The Nameless Heir-Chapter 57: Demon Lord Returs

"Let’s go," Kael muttered. "We don’t have a lot of time."

He didn’t want to waste another second. They needed to get Caius and find a way out of this messed-up world.

As they walked toward their inn, they saw the diner owner—and the people who had been there—being arrested by the elite guards.

They were different from the normal ones. Bigger, more built, and dressed in fancier gear. They carried double-handed axes and long swords sharp enough to cleave a man in half.

The mages held staffs with glowing red orbs on the tips. They walked with pride, power, and authority as they dragged the men through the streets, surrounded by the people of the kingdom.

One of the men started to scream, "The Demon Lord has returned to save us all!"

At first, no one moved.

Then another voice joined in.

And another.

Just like that, one by one, the crowd started cheering.

He looked at them. Their faces were tired, worn—but now they smiled like children seeing sunlight for the first time in days.

They were filled with joy—and most importantly, hope.

The kind that only shows up when you’ve run out of options. The kind that clings to anything that might save you.

The hope of being saved.

"Damn you, old man," he muttered under his breath.

The words came low. Not angry. Not soft. Just tired.

Like a son forced to carry out the last wish of a father he never asked for.

A part of him hated it.

Another part knew... he owed him.

"Did you say something?" Liz asked.

"No." He shook his head. "Let’s get moving."

It didn’t take long for the obvious to settle in—

Cold, quiet, and heavy.

They wouldn’t make it inside the castle.

Not without being seen.

"I have a plan," Kael muttered, arms crossed.

"What is it?" Aria asked, her eyes narrowing.

"I need you two to get out of the city and wait for me outside," he said. "Once we’re out, we find the rift and return to Olympus."

"You don’t know where it is?" Aria asked, frowning.

"No. We were just dropped randomly," Liz replied, brushing dust off her sleeve.

Aria leaned back and sighed. "This is going to be difficult to find then."

"Don’t worry," Liz said, trying to sound calm. But her fingers tapped the table—sharp and restless.

"How are you going to enter the castle?" Aria asked again, though her voice came slower this time. Like she already knew.

Kael didn’t look up. "Don’t worry. Just leave it to me," he continued.

"I have the Helm of Darkness. I’ll be fine."

Aria blinked. "What is that?"

Liz opened her mouth to explain—

But Kael raised a hand. Cut her off without looking.

"We don’t have time," he said. "Just be ready. Meet me outside."

Liz nodded once. "Sounds good."

They waited until the sun disappeared behind the rooftops.

Liz and Aria pulled their robes over their shoulders, hoods low, and started to walk toward the gate, their eyes on the road.

The city felt still.

The moon hung high—cold, bright, silent.

Kael stood alone in the dark. Eyes closed, then he drew in a breath, slow and steady. The shadows around him reacted.

"Let’s go," he muttered.

The shadows rose and slipped the mask over his face. Then they stirred at his feet—crawling upward like smoke catching wind. They wrapped around his body, swirling tighter until they took shape.

In an instant, he appeared above the town.

His coat dragged in the wind, loose and heavy, shifting like black fire. His hands in his pockets behind him. The moon hung, casting a pale glow as he stood still—watching the people below like a god, they all staring back at him in silence. Frozen.

A single voice broke the silence.

"The Demon Lord has returned!"

It echoed down the street—loud, shaky, almost desperate.

Others followed.

The cry grew louder. Faster.

They shouted his name—not like a king, but like a last prayer.

Begging him to help them.

Like he did before.

Like he would again.

He looked toward them—then vanished into thin air.

Liz and Aria used the moment to slip through the chaos.

Aria moved fast, hands clenched into fists at her sides. She glanced at Kael one last time—quick, sharp—then pulled her hood down, hiding her eyes.

Liz followed close behind, silent. Her steps were steady, but her lips stayed tight, pressed into a hard line. She didn’t look back.

Her eyes locked forward. Cold. Focused.

Kael reappeared in front of the castle, unseen.

He slipped through the main gates, moving past the guards without a sound.

His pace quickened as he searched.

First floor. Then the next.

Left. Right.

Room after room. Hall after hall.

Each one empty.

He kept going, but the layout twisted in his head. The walls all looked the same.

He wasn’t sure where he started anymore.

He was moving fast... but it felt like standing still.

He was lost.

He kept running around, double-checking every floor—still nothing.

Until finally, one door stood slightly open—just enough for sound to slip through.

Kael slowed. The air felt heavier here.

He leaned in, pressing his hand lightly against the wall, and peeked through the crack.

Inside, two men stood in front of someone seated. The two men were on one knee, heads lowered.

"Did you find her?" the voice asked. Calm. Measured. Familiar.

"No, we have not, Lord," one of them answered. "We searched everywhere. She’s gone."

"And the elf?" the voice pressed—still calm, still steady.

"No sign. But there’s a rumor... someone saw an archer take out a pack of wolves. Saved a few people. Could be her."

"If it’s not her," the voice said, "then destroy this world. Move on to the next. Like always."

A pause.

Then the man’s eyes shifted—slow and smooth—locking onto the crack in the door.

"And the outsider?" he asked, like the words were meant for Kael—like he knew he was listening.

"He’s locked in the lower level of the castle."

The seated figure didn’t move.

Then, softly—too softly—he said,

"Kill him."

Kael froze.

The man’s eyes shifted—slow and smooth—straight to the crack in the door.

They didn’t blink.

Kael’s stomach twisted.

He knew.

He saw him.

Kael wasn’t sure how that man knew his presence, but at this moment, it didn’t matter.

He had different priorities.

He pushed himself away from the door, stepping away quietly, holding his breath.

He needed to move.

Now.

He rushed through the halls, his steps echoing behind him.

He moved faster and faster, like shadows—until he reached a narrow door tucked into a corner.

He grabbed the handle and pulled.

A cold air hit his face with a hint of iron and something decaying. Like it had been trapped behind the door for months.

He ignored it and moved forward.

Stairs. Leading down.

Without hesitation, he took them two at a time. The stone grew colder with each step.

Then came the whisper—soft, almost drowned by his footsteps.

Envy’s voice.

It was faint. Twisting through the dark like smoke.

He didn’t stop.

Room after room, he pushed through them all.

Empty.

Dusty.

Silent.

Until one door creaked open on its own.

He stepped inside—and stopped breathing.

The light didn’t reach this room. The shadows didn’t move.

It felt... wrong.

Like the air itself had died.

And then he saw them.

The people from the diner.

Hanging.

Hooked to the walls like meat.

Carved. Slashed. Throats slit. Faces frozen mid-scream.

Limbs bent wrong—like they had struggled until the very end.

Kael dropped to his knees.

His breath caught midway.

He didn’t notice the tears until everything turned to haze.

His stomach twisted violently, like it was trying to rip itself apart.

He felt like he was going to throw up.

He doubled over, choking on nothing.

He couldn’t speak.

Couldn’t move.

Couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

"Why... why?" he muttered, voice breaking.

"Why would they go this far?"

His hands trembled. He couldn’t stop shaking.

"How could someone be capable of doing such a thing?"

Then—Caius.

The thought slammed into him like a blow to the chest.

He stumbled up and ran—out the door, down the hall, into the next room.

There, on the floor, barely breathing...

lay Caius.

Bruised. Cut. Dried blood caked his arms. His eyes fluttered open, dazed.

"Caius! I’m here!"

He blinked slowly. His lips moved.

"I... I came here alone..."

Kael dropped beside him and checked his pulse.

Weak. But alive.

He scooped him into his arms without thinking.

But before he could move—

Boots. Dozens.

The guards had arrived.

He gritted his teeth, then adjusted Caius’s weight in his arms, and ran.

"I got you, man," he muttered.

But Caius didn’t respond.

He moved fast. He needed Liz to heal him.

He shot through the lower halls, chased by shouting men with their weapons drawn.

They knew he was inside. He needed to hurry now.

He pushed through the last doors and burst into the night—

And stopped.

The elite knights were waiting.

The moonlight shined down—pale and sharp.

Kael didn’t move.

But inside, something boiled—low and steady, like a fire pressed beneath stone.

Rage.

It sat behind his eyes. Quiet. Focused.

He stood still—cold, breath slow, hands steady.

Then, under his breath, he muttered,

"Pride... kill them all."

The ground darkened behind him.

From his shadow, something massive rose—slow, heavy, silent.

Pride stepped forward. Each step cracked the ground. Each step made the air thicker.

It towered above them. Stretching into the night like a beast pulled from myth.

The knights couldn’t move—they froze in place.

Pride lunged. The ground exploded beneath his feet. He swung his blade from the side—it tore through the earth, and chunks of broken stone flew in every direction. Five men were caught in the arc. His sword tore through them like papers. Bones cracked. Blood splashed across the walls in thick streaks. Their armor split open. Their bodies hit the ground. Hard.

Another wave came.

Pride didn’t stop. He brought his sword down from above so hard it smashed into a soldier—his bones shattered on contact. The ground cracked from the impact. The rest of the soldiers were thrown back, and the others nearby leapt backward on instinct, trying to avoid it.

One of the knights saw an opening and charged at Kael—but a hand rose from Kael’s shadow. Pride grabbed the knight’s head before he could reach him and crushed his skull in his palm.

Then the air changed.

It thickened—like something heavy had slipped into the world without a sound.

The corpses hadn’t even finished falling when two figures stepped forward.

One wore black armor. Perfect. Unscratched.

He dragged a golden blade through the dirt—slow and careless. His eyes locked on Kael with calm certainty.

He didn’t speak. He didn’t smile.

But he looked like he’d already won.

Beside him, a second figure emerged.

Draped in light green cloth. A massive bow rested across his back.

He stayed half in the shadow. Unmoving.

Only his eyes showed.

Cold. Focused.

Like they weren’t looking at Kael—

But through him.

"You can’t run forever," the swordsman said.

His voice was sharp. Quiet. Clear.

Kael didn’t answer.

He didn’t flinch.

Kael raised his hand and gave him the middle finger.

His grin was sharp. Tired.

"Come and get me," he said, voice low.

Then he sank into his shadow and vanished.

Only the aftermath remained—

Some of their limbs still twitching.

Blood coated the ground.

Silence thick with death.

Kael reappeared outside the gate.

Liz and Aria were waiting.

"Liz, heal him. Hurry," Kael said, voice low but firm.

Liz dropped to her knees beside Caius, her hands already glowing.

While she worked, Kael turned away.

He called out,

"Cyrus. Come here."

The ground trembled.

Shadows stretched.

Something ancient stirred beneath the surface.

And slowly...

Cyrus rose.

Fangs gleaming under the moonlight.

Eyes burning—deep, steady blue.

Each step cracked stone beneath his claws.

His wings stretched wide—casting a long shadow.

Kael stepped closer, hand on his head.

"You’ve grown, buddy," he muttered.

"I guess Mother’s been treating you good."

They climbed onto Cyrus’s back.

In a blink, they shot upward—breaking through the night like a spear of shadow.

Wind slammed into their faces. The world below shrank.

Cyrus’s wings spread wide—reddish-black and massive.

Each beat pulled them higher, tearing through clouds like silk.

Behind Kael, Caius stirred.

His eyes barely opened. His voice cracked.

"Am I dead...?"

Liz pulled him in, arms wrapping tight.

"You’re alright. You’re safe."

Kael glanced back. A faint smile crossed his lips.

"You’re not dead, man. Welcome back."

For just a moment...

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A vibration in the air.

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