Thick and pervasive dark power conjured the night.
It was a night where the sun would never rise and where not even stars existed, a night unyielding to the glow of a fire. Iris sat within the abyss of darkness she had forged herself.
"They’re coming," she commented.
Her crimson lips curved into a smirk, and her chin lifted in anticipation as she giggled in the enveloping darkness. She did not see them yet. While she could have seen if she wished to, Iris chose not to.
She could feel them without seeing, and it gave her a bigger thrill to feel them like this rather than seeing them with her own eyes. A tremble of anticipation and delight shook her frame.
They were approaching, steadily and unnaturally fast, as if endowed with wings in this windless sea.
An irritating discomfort hinted at the presence of divine power. It was only natural, given that they were the Saint and the Hero.
‘Let's go greet them tomorrow,’ Iris thought.
That didn’t mean she wasn’t unprepared. Raising her head, Iris peered forward.
In the profound darkness, a different kind of darkness existed, one molded and nurtured by Iris herself.
It was a cradle and shelter harboring her kin, the Rebels of Fury, an organization she had fostered for three hundred years. They were loyal subjects who never abandoned her, even during the tyranny and contempt from the demons of Helmuth. They were followers who revered her as a princess and dreamt of Fury’s resurgence by her side.
But not all had remained true.
Among the hundred dark elves that comprised the Rebels of Fury, only about thirty had experienced the era of war with Iris. The rest were those corrupted after the war ended — elves dying of plague, sold into slavery, or forcibly kidnapped and brought to damnation. Yet, once they transformed into dark elves, loyalty to Iris became inevitable.
Wasn't that enough? To Iris, the Rebels of Fury were her family , precisely the one hundred and three dark elves.
The utmost desire Iris harbored was to resurrect her deceased father — an unfulfilled wish, for bringing her father back to life proved impossible. Yet, Iris had ascended as the Demon King herself. She had not given herself a new name but rather succeeded her father's legacy, perpetuating her heritage as the Demon King of Fury.
At this moment, Fury had reincarnated.
She respected and adored her father, who had shown kindness to his children and had bestowed great power upon her, a mere dark elf.
Those belonging to the Rebels of Fury were a family that had endured hardships and shared joys with her for three centuries.
And so, she imparted strength upon them, just as she had received from her father. She granted power to her dark elf kin. It wouldn't be long before they would awaken from their cradle. As for the other subordinates — the pirates, she held no affection or interest for them. Yet, considering they were too feeble as humans to be a part of Fury’s Army, she bestowed upon them power in a manner not too burdensome.
Due to the reckless infusion of dark power, their personalities had collapsed, and their race altered... but that was not for Iris to concern herself with.
"Shall we start from here?" Iris mumbled while leaning in her chair. The languid darkness embraced her bare form. A titter escaped her lips as she slowly buttoned up her newly worn shirt. "Or will you grant me territory?"
Her eyes, red as blood, slowly rose upwards. Darkness surged forward. What was pushed back was darkness belonging to Iris, her dark power. The two curtains of black weren’t identical. The impending abyss bore a deeper hue, a stronger force.
Iris keenly felt the truth and clenched her fists. The creeping sensation was invoking an unavoidable, guarding fear.
Could one feel fear even after becoming the Demon King?
‘No,’ Iris told herself with resolve.
It was precisely because she had become the Demon King that she could sense this fear. Iris could perceive the absurdity of the entity steering the encroaching darkness and dark power. Humans or demons alike wouldn't be able to grasp the true nature of that being. However, being the Demon King, she was more attuned to that 'terror.'
They were not the same.
Though both were called Demon Kings, they were decidedly not equals. A disparity existed, magnified by the fact that Iris inherited memories from her father — the previous Demon King of Fury. It enhanced her certainty of the fear she felt towards that entity.
A grinding noise echoed — the clashing and pulling of iron chains. Amidst the sound of chains, a pair of eyes emerged, ominously foreboding, worn out, and grim.
He was an existence not guilty yet shackled as a sinner, a Demon King revered by others of his kind, an existence even the other Demon Kings feared. He reigned supreme among the Demon Kings. He was dubbed the Great Demon King, the one who imprisoned the abyss in the deep sea.
"Congratulations," His voice sounded.
Iris' dark power couldn't infringe upon the dark power of Incarceration. Though this was Iris' domain, the moment the Demon King of Incarceration appeared, the ownership of the realm changed. Yet, Iris couldn't even harbor discomfort at this fact.
"I want to convey my condolences," the Demon King of Incarceration said.
He bore the same visage as when Iris last saw him. There was not a hint of light in his dull and red eyes. His complexion was completely devoid of vitality, and his black hair reached his waist. His body was so skinny it seemed almost tragic, and he was draped in countless chains. He was unchanged, identical to when she had last seen him in Helmuth, even three hundred years ago. Even in her inherited memories — he was a figure perpetually the same, standing above the fog and waves at the end of times in the previous era.
~
— At some point, my child will come to this sea.
~
When her father had said that, the Demon King of Incarceration had nodded indifferently. Back then, no emotions had adorned his face.
It was still the same now. Despite congratulating her, there was no joy, and in conveying condolences, no sorrow was visible on the face of the Demon King of Incarceration.
"Consolation?" Iris twisted her lips in a derisive smile as she spoke with rebellion brimming in her voice. "Why should I receive consolation?"
"You must have realized it by now," the voice of the Demon King of Incarceration was calm, starkly contrasting with Iris' sharp tone.
With a rustling sound, the chains that dragged behind him like a cloak intertwined and transformed into a chair. The Demon King of Incarceration comfortably sat down and rested his arms on the armrests.
He showcased an air of assurance as he spoke, "You must know what lies at the bottom of this sea, how this sea was created, and what transpired here. Well, the current you should know that is.”
He continued, his voice exuding confidence yet detached, "I made sure that’s how things would be. But if you remain ignorant... well, that's… a serious issue. I loathe issues I did not intend even more."
The dark, penetrating gaze fixed on Iris as if scrutinizing and unraveling every part of her. Swallowing hard, she clenched her fists, her body soon engulfed by surging dark power.
"I know, Demon King of Incarceration. My father... he died in this sea. Took his own life to transfer it to you."
"Death, you say…," he mused, acknowledging her perception. "Not entirely incorrect. The Demon King of Fury…. Your father, indeed, died here long ago, and I accepted it."
Iris bit her lip, her mind swirling with unresolved questions, haunted by what she witnessed in the abyss in the deep sea: the closed gate, the fog and the waves engulfing the world, her father choosing death, and the handover of his life to the Demon King of Incarceration.
So what about three hundred years ago? The father Iris remembered ruled as the Demon King of Fury since three hundred years ago, no, even before that….
The Demon King of Incarceration tilted his head slightly, his expression neutral yet not rigid. "You must have many questions. I understand, Iris. I let it flow to you according to the promise. However, that is a distant memory. It may not fully connect with the memories you hold now. There will be gaps."
Iris hesitated before stammering, "Will you... answer if I ask?"
Her mind raced with questions. Who was the Demon King of Incarceration, really? What had she seen in the abyss? Why had her father, who had died in this sea, been alive in Helmuth?
"No," came the swift and unyielding reply. "I am not obligated to answer your questions. That wasn't part of the pact with the Fury. You do not possess the right to hear the truth from me."
Iris ground her teeth, her eyes boiling with dark power. It resonated with her anger and turned increasingly darker.
"How fierce.” The Demon King of Incarceration's tone remained unfazed by her hostility or murderous intent, his gaze steady and peaceful as he spoke. "Do you wish to hear answers from me? You won't be able to force them out of me, though."
"Do you take me… for a fool?" Iris shot back defiantly.
He replied dismissively, emphasizing her weakness that she, too, was aware of. "I have no choice but to regard you as such. Aren't you aware of your frailty?"
With a creaking sound, the chains connected to the Demon King of Incarceration began to move. Like serpents, they slithered and spread across the floor, and with their movement, Iris felt her dark power being pushed back, a stark reminder of the chasm in their power.
"But no matter how frail you are, I respect you, Demon King of Fury," whispered the Demon King of Incarceration.
The malevolent and ominous Demon King had called Iris by that name. It sent shivers down Iris' spine. She trembled slightly and swallowed hard.
"Do you... recognize me as the Demon King of Fury?" she asked with anticipation.
"Iris. For you to continue that legacy has been the will of the last Fury. I bestowed upon you the legacy of Fury according to our agreement. I see no reason not to acknowledge you as the Demon King of Fury,” the Demon King of Incarceration said, glancing at the floor with a slight smile. The spreading chains suddenly halted their movement.
"I will not grant you a territory," Incarceration stated.
The chains retracted.
"A territory is a land conquered by the Demon Kings themselves. Demon King of Fury, if you desire to have a territory in Helmuth, you must seize it from me. Will you do that?" the Demon King of Incarceration asked lightly.
Iris could not answer. Fight against that absurd monster of a Demon King and seize her own territory? It was impossible for the Iris of now.
"Seems like you won't," the Demon King of Incarceration commented.
He did not feel the slightest disappointment at Iris' silence.
"Then, you have no choice but to start from here," Incarceration said softly in the same neutral tone.
Iris' eyes widened at the murmured words.
"Are you... giving me advice?" Iris stuttered, finding it hard to believe what she had just heard.
The Demon King of Incarceration nodded slightly, then said, "This place... has a deep history. Many events unfolded, and everything is buried in this sea. I vividly remember what the landscape was like before it became a sea."
Iris knew it. She was well aware that this sea was once the territory of the Demon King of Fury. Her father had ruled this land, and Iris and her siblings had grown up loved by him….
"Demon King of Fury, if you rise from this land... it can genuinely be said that you have inherited the legacy of Fury. Your father, the former Demon King of Fury, was defeated here, fled, and died," the Demon King of Incarceration said.
Iris had nothing to say to this as she knew the words were true.
"History often repeats itself," the Demon King of Incarceration stated in a simple manner. He looked back on the years past, and on the events that were still far away in the future but were gradually approaching with a certainty.
He continued, "Will you be defeated, flee, or die? Let me make one thing clear, Demon King of Fury. I will not be by your side when you die. There will be no pact between us. You might be defeated, flee, and die like your father, but you will not leave a legacy behind."
"I’m different," Iris said. She chuckled bitterly, then spat, "I will be defeated, flee, and die? There's no way. Are you serious, Demon King of Incarceration? Oh, I see. You want to test me?"
Iris' laughter grew louder. She sincerely laughed at the Demon King of Incarceration's words.
"There's no Hamel to rage like a lunatic, no Molon to charge in like an idiot. So what if Sienna, Sienna Merdein is here? What difference does it make? The Hero who comes here now isn’t Vermouth. The current Saint isn’t Anise!" Iris said mockingly as if reminding Incarceration about the situation at hand.
The Demon King of Incarceration slowly rose while listening to Iris' laughter.
Iris continued, "Demon King of Incarceration, I heard you would wait for the Hero at Babel. Ahaha... Ahahaha! You won't be able to welcome the Hero at Babel. I, the Demon King of Fury, will kill that bastard in this sea!"
Iris shook her head while laughing wildly. With a clatter... the chains that formed the chair dispersed.
"In this sea! At my father's first burial ground! I will offer the Hero and the Saint as sacrifices! I will destroy Sienna Merdein, the wretch who contributed to my father’s death until she begs pitifully for death. I vow to all who dare to charge at me, the Demon King of Fury, that I will cast them all into the sea! By doing so, everyone in the world will know of Fury’s return! Without me having to declare it, everyone will know this sea as the domain of Fury and fear it!”
"If," The Demon King of Incarceration said, “If you kill Eugene Lionheart."
The Demon King of Incarceration knew the name of the Hero.
"Kristina Rogeris."
He knew the name of the Saint.
"Sienna Merdein."
He knew the name of the wizard he defeated three hundred years ago.
"If you kill those three and bury them in the sea," he said.
The lips of the Demon King of Incarceration moved.
For the first time since arriving here, he revealed emotion on his face. It was a wide curve stretching into a grin. While smiling, the Demon King of Incarceration whispered to Iris.
There were emotions carried in his voice, which had previously been devoid of any feelings. He was beckoning her seductively and encouraging her.
"I'll answer your question," the Demon King of Incarceration promised.
A fire ignited in Iris' pupils. Without waiting for a response, the Demon King of Incarceration turned away, leaving behind a snickering laughter.
Then, the smile vanished from the face of the Demon King of Incarceration.
Fate often repeated itself.
The Demon King of Incarceration knew this all too well.