-Theft' begins."
The books had weight, older than most demons. Dust clung to their spines; the scent of old ink and mana filled the air. He flipped through the first few pages until one title caught his attention in elegant silver script:
Elys Noctis — The Land of Twilight and Its Eight Kingdoms
Asura leaned closer, pupils brightening. "Eight kingdoms?"
He turned the page carefully. The parchment glowed faintly under his touch, runes swirling into the shape of a living map — continents of shadow and light forming against the page.
The Demon Realm, known among the ancients as Elys Noctis, the Land of Twilight, is a realm of balance — where beauty, magic, and danger intertwine.
The text seemed to breathe. The illustrations shimmered like moving glass: crimson forests under silver moons, volcanic ridges crowned with black castles, floating mountains wreathed in storm-light.
Asura's lips parted slightly.
He had seen the Demon King's castle, the outer forests, and the endless black plains that surrounded them — and assumed that was all there was.
But this…
Elys Noctis is divided into eight great kingdoms, each forged from the remnants of the Divine War and bound by ancient bloodlines.
Eight kingdoms. Eight rulers. One realm.
He exhaled softly, flipping the next page — and the names appeared, etched in glowing crimson script:
Zerathos — The Demon Kingdom, Central Power.Drakorth — The Dragon Kingdom of the North.Noctris — The Vampire Kingdom of the West.Umbrathis — The Dark Elf Kingdom of the Northwest.Sylvorra — The Beast Kingdom of the East.Brakkar — The Ogre Kingdom of the Southwest.Gorrak — The Orc Kingdom of the South.Groblinheim — The Hobgoblin Kingdom of the Southeast.
He stared at the list, reading each name twice as if testing their sound.
"Zerathos… so that's what Grandpa's kingdom is called."
A quiet laugh slipped out of him, half disbelief, half wonder. "All this time, I thought the Demon Realm was just one big castle with fancy trees."
He traced a finger across the glowing map, the lines of mana pulsing gently beneath his touch. Every kingdom glowed in a different hue — scarlet for Zerathos, storm-blue for Drakorth, violet for Noctris.
"So the Demon Realm's… alive," he whispered. "Bigger than the Human Realm even, maybe."
He leaned closer, devouring the paragraphs that followed — each description unfolding like a story: the sky islands of Drakorth, the eternal night rivers of Noctris, the shimmering forests of Umbrathis, and the roaring arenas of Gorrak.
Every line was a revelation.
Every name was a doorway.
By the time he reached the end of the chapter, his heart was racing.
"I can't believe I didn't know any of this," he muttered. "Eight kingdoms, each one different — dragons, vampires, elves, beasts…"
His voice softened into a grin. "And I'm stuck here."
He closed the book slowly, the glow fading back into still ink. For a moment, he just stared at the cover, lost between awe and frustration.
"I have to see them," he whispered. "All of them."
The mana lamp flickered in agreement, as if the room itself approved of the idea.
He smiled faintly, leaning back against the headboard, the open book resting on his lap.
For the first time, he didn't feel trapped in the Demon King's castle.
For the first time, the world outside felt real — waiting.
And for a boy born of twilight and chaos, that realization was almost divine.
✦ The Academy of Fangs
Asura flipped the cover of the next book with practiced care.
Its title shimmered faintly in elegant black runes, engraved deep into an onyx leather binding:
"The Obsidian Fang Academy — Forge of the Realms."
He ran his fingers along the letters, watching as faint streams of mana drifted from them like embers.
"Sounds intense already," he muttered.
The pages inside were smooth, almost unnaturally so — enchanted parchment that hummed with residual power. A faint scent of smoke and iron rose as he turned the first page.
The Obsidian Fang Academy, founded under the decree of the Demon King of Zerathos years ago, stands as the cornerstone of civilization in Elys Noctis — an academy where strength, intellect, and bloodline converge.
Asura's golden eyes widened slightly.
"An academy… made by Grandpa?"
He leaned closer. The image on the page unfurled into an illusionary projection — a sprawling fortress of black stone and shimmering crimson crystal towers that pierced the clouds. Floating mana rings orbited the structure like slow-turning halos, and vast banners fluttered with demonic crests.
The Academy was created to temper the chaos of Elys Noctis — to turn raw monsters into warriors, and wild power into legacy.
Asura grinned. "So that's why there aren't demons fighting in the streets anymore."
The next few paragraphs read like a mix between a history lesson and a recruitment speech:
Located on the borderlands of Zerathos, between the crystal plains and the twilight forests, the Academy stands as neutral ground — a meeting place for nobles and prodigies from all eight kingdoms.
It is said that to graduate from the Academy is to earn one's place among the future rulers of the Demon Realm.
The page shifted again, revealing portraits of students — or rather, moving sketches. Dragons in humanoid form wielding blazing weapons, vampires in shadowed duels, dark elves weaving spell circles mid-air.
He could almost hear their laughter, their sparring, the clashing of blades.
The life they lived — free, wild, disciplined, but alive.
"An academy for every race…" he murmured. "Even dragons and vampires."
He scanned further, eyes widening again when he found the student hierarchy:
High Nobles, Nobles, Elites, Commoners, Hybrids, Outcasts.
At the bottom of the page, a single note written in older script caught his eye:
Equality is preached, but hierarchy is absolute.
Asura frowned slightly. "So even in a place built to unite the realm… everyone's still separated."
The next section described the subjects — Weapon Mastery, Elemental Combat, Blood Magic, Mana Theory, Dungeon Exploration, Diplomatic Etiquette.
He couldn't help but chuckle softly. "They even teach manners? Definitely not for me."
Still, the more he read, the more his excitement grew.
There were dueling tournaments.
Mana tower challenges.
And even something called the Shadow Gate — a restricted training zone only the strongest students could enter.
By the time he reached the end, Asura's expression had softened into a quiet mix of envy and wonder.
"Students from all over the Demon Realm," he whispered. "Learning magic, fighting, growing stronger together… while I'm just sitting here."
He rested his chin on his palm, eyes drifting toward the window. The silver moonlight shimmered through, catching the faint gold in his irises.
"I'd fit right in," he said with a grin.
A faint voice echoed in the back of his mind — his grandfather's words from days ago:
He stays within the citadel until further notice.
Asura sighed dramatically. "Well, there goes my admission letter."
He closed the book gently, setting it atop the pile beside him.
The faint mana within its pages pulsed once, as though acknowledging its new reader.
He looked around his dimly lit room — the silence pressing, the castle vast but suddenly too small.
"Someday," he murmured, eyes gleaming faintly. "I'll see it myself."
And for the first time since his Awakening, Asura didn't feel just like a prince.
He felt like a student — standing at the threshold of something greater.
The mana lamp dimmed, casting his shadow against the wall.
In the quiet, it almost looked like the silhouette of wings unfurling.
✦ The Forbidden Curiosity
Morning returned to Zerathos in a wash of deep crimson and silver.
The citadel's obsidian towers glimmered in the sunrise, their runes pulsing faintly with mana like veins under living skin.
In one of the upper chambers, Asura stretched, yawning wide enough to make his jaw pop. The stack of books beside his bed still glowed faintly — their enchantments fading after a long night of devouring pages.
His eyes were tired, but his grin was sharper than ever.
"Okay," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "So… there are eight kingdoms, a monster academy, and a thing called Magi that can rewrite reality."
He exhaled in disbelief, then smiled wider.
"Yeah. Definitely not staying in bed today."
He hopped off the mattress, quickly slipping on his custom outfit and geta sandals. The faint seal at his collarbone — the one placed by his grandfather to track his movements — flickered softly as he tightened his golden sash.
He ignored it.
"Just a walk," he whispered. "Totally harmless."
The moment the door clicked shut behind him, the faint shimmer of shadow shifted in the corner of his room — a wisp of dark mana peeling off the wall. It lingered for a moment, then vanished into smoke.
Asura made his way through the citadel's corridors with a casual pace that was only half pretending. The morning servants bowed as he passed; guards looked up, confused but unwilling to question the Demon King's grandson.
He smiled at them all, his golden eyes glinting like sunlight through amber.
The kind of smile that said: I'm absolutely up to something.
By the time he reached the lower halls, the air had grown cooler — the faint hum of mana growing stronger near the Grand Library. He remembered the students from yesterday. The ones who'd told him about Magi, forbidden knowledge, and the academy that tied the Demon Realm together.
He wanted more.
He needed more.
The double doors loomed ahead, carved with thousands of runes that glowed like dying stars. Asura pushed them open quietly.
The Grand Library was less crowded this time, its halls bathed in soft golden light from the hanging mana lamps. The scent of parchment and incense filled the air — oddly calming, but not enough to settle the curiosity burning in his chest.
His eyes darted through the rows until he spotted a few familiar uniforms seated at a table deeper in the wing.
Perfect.
He approached quietly, geta sandals making barely a sound on the marble.
The same gray-horned girl from before was there, along with two of her friends — the red-skinned boy and the dark-haired one. They were surrounded by scrolls and grimoires, talking in low voices.
Asura waited until the last possible second before pulling out a chair and sitting down across from them like he belonged there.
"Morning," he said brightly.
Three heads turned.
The red-skinned boy groaned. "You again?"
"Miss me?" Asura grinned.
The gray-horned girl narrowed her eyes. "How did you even get in here? Students aren't allowed before first bell."
"Lucky, I guess," he said with a shrug.
She exhaled sharply. "If you're here to ask about forbidden books again—"
"No, no," he interrupted. "This time I'm curious about something else. You said something yesterday — about Magi."
The dark-haired boy frowned. "And you didn't just look it up?"
"I did," Asura said, crossing his arms. "But the books here don't explain how someone becomes one. Just that Magi exist. What makes them different from mages?"
The girl hesitated, glancing between her friends. Then she leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice.
"You really want to know?"
Asura nodded.
"Magi aren't just mages who got stronger," she said. "They're those who've fused their aura with their mana — who've turned their soul into a core of power. Most people spend lifetimes trying and fail."
The red-skinned boy added, "They're rare because the process can kill you. The body can't handle the soul's raw form. It's… like forcing creation into flesh."
Asura listened, eyes wide with fascination. "So it's not a spell. It's evolution."
The girl gave a faint, wary smile. "Something like that. Only a handful have ever done it — most of them become Arch-Mage or Grand Mage. The rest…" She trailed off.
"Explode?" Asura guessed helpfully.
She gave him a flat look. "Worse. They lose themselves."
He blinked. "Oh. Yeah, that's… slightly worse."
The boy with the black horns leaned in. "Why are you so interested anyway? You planning to become one?"
Asura smiled faintly. "Maybe."
"Kid, you'd need decades of training," the red-skinned boy scoffed. "Years at the Academy just to learn the basics. You can't just decide to become a Magi."
"I know," Asura said, though his tone betrayed a mischievous edge. "But deciding's a good start, right?"
The girl sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You're hopeless."
"Ambitious," he corrected.
She gave him a look somewhere between irritation and reluctant respect. "Ambitious gets you killed around here."
"Then I guess I'll just have to be really hard to kill."
Across the room, unseen by any of them, a faint shimmer rippled through the air.
A cloaked figure leaned against a shadowed pillar, their form barely visible — a demon with eyes like burning gold hidden behind a mask.
The watcher whispered softly into the air, their voice echoing through unseen channels.
"Target located. Prince Asura has entered the library unsupervised again. Shall I intervene?"
A cold, regal voice answered from the darkness beyond — smooth, commanding, and ancient.
"No. Let him wander. Curiosity is the spark of kingship… but it also exposes weakness. Observe."
The figure bowed. "As you command, my lord."
The shadow dissolved, leaving nothing but the flicker of candlelight.
Unaware, Asura leaned forward, elbows on the table, eyes gleaming.
"Alright," he said, voice low with excitement. "Tell me more about this Academy of yours."
The girl sighed again, defeated. "You really don't listen, do you?"
He grinned. "Not when I'm having fun."
✦ The Realm of Eight
The gray-horned girl looked like she regretted ever making eye contact.
She rubbed her temple and muttered, "Fine. You really don't give up, do you?"
Asura grinned. "Never have, never will."
The other two students exchanged glances. The red-skinned boy finally shrugged. "Might as well tell him something before he burns the library down trying to find out himself."
"Hey," Asura said, mock-offended, "that was one time."
"You set an index rune on fire."
"It was glowing suspiciously!"
The girl exhaled deeply through her nose, like she'd already aged ten years in this conversation. "Alright, listen. The Obsidian Fang Academy isn't just a school — it's the foundation that keeps the Demon Realm from tearing itself apart."
That caught Asura's attention instantly. His golden eyes sharpened.
"What do you mean?"
"The eight kingdoms don't exactly… get along," she said. "They've been rivals for centuries — Dragons, Vampires, Ogres, even our own Demon Kingdom. The Academy's the one place where they can meet without bloodshed. Or at least, less bloodshed."
The black-horned boy added with a grin, "Basically, if you survive four years there, you're either a genius, a noble, or really good at dodging explosions."
Asura leaned forward, completely engrossed now. "So everyone from all eight kingdoms goes there?"
"Not everyone," the girl corrected. "Only those with lineage, talent, or exceptional mana or aura control. The Academy doesn't waste time on the weak."
He rested his chin on his hand, a small, thoughtful smile forming. "Eight kingdoms…"
He murmured the names to himself again, the ones he'd memorized from the book last night — Zerathos, Drakorth, Noctris, Umbrathis, Sylvorra, Brakkar, Gorrak, Groblinheim.
The words rolled off his tongue like a spell.
"So if I went there," he said slowly, "I'd meet dragons… vampires… beastkin… elves…"
His voice softened, his grin widening in childlike wonder. "An entire realm of magic, all in one place."
The red-skinned boy raised a brow. "You want to go to Fang? You're crazy. It's basically four years of trying not to die while nobles play war games."
"Sounds fun," Asura said immediately.
The gray-horned girl gave him a flat look. "You think everything sounds fun."
"Not true," he said with mock seriousness. "Math doesn't."
"...You're impossible."
He leaned back in his chair, still grinning. "So what about Magi? You said they teach magic, right? Do Magi study there too?"
"They don't study," she said. "They teach. The Academy hires actual Magi as instructors — Arch-Mage, sometimes even Grand Mage. They're the ones who survived merging with their mana or aura."
Asura's smile faded into quiet awe. "Real Magi…"
He imagined it — classrooms under glowing runes, spell circles etched into air, dragons weaving flame and shadow under divine instruction.
The idea lit a spark deep in his chest that refused to go out.
"I need to see it," he whispered.
The gray-horned girl blinked. "What?"
He looked at her, eyes gleaming like twin suns. "The academy. The kingdoms. All of it. If this world's really that big, then staying here would be the same as dying."
For a brief second, none of them spoke.
Even the red-skinned boy — who'd been smirking all conversation — looked uneasy.
"Kid…" he started, but hesitated. "You don't just walk into another kingdom. Even nobles need permission from the Demon King to cross borders."
Asura smiled faintly. "Good thing I know someone with authority."
The three students stared at him.
He realized a little too late that he might've said that too confidently.
The gray-horned girl narrowed her eyes. "And just who exactly do you think you are?"
Asura blinked innocently. "...An aspiring student?"
They weren't convinced.
The red-skinned boy folded his arms. "You're weird, kid."
"I've been told that," Asura said, smiling again. "Frequently."
Far above, on the upper balcony of the Grand Library, two shadows stood behind the veil of mana glass.
One was tall and cloaked in smoke, eyes glowing faint crimson.
The other shorter — draped in a mantle of lightless black.
"Your grandson is bold," murmured the cloaked one. "He speaks of Magi, the Academy, and even the Eight Kingdoms with the curiosity of a godling."
The Demon King did not answer immediately. His gaze remained fixed below, where Asura laughed lightly among the students — oblivious to the weight of the world watching him.
Finally, the King spoke, voice low and measured.
"Curiosity is not weakness," he said. "It is hunger."
He turned slightly, the faint glint of his crimson eye cutting through the gloom.
"And hunger," he murmured, "is the first sign of a ruler."
✦ The Name He Spoke Casually
The mana lamps of the Grand Library burned low, their golden light scattering across shelves carved with ancient runes. Between the towering aisles, laughter and soft chatter drifted from one corner — from the same table where Asura sat surrounded by his three new "study partners."
The gray-horned girl, Nira, tapped the edge of her book with a clawed finger, smirking.
"You know," she said, "it's funny. We never actually told you who we were."
Asura blinked. "You didn't?"
Kaen, the red-skinned boy with faint ember cracks along his arms, leaned back in his chair, grinning. "Guess we were too busy arguing about forbidden books last time."
Rov — dark-haired, quiet, and far too observant — nodded once. "Makes sense. We see you sneaking in here every other day, figured you were some noble's assistant or something."
Asura raised an eyebrow. "Assistant? Ouch."
Nira smirked. "Not an insult. You carry yourself too calm for a commoner."
"Fair," he said with a shrug. "So what's your deal then? How are you three always in here? Don't academy students have classes?"
Kaen grinned wider, his teeth faintly sharp. "Perks of rank, little guy. I'm Kaen Rorvahn, son of General Rorvahn of the Ogre-Frontier Legion."
He puffed his chest proudly. "My old man guards the borders between Brakkar and Gorrak, so the Academy keeps me on a military scholarship."
Asura nodded, intrigued. "So that's how you get to skip classes."
"Exactly."
Nira adjusted her collar, revealing a silver insignia pinned to her uniform — a crescent sigil etched with faint mana script. "Nira Umbrathis. Daughter of the High Enchantress of the Dark-Elf Kingdom. We get open library access as part of our diplomatic program with Zerathos."
Rov spoke last, his tone even quieter but somehow carrying weight. "Rov Noctris. Third scion of House Noctris — minor line of the Vampire Court. My family funds part of the library's restoration wing."
Asura blinked, then gave an impressed whistle. "Wow. Royalty, nobility, and a general's kid. No wonder you three talk like you own the place."
Kaen chuckled. "Yea but we practically do."
Nira smiled faintly, leaning forward. "And what about you, mystery boy? You've got this calm noble aura, but no crest, no house pin, and you waltz into restricted sections like you're invisible. What's your story?"
Asura tilted his head, pretending to think. "Hmm. You sure you wanna know?"
Kaen smirked. "Please. Humor us."
Rov folded his arms. "You can't possibly top a vampire, a general's son, and a royal elf."
"Alright then," Asura said easily. "I'm Prince Asura, the Prince of the Demon Kingdom of Zerathos."
The name fell like a pebble into still water — soft, but the ripples spread instantly.
Nira's smirk faltered. Kaen blinked once. Rov actually sat up straighter, his crimson eyes widening.
"…Sorry," Nira said slowly, "what?"
"Prince Asura," he repeated, smiling politely. "You know, the Grandson of the Demon King."
Silence.
The three students stared at him, searching for a trace of irony. None came.
Kaen laughed first — too loud, too nervous. "Ha! Yeah, right. And I'm the next Demon King!"
Nira forced a smile. "Cute joke."
Rov didn't laugh. His expression tightened instead, eyes flicking to the faint sigil pulsing on Asura's collarbone — a royal tracking seal that no one outside the palace should ever see.
"…That mark," Rov whispered. "That's not a joke."
Kaen turned to him. "Wait, you mean—"
Nira's eyes widened as it hit her. "No way—you're serious?"
Asura just grinned, leaning back in his chair like he'd said nothing special at all. "Yeah. But don't worry — I'm off duty. Just another bored kid sneaking into libraries unattended."
The three sat frozen, processing the impossible.
Kaen finally found his voice. "You could've led with that!"
"Why ruin the fun?" Asura teased. "Besides, people act weird when they find out. You three were acting normal around me."
"Normal?" Nira sputtered. "We argued with the Demon King's heir about banned books!"
"Relax," Asura said, laughing softly. "You're still alive. That's pretty normal to me."
Kaen groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I'm so dead if my dad finds out I was mouthing off to royalty."
Rov's voice stayed quiet but steady. "Your secret's safe with us, Prince Asura."
The title sounded strange coming from him — half reverent, half uncertain.
Asura waved a hand dismissively. "Drop the 'Prince.' It makes me sound boring."
Nira exhaled, half-laughing despite herself. "You really are insane."
"Maybe," Asura said with a grin, rising from his chair. "But at least I'm honest."
He turned toward the towering doors, the golden light of the library catching in his hair. "See you around."
As he left, the trio sat in stunned silence — the truth settling like a spell.
Kaen finally muttered, "We just hung out with him."
Nira shook her head, still staring at the doorway. "And he's nothing like what they say."
Rov's eyes lingered on the faint trail of golden mana left in Asura's wake. "No," he said softly. "He's much more."