Xelvar Vaal Vorthyx, the once-mighty Demon Lord who commanded fear across the underworld, stared at his hands in disbelief.
They were small, soft, and unscarred—not the battle-hardened claws that had crushed empires.
Sunlight, that cursed glow never seen in the depths of his infernal domain, streamed through a window and assaulted his face.
"AAAAh~" He bolted upright with a yell, heart pounding.
No sunlight ever reached the underworld. What sorcery is this?
He scanned his surroundings, eyes narrowing.
The room was pitifully mundane: a wooden bed with a lumpy mattress, a desk cluttered with papers, a bizarre chair with wheels, a bookshelf stuffed with colorful tomes, and windows letting in that wretched, undemonic light.
His gaze dropped to his body.
His legs were short, his clothes soft and simple—a loose shirt and pants that lacked the grandeur of his obsidian armor.
What peasant's body have I been cursed into?
A sudden realization hit him.
Have I… reincarnated? As a child?
A wicked grin spread across his face as he threw his head back and bellowed, "Tremble, mortals! The great Demon Lord Xelvar Vaal Vorthyx has returned! Your world shall kneel before my unrivaled power, and your souls will fuel my eternal dominion!"
His voice, however, came out high-pitched and squeaky, robbing the declaration of its intended menace. He froze, horrified.
This voice… it's an insult to my legacy!
He needed to see his face.
Surely, even as a child, he'd retained some of his chiseled, awe-inspiring features.
He vaguely recalled his youth before his first ascension to demonhood—handsome, regal, a face that could seduce or terrify.
Let's see this new vessel's potential.
He searched the room for a mirror but found none.
Tch. What kind of hovel lacks a mirror?
"Ryo!" A sharp, angry voice pierced the air, followed by heavy footsteps thundering closer.
dhum dhum dhum
Xelvar's head whipped toward the door.
The voice was female, laced with fury, and the name "Ryo" grated on his pride.
Who dares address me so casually?
He took a step back, fists clenched, ready to obliterate whatever fool approached.
The door slammed open, revealing a woman with white hair tied in a messy bun, her face flushed with irritation.
She wore a simple dress stained with flour, and her hazel eyes blazed with a ferocity that made even Xelvar's blackened heart skip a beat.
This… is no ordinary woman.
"How long does it take you to get ready, Ryo?" she shouted, hands on her hips.
Xelvar's eyes narrowed.
"Silence, woman! Who do you call Ryo? I am Xelvar Vaal Vorthyx, scourge of the nine realms, and you will—"
"RYO!" The woman's voice cracked like a whip, and she charged forward with terrifying speed.
Xelvar, despite his centuries of combat experience, felt a primal chill.
Instinctively, he thrust his palm forward, summoning his dark magic to reduce her to ash.
Die, insolent wretch!
But...
What he had expected to be a dark fire fierce enough to consume even bones without ash turned out to be nothing more than a pitiful trickle of water, sputtering from his hand and barely dampening the floor.
What in the abyss?!
Before he could process this humiliation, the woman seized him like a rag doll, sat on the bed, and flung him across her lap.
What is this madness?!
slap
His mind reeled as her hand came down with a resounding slap on his backside.
"How dare you talk to your mother like that!" she roared, delivering another stinging blow.
slap
"Unhand me, you vile harpy!" Xelvar bellowed, thrashing futilely. "I am the Demon Lord! You'll burn for this indignity—ow!" Another smack silenced his threats, the pain sharp and humiliating.
"How dare you touch the great Xelvar Vaal Vorthyx!"
"You think you can talk to your own mother like that?!" she snapped, raising her hand again. "I'll teach you some respect!"
slap
"Ow!!!"
"Apologize!"
"Never!" he spat, only to yelp as another blow landed.
The pain was unbearable—not because it was intense, but because it was so undignified, humiliating.
Finally, he gritted his teeth and muttered, "Fine, I'm sorry, woman!"
Smack!
"Don't call your mother 'woman'!"
"Alright, sorry, Mother!" he choked out, his pride crumbling.
She released him, and he slid to the floor, rubbing his sore backside.
The woman—his mother in this cursed world—stood and dusted her hands.
"Stop playing and come downstairs quick. I need to boil eggs, and we're out of water. You're already late for class, Ryo... When will you ever grow up?" Muttering, she stormed out, leaving the door ajar.
Xelvar sat on the floor, seething.
That monstrous woman will pay. One day, soon, for sure, I'll crush her under my heel.