《Return by the demon》


 Chapter 1

    The Legendary Excalibur Has Disappeared


    The legendary sword Excalibur, once wielded by King Arthur, has reportedly vanished from its resting place. Concern spread across villages, government institutions, archaeologists, and historians, all questioning the whereabouts of the sacred artifact. Authorities launched an extensive investigation, yet no trace of the legendary sword had been found.


    Meanwhile, in a distant land¡ªspecifically in a small town called Alavus, Finland¡ªa young boy trembled in fear, the target of relentless bullying. He kept his head down, enduring the blows and kicks from his tormentors. Among them, a boy named Ezekiel seemed to take particular delight in the scene. His footsteps echoed ominously as he approached, sending a wave of dread through the trembling boy. His heart pounded, warning him of his impending doom.


    Ezekiel poured fuel over the boy¡¯s body and smirked. ¡°Hey, fatso, why don¡¯t you try running? I¡¯ll count from one to five. If you¡¯re still here by then, I¡¯ll burn you alive.¡± He flicked his lighter, and the countdown began.


    Despite his fading faith in God, his fragile hope, and his overwhelming terror, the boy forced himself to his feet and ran with all his might. His heavy frame struggled to keep pace, but he pushed forward nonetheless.


    By the time Ezekiel reached five, he ruthlessly tossed the lit match toward him. As the flames engulfed the boy¡¯s body, Ezekiel laughed maniacally. ¡°Burn in hell right here, Arthur! You¡¯re nothing! Even God won¡¯t save you! Ha-ha-ha! Roast like the fat pig you are!¡±


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    Arthur writhed in agony, his screams echoing as death stared him in the face. Desperation filled his soul, and through his suffering, he howled, ¡°Where is God¡¯s mercy?! Why?! What have I done wrong?! Isn¡¯t God almighty?! Ha-ha-ha¡­ To hell with it! I want to die and end this misery!¡±


    Fear overtook the bullies as they realized Arthur might actually die. Panic-stricken, they scattered. No one dared to defy Ezekiel¡ªhis family¡¯s wealth shielded him from consequences. Unlike the others, Ezekiel remained, savoring Arthur¡¯s suffering. Only when Arthur collapsed from exhaustion did he douse him with water. He didn¡¯t want it to end too soon¡ªhe wanted to torment Arthur again tomorrow.


    Once everyone had left, Arthur slowly opened his eyes. He lay motionless, barely clinging to life. Burns covered his body, and his strength had all but faded. Passersby merely stepped over him, pretending he didn¡¯t exist. Some cared, but none were brave enough to act.


    To Arthur, all humans were cowards, bound by invisible chains. Hatred consumed his heart¡ªnot just toward them, but toward himself.


    As night fell, Arthur struggled to his feet, staggering home. His house was nothing more than a crumbling shelter. Inside, his bedridden mother clung to life, connected to medical equipment. She remained in a coma, unable to move or speak. Arthur survived by shining shoes on the streets, earning just enough to get by.


    Upon arriving home, he kissed his mother¡¯s forehead, praying for her well-being. She had always been his only source of comfort¡ªthe sole thread keeping his shattered world from collapsing entirely. His father was a mystery, a subject his mother never spoke of. But Arthur didn¡¯t care.


    After washing away the filth of the day¡¯s torment, he collapsed onto his bed, longing for a moment of peace¡ªeven if just for a while.


    Then, as he drifted into deep sleep, something unimaginable occurred. His body began to levitate. Unaware of what was happening, Arthur remained trapped in his unconscious state. A mysterious entity manifested before him, radiating an overwhelming aura that distorted space, time, and reality itself. The balance of the universe trembled.


    The entity shifted its form¡ªinto a magnificent, divine sword.


    Without warning, it plunged into Arthur¡¯s chest. A pain unlike anything he had ever known spread through his body. He watched in horror as his organs spilled from within him, utterly powerless to resist.


    And in that moment, there was nothing.


    Nothing but surrender.

 Rise the king!

    After all the madness had ceased, Arthur awoke from his sleep. His vacant gaze fixed on the decaying ceiling above him. In an instant, his mind dragged him back to the events of last night. A dream? He wanted to believe it was nothing more than a nightmare, but the wounds on his body and the charred remnants of his school uniform told him otherwise.


    That morning, as usual, he got up and prepared for the day. But not for school. His uniform was ruined, and his hatred for that place had only grown stronger. Today, he chose to work, setting up his tools to continue his job as a humble shoe shiner. At the very least, it helped with their finances and allowed him to save for his mother¡¯s medical treatment.


    Under the scorching sun, Arthur offered his services to passing pedestrians. Yet, as the evening fell upon the city, only five people had spared him their coins.


    "Hah... This wretched world. How much longer must I endure this suffering?" he sighed inwardly.


    On his way home, a sharp honk halted his steps. From the distance, someone strode toward him with arrogance. Ezekiel.


    The young man looked pristine and smelled of luxury¡ªeverything Arthur was not. With a sneer of contempt, Ezekiel tossed a bundle of cloth at him.


    "Hey, my pet pig! Here, take this¡­ My apologies for burning that pathetic uniform of yours yesterday! Hahaha¡ªdon¡¯t forget to wear it!"


    Ezekiel laughed mockingly before stepping into his lavish car and driving off. Arthur simply lowered his gaze, gripping the uniform tightly. He smiled.


    But that smile was empty, a fragile mask concealing the agony within.


    With a heavy heart, he returned home. Upon arrival, he cleaned himself up and prepared a meal for his mother. She was the only light in this dark world, the sole warmth amidst his suffering.


    Once the meal was ready, he carried a plate into her room. With gentle hands, he picked up a spoon, ready to feed her.


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    "Mother, let¡¯s eat..."


    No response.


    Arthur froze. He observed her face. Pale. Lips unmoving.


    But he refused to believe it.


    "Aah¡­ Why am I thinking such nonsense? Hihihi¡­ She¡¯s just sleeping, right? I¡¯ll wait for you, Mom..."


    For hours, he sat before her lifeless body, smiling as if convincing himself that this was all an illusion. Yet, when he finally leaned in to check her breath...


    Reality struck him.


    She was gone.


    Tears streamed down his face, but his expression remained blank¡ªhis soul had withered alongside the only person he had ever loved.


    Without a word, Arthur rose, retrieved a shovel, and began digging a grave behind their house.


    The heavens wept with him. Rain poured, wind howled, lightning cracked the sky. Yet, he kept digging, unfazed by the cold biting into his skin. Every shovelful of earth reminded him of his suffering¡ªthe humiliation, the loneliness, the ruin.


    His heart rotted in hatred.


    And now, only two thoughts consumed him: to destroy the world or to end himself.


    Once the grave was deep enough, he gently laid his mother¡¯s body within it.


    It was done.


    Only emptiness remained.


    Arthur returned inside, grabbed a bottle of rat poison. His hands trembled as he twisted the cap off. His eyes were bloodshot, his gaze hollow.


    Without hesitation, he drank it.


    Then, he set the house on fire.


    Flames devoured the walls, the furniture, the memories. The inferno reflected in his fading eyes.


    With faltering steps, Arthur staggered toward his mother¡¯s grave. His body weakened. He collapsed, his eyes fluttering shut, embracing the end.


    But in those final moments, just as consciousness slipped away, something appeared.


    A figure loomed before him.


    A figure he had seen in his dreams.


    "Hah? Look at you... pitiful, yet intriguing. Aren¡¯t you even curious who I am? Or at least a little surprised?"


    Arthur, resigned to his fate, let out a weak chuckle.


    "What right do I have to ask? I don¡¯t even have the right to live..."


    The demon laughed.


    "Hahaha! Even as you die, your hatred and wrath persist. What a waste to let it all end here."


    Arthur¡¯s lifeless eyes stared blankly.


    "I am Bealforin, a demon born from eternal darkness. Before the final judgment, I will bring calamity¡­ and I have chosen you, oh King."


    Arthur¡¯s breath hitched.


    "King? What do you mean?"


    "You are the heir to the throne of darkness. I can pull you back from death, and in return, you will give me one thing¡­ vengeance. Accept me as your servant, and I shall raise you as the new ruler¡ªthe one who will bring true equality to this wretched world."


    Arthur¡¯s blood boiled. His smoldering rage flared anew. The void in his eyes burned with unholy fire.


    "Defying the world...? HAHAHAHA!"


    Bealforin watched in amusement.


    "I suppose that¡¯s what I desire¡­ Of course, I know nothing comes for free. You¡¯re a demon¡­ and I don¡¯t care."


    Arthur grinned¡ªhis first genuine smile, not one of resignation, but of madness.


    "I accept!"


    Bealforin¡¯s lips curled into a wicked grin.


    "Very well. I shall purge the poison from your body¡­ Prepare yourself. Ah, but I forgot¡­ you enjoy dying, don¡¯t you? Hahaha! Your Majesty¡­ rise!"


    Arthur¡¯s blood seared through his veins. His entire being was torn apart and rebuilt. He howled in agony, yet amidst the screams, laughter echoed.


    And within the raging storm, a new king was born.