I breathed.
The air was cold.
Dense.
Heavy.
Each breath filled my lungs with almost painful precision, as if my body had not breathed in a long time.
I remained motionless.
Just long enough to analyze what was happening.
The sensation was different.
More stable. Heavier. More real.
I slowly raised my hand in front of my eyes.
The skin was pale. Perfect. Without a single imperfection.
My fingers were long, elegant—inhuman in their perfection. My black nails faintly reflected the nonexistent light of the room.
This body was perfectly functional.
I slowly closed my hand.
The mana responded immediately.
Slightly. Without violence. Not fully.
But it responded.
A dark, dense, silent flow.
I felt it circulating beneath my skin. Stable. Controlled. But limited.
I closed my eyes.
And began to observe the mana flowing within me, verifying the number of circles I possessed.
Six circles.
Stable. Complete. But limited.
That was when I understood.
This power was not mine.
It belonged to this body.
The Demon King.
I opened my eyes again.
The room before me was immense.
Black columns rose toward an invisible ceiling. The smooth floor faintly reflected my silhouette.
And beneath me—
A throne.
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I was sitting on it.
Naturally.
As if this body had never known any other place.
I stood up slowly.
There was no resistance. No pain. No weakness.
My soul had perfectly integrated into this body.
It did not reject me.
I felt only absolute stability.
Then—
I felt their presence.
In front of me.
Several individuals.
All equally powerful.
Ancient.
Motionless.
I did not move immediately.
I observed them first through mana.
Seven of them.
Seven distinct sources.
Dense. Controlled. Respectful.
Not hostile.
Waiting.
I stood fully.
Then, slowly, I raised my head.
They were kneeling.
Seven silhouettes.
Humanoid, but not entirely human.
Horns. Wings. Eyes of unnatural forms and colors.
Overwhelming presences.
Superior demons.
None of them dared to look up.
Then one of them spoke.
His voice was deep. Steady.
“Your Majesty.”
The words echoed through the room.
Your Majesty.
It was no longer Archmage.
No longer Eun-Ho.
It was the title of the Demon King.
I did not respond immediately.
I observed.
Their heartbeats. Their breathing. Their mana.
No hostility.
Only absolute loyalty.
This body belonged to them.
And therefore, logically—
I did as well.
I took a step forward.
The sound of my footsteps echoed through the chamber.
They stiffened.
Not out of fear.
Out of reverence.
I stopped before them.
They bowed lower.
I spoke.
My voice was different.
Deeper.
Colder.
Sovereign.
“How long have I been inactive?”
None of them showed surprise.
As if the question itself was natural.
The central demon answered.
“Three days, Your Majesty.”
Three days.
The calculation was immediate.
Causality had stabilized.
The world had accepted this outcome.
Interesting.
I raised my hand slightly.
The mana responded.
Weakly—but it was there.
Only the sixth circle.
Far inferior to what I once possessed.
But sufficient.
For now.
I lowered my hand.
Then asked another question.
“The Empire?”
Silence.
Then—
“Still standing, Your Majesty.”
Of course.
The world had continued.
As if nothing had happened.
As if Eun-Ho had never existed.
Logical.
I opened my eyes.
And gave my first order.
“Prepare a full report. I want to know everything that occurred during my absence.”
They answered instantly.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
They bowed deeper.
I turned.
And looked at the throne.
It did not belong to me.
Not yet.
But it accepted me.
As if causality itself had permitted it.
I raised my hand.
Dark mana gathered around my fingers.
Weak.
But present.
Enough to begin.
I was no longer Eun-Ho.
But this time—
I would decide for myself what Hwan, the Demon King, would become.
