Chapter 66: Demon King 1

Chapter 66: Demon King 1Remu’s boots echoed against the wet pavement as she stalked through the city streets, her red jacket flaring behind her like a banner of war. The neon lights painted her face in hues of crimson and violet, reflecting the storm brewing within her. Lucifer’s smirk haunted her thoughts, igniting a fire that only blood could quench.

She needed one more. Just one. Then the ritual would be complete. Then she’d summon the entity that would make Lucifer pay.

7.

Her eyes settled on a man leaning against a lamppost, engrossed in his phone. He was alone, vulnerable. Perfect.

"Excuse me," she called out, her voice laced with feigned innocence.

He looked up, startled. "Yeah?"

"My car broke down a few blocks away. Could you help me?"

He hesitated, then nodded. "Sure."

She led him to a secluded alley, the shadows swallowing them whole. As he bent to inspect the nonexistent car, she struck. A swift, precise movement. The blade found its mark.

He gasped, eyes wide with shock, then collapsed.

"Seven," the voice whispered, satisfied.



The Ritual

Remu dragged the body to an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. The air was thick with dust and decay, the perfect setting for what was to come.

She began by drawing a large circle on the floor using chalk mixed with the blood of her victims. Within the circle, she inscribed ancient runes and sigils, their meanings lost to time but potent nonetheless. She placed seven candles at equidistant points around the circle, each representing a soul taken.

In the center, she set a bowl containing a mixture of grave dirt, poppy seeds, and water. She added a drop of her own blood, watching as it swirled and darkened the concoction.

The voice guided her through the incantation, a series of guttural, ancient words that resonated deep within her. "Te invoco a profundus inferni..." The ground trembled beneath her feet, the air crackling with energy.

As she continued the chant, the candles flared, their flames dancing wildly. The sigils began to glow, pulsing with a sinister light. The bowl’s contents bubbled and hissed, releasing a foul-smelling vapor.

The warehouse suddenly felt too small. The very air shook with a low, bone-deep hum, like a distant beast growling from behind a mountain. Remu staggered back, shielding her eyes as the space within the center of the runic circle twisted unnaturally.

Reality itself... folded.

A jagged tear ripped through the air, not like glass breaking but like flesh splitting open, raw and wet. The circle pulsed with red light, each candle flaring one by one, until all seven howled with vertical flames, stretching toward the heavens like screaming souls.

Then—

Fwump.

A hand shot out.

Not a claw. Not some demonic beast’s limb.

A human hand.

Pale. Veined. Fingers long and elegant, nails clean, skin almost glowing with a subtle shimmer. But it twitched violently, like it was trying to push itself forward, trembling with effort.

Remu’s eyes widened, heart pounding in her ears. Her lips parted slightly as she stepped closer.

The hand gripped the edge of the glowing portal, and then an arm followed, the sleeve of a long black coat slipping into view. The man—or whatever he was—tried to pull himself out, muscles tensing, shoulder straining, body jerking forward like he was climbing out of water made of fire.

But he couldn’t.

No matter how hard he pulled, no matter how he twisted or forced his way, he was stuck. Like the portal was choking him.

Static sparked around the edges of the rift. Purple lightning danced across the runes, and something—some kind of energy—pushed him back each time he got halfway through.



"Tch."

The man’s fingers dug into the edge of the glowing circle, scorched lines appearing under his grip. A hiss escaped from between his clenched teeth. He didn’t scream. He didn’t grunt. But it was clear—he was fighting something enormous on the other side.

Then, for the briefest moment, his face began to emerge.

Half of it. Just the lower half. Sharp jawline. A mouth curled into the laziest, most bored frown imaginable. Like he wasn’t impressed. Like this wasn’t his first time being yanked out of whatever hellhole he was in. His voice came out calm, almost annoyed.

"This circle’s incomplete," he muttered, almost like he was commenting on a bad cup of tea. His words echoed weirdly, doubling on themselves like whispers chasing their own tails.

Remu blinked. "What?"

His other hand slammed against the inside of the circle, sending a shockwave that cracked the concrete around the runes. Candles blew out—two, three, then six in rapid succession. Only one remained, flickering like it was about to die.

"Fix the glyph at the top," he said, eyes still obscured by the ripple of the portal. "The left curve’s too shallow."

She scrambled, almost tripping over the chalk as she dropped to her knees. Sweat poured down her face. She found the glyph he meant—one of the older runes, the kind she copied from a book she barely understood. She erased the curve, redrew it—just a small tweak.

The moment she did—

Boom.

The portal surged. The sound was like a cannon firing from underground. A burst of violet-black light exploded from the center, and the man roared—not in pain, but like something ancient had just been unchained.

His other arm broke through. His torso followed.

He fell forward into the warehouse with a heavy thud, landing in a crouch like a predator. Smoke curled off him, his coat fluttering in the dying wind of the ritual.

Remu stepped back, stunned. He slowly stood up.

And then—

He looked at her.

Eyes like polished obsidian. No whites. Just pure, reflective black, deeper than space.

"...You’re not who I expected," he said, voice low, hands sliding into the pockets of his coat.

Remu stared at him, chest heaving. "You—... you’re the one I summoned?"

The man rolled his shoulders, neck popping. Then he smirked. Not wide, not insane. Just this tired, sideways grin.



"Guess so." He looked around at the ruined circle, the blown-out candles, the blood-stained floor. "This your first ritual?"

"...Yeah," she muttered.

"You’re lucky I’m nice."

"Nice?"

"Yeah." He lifted one finger and pointed lazily at her chest. "If you’d summoned someone else with a half-finished circle, they’d have ripped your soul out before you blinked."

She swallowed hard.

He sighed and walked past her, completely casual. "Anyway, thanks for the ride. This plane’s stuffy as hell, but I need to stretch my legs."

Remu turned to watch him as he looked up at the roof, then down at the dead body she’d dragged in. He tilted his head. "So. You want revenge on Lucifer?"

She nodded quickly. "Yes."

The man gave her a slow, unreadable look.

"...Cool. I’ve been bored anyway."

He started walking again, his coat trailing behind him like smoke.