Chapter 8: What Demon Kings Leave Behind
They didn't return to the streets after Irix vanished.
Sereth led Kairo down through a rusted stairwell into an abandoned cistern beneath the Low Cities, where water once fed thousands and now fed no one. The air was damp and still, heavy with old echoes.
She sealed the entrance behind them.
Only then did she sit.
Kairo watched her carefully. Since the alley, she'd been quieter—tighter, like something long buried had been disturbed.
"You knew him," Kairo said finally. "Didn't you?"
Sereth didn't answer at first. She traced a finger along her staff, stopping at a crack near its base.
"Yes," she said. "Before he was broken."
The seal in Kairo's chest shifted, uneasy.
"You said you hunted echoes," he continued. "Power. Old things."
Her mouth curved into something bitter. "That's the lie I tell myself."
She looked up at him.
"I hunt what Demon Kings leave behind."
Silence pressed in.
Sereth rose and walked to the far wall. With a gesture, runes flared—and the stone surface rippled like water. Images formed.
A city.
Tall spires. Bright banners. People in the streets, alive with noise and warmth.
"This was Aurelion," Sereth said. "My home."
Kairo felt his breath catch. The place felt real—too real.
The image shifted.
Darkness rolled in like a tide. Shadows stretched unnaturally. The sky burned red.
A figure stood above the city, cloaked in flame and night. Not Raizen—but close enough that the seal reacted violently.
"He wasn't cruel," Sereth said quietly. "That's what made it worse."
The figure raised a hand.
The city didn't explode.
It kneeled.
People dropped where they stood, bodies folding under a weight they couldn't fight. Buildings cracked under pressure meant for souls, not stone.
Kairo staggered back. "He didn't even touch them."
"No," Sereth replied. "He ruled them."
The image shifted again.
Aftermath.
The city still stood—but it was hollow. People moved slowly, eyes dull, voices quiet. Alive, but emptied of something essential.
"That's what Demon Kings do," Sereth said. "They don't always destroy. Sometimes they overwrite."
Her voice trembled—not with fear, but fury.
"My parents survived," she continued. "They lived another thirty years. They never laughed again."
The image shattered.
The cistern was dark once more.
Kairo couldn't speak. The seal burned—not eager, not proud.
Ashamed.
"You think Raizen was different," Sereth said, turning to face him. "And maybe he was. In the end."
She stepped closer.
"But every Demon King starts by telling themselves they'll use the power carefully. Kindly. Just enough."
Her eyes locked onto his.
"Power that bends the world cannot love it."
The words hit harder than any training blow.
Kairo clenched his fists. "Then why help me?" he asked. "Why not kill me before I become that?"
Sereth didn't hesitate.
"Because you sealed it yourself," she said. "Because you chose pain over command. Because when the power offered you the world…"
She placed a hand over his chest, over the seal.
"…you said no."
The seal pulsed weakly.
Not in anger.
In mourning.
Sereth stepped back. "That doesn't mean you're safe," she said. "Or forgiven by the world."
"I don't need forgiveness," Kairo replied quietly. "I just don't want to leave something like that behind."
For the first time, Sereth smiled—not sharply, not bitterly, but real.
"Then you'll suffer," she said. "A lot."
Somewhere far above them, unseen gears turned.
Plans adjusted.
Because a vessel that refused was far more dangerous than one who obeyed.
And the world had no idea what to do with a boy who carried a Demon King—and chose not to become one.