There once existed a kingdom untouched by the world - a land hidden behind a veil of death and myth, surrounded by the Forest of Nightmares, the Mountains of Deathfrost, the Cave of Silence, and the scorched Land of Hellfire. This was the Demon Realm, a kingdom of unmatched power, ruled for generations by Demon Kings whose wisdom and might brought peace and prosperity to their kind.

No humans lived there. No elves, no dwarves - only demons. It was a world where might made right, where ancient magic flowed like blood through the stones, and where swords were an extension of the soul. The greatest among them stood above all - the Demon King, sovereign of the swordmasters and grand mages alike. Beneath him marched the Undefeated Legions, the Royal Demon Knights - guardians of the realm.

For centuries, the kingdom flourished.

But fate is a cruel storyteller. It never allows peace to last without demanding a price.

The king, though powerful, had no heir. For years, the throne waited in silence. Then, one day, as if plucked from the void, the king presented a young boy - a child not of his blood - and named him heir. The boy bore no noble lineage, no known past. But in his eyes was a fire that made even seasoned knights bow with respect. He grew under the king's watchful gaze, noble in word, strong in spirit, and wise beyond his years. The people rejoiced. At last, the kingdom had a future.

But their joy was short-lived.

Ten years later, the king died suddenly and without explanation. His passing was swift, his burial even swifter. The boy, now a man, took the throne. The kingdom mourned... but not for long.

For the day he wore the crown... was the day their nightmare began.

The new king's smile twisted into a sneer. His hands, once gentle, now gripped power like a vice. One by one, the old king's loyal advisors vanished - whispered to have fallen ill or left of their own will. In their place came strangers, sycophants loyal only to the tyrant. The skies over the kingdom darkened not from clouds, but from silence, fear, and oppression.

The people suffered.

And their suffering had no voice.

But every tyrant fears one thing - a spark in the ashes.

Our tale begins with such a spark - an 8-year-old demon boy, a nameless worker lost in the labyrinthine halls of the royal castle. He was nobody, born of nobody, living in the shadow of greatness he could never touch. His only family was his sister, ten years older, a proud and fierce apprentice of the Royal Demon Knights. She was his light, his guardian, his everything.

And on the day of her official knighting - she disappeared.

No trace. No answers. Only silence.

The boy begged. He searched. He fought against walls too high to climb, and shadows too deep to name. Those in power turned blind eyes. Whispers turned to lies. And he was left alone with a single truth: Something had been stolen from him.

No one would speak. No one would help.

And so, the boy vowed to find her - even if it meant walking through the fires of hell itself.

He did not yet know the weight of destiny upon his back. He did not yet see the tides that moved in secret. He was only a child - fragile, broken, and afraid.

But in that moment, a demon was born.

Not one of cruelty.

Not one of tyranny.

But a demon of fire, of wrath, and of unyielding will.

This is not the tale of a hero.

This is the legend of a liberation.