Saintess? Not Anymore! I'd Rather be a Destroyer-Chapter 330 - 267: New demon King

"What I’m saying is that you’re someone whom I find unique. You saved several of the captive demons and made them your subordinates. You never treat them unfairly and you’re always kind. And I also know that you despise King Girsal, he killed your elder sister Ruvia. So don’t you want revenge?" Diablo asked and it took all Vatium had not to smirk. In his past life Diablo didn’t speak like this to him since he hadn’t associated with the demons nor tried to help them, but now Diablo spoke to him sincerely.

"You’re willing to let me use your people for my personal goals?" Vatium questioned.

"There’s a catch. You must make a Demon Empire, I want an empire of Demons that no race would dare look down on. Now my people are scattered all around and I want you to unite them. So do we have a deal Vatium?" Diablo tilted his head. Despite him asking a question, his tone implied the decision had already been made.

Vatium sighed, "As much as I don’t like your attitude I would agree."

"I knew I could count on you boy," Diablo said with a smile. And with that, he disappeared as soon as he’d appeared.

.........

In a tall dark castle with many towers protruding from each side. Demons could be seen walking around hurriedly while others had a gloomy expression on their faces. Continuing towards the dark halls a man was sitting on a throne, his face expressionless as he closed his eyes calmly. Diablo appeared behind him, releasing a pressure so great the man instantly coughed up blood.

"Is my time over already Demon god Diablo?" The man asked through labored breaths.

"Well you haven’t made my people prosper these few years, and they just keep on dwindling, so you’re relieved of your duty Demon King," Diablo smiled before piercing the Demon King from behind the throne as his black blood spilled until the ground.

It hadn’t been clear due to the low lighting, but many demons filled the throne room. Being soldiers, having spears and the like-standing at attention. With the death of the Demon King however, they were kneeling, not one daring to look up. They recognized Diablo to be the Demon God.

"Alright. So, you all have a new Demon King, do treat him with respect and listen to his words. He’s actually a smart young man rescuing the slaves over these years. He thinks he can fool me but I’m much smarter than that," Diablo stated before he disappeared.

"I wonder who this Demon King is," a fair woman with black eyes with blue pupils chuckled as she left the throne room. She had 4 horns on her head, being covered head to toe in a black dress.

Her eyes enlarged as she gazed forward. She was able to see many demons commuting and talking with each other. Some walked down dirt roads while others were relaxing. Many demon children playing and laughing, as carefree as could be. She smiled at the sight, however, that smile turned into a frown as she caught something in the corner of her eye. She turned, focusing on the place which must’ve been at least a day’s walk. She was currently eyeing a village.

In the village she watched as humans burst through the gates. Carrying spears and other weapons from which they used to attack the demon villagers. Despite the suddenness of their assault, her face was straight-laced. Hardly any emotion escaped it except the frown indicating the disapproval of everything. She’d seen this many times.

In an instant, a bright light encased her and one moment, she’d been atop the demon tower and the next she was in a forest. She walked slowly, her eyes still enlarged to see far before her. She pulled a blade from her hilt, having a curved blade and black hilt with scales. She lifted it, slashing into the air. In less than a few seconds the humans who had been relentless in their assault stopped. The demons who’d been valiantly fighting them off stared in confusion as foam started to seep from their mouths. The humans were shaking as blood also trickled from their eyes before they fell to the ground. A demon slowly walked forward, crouching beside one of the bodies before placing his finger on the human’s neck. No pulse. The humans were dead!

The demons all smiled at the sudden miracle but most winced instantly, their wounds being grave. However, as they were continuing to reel from the injuries, they started to fade away. Blood still remained on their clothes but no open wounds were to be seen.

The demons instinctively knew the cause. All turning to their left, ahead was a 4 horned woman. They all bowed in respect before proceeding to pick up the bodies around them. Not the human ones, some demons had been killed in the madness. Teary eyed, they carried their fellow demonkin away, preparing funerals and the mourning period.

"When would all this suffering end? Lady Miska." A young girl asked as she looked at the blue eyed demon. The young girl’s black eyes were puffy, from crying. She had a bit of blood on her, it was unclear to Miska if it was from an injury of her own that had been healed or from a fellow demonkin.

"I don’t know," Lady Miska answered with a dejected expression as she looked around the village to see that their small huts were burnt, the sandy floors dyed with blood as others shivered in fear.

Lady Miska gave one last look of sorrow before she made her way out of the village.

"The Demon King’s scent is getting stronger, but that way is towards a human Kingdom," she muttered with a frown. I’ll have to find this Demon King myself..."

___________

"Master Vatium, are you alright?" Ostusi’s voice broke the silence as the campfire crackled, casting a warm glow on the group resting in the heart of the forest. The scent of damp earth mingled with burning wood, the night calm but for the occasional rustle of leaves.

Vatium sat slightly apart from the others, his gaze lost in the dancing flames. His fingers clenched tightly around his cloak, knuckles pale.

"I’m fine," he replied, his voice soft, yet distant. He closed his eyes, the heat of the fire giving way to the cold touch of memory.

Once, he had been a boy who knew nothing of the world’s cruelty.

He hadn’t attended the prestigious Mystical Academy, where prodigies shaped the future. Instead, he was sent to the Royal Academy in Sandeph—a place where power determined worth, and kindness was weakness.

He remembered the echoes of jeering laughter, the whispered insults, the bruises hidden beneath his uniform. Queen Amber, cold and cruel, had made her disdain for him clear. Her son Ralph was worse, leading those who helped bully Vatium.

Vatium was a timid, eager to please, desperate boy, who was eager for approval from those who only saw him as a stain.