Arc 2: Chapter 2 — Whispers of Power & the Demon Lord's Test
The throne room fell into a silence so deep it seemed the world itself held its breath.
The Demon Lord knelt before Fen Hao, and for a moment—Every soul present in the hall stood frozen.
Some, unable to bear the weight of that moment, slumped unconscious to the cold floor.Others stared, eyes blank with shock.
Ziyan , breath caught in her throat as she turned to Fen Hao—Her crimson eyes wide, her lips parted in a silent question.
In the hush, Fen Hao's thoughts churned like a storm:
"Who am I? Where am I? Demon God… Father, what kind of things did you do when you were traveling?"
He felt the weight of every gaze, but Ziyan saw only his confusion—The flicker of doubt in the eyes of a boy thrust into the depths of fate.
As the hall slowly settled, Fen Hao's calm voice cut through the lingering tension:
"I wish to speak privately with the Demon Lord."
A ripple of whispers, but no one dared to protest.
The Demon Lord rose from his kneel, a faint smile lingering at the corners of his lips.A flicker of something crossed his face—not fear, but a hint of ancient weariness, as if the weight of centuries pressed upon his shoulders.For all his power and calm, he seemed almost… resigned.
"Very well," he said.
.
He gestured, and the hall emptied—save for four souls who remained:
The Demon Lord.
Ziyan, stood quietly beside him, her fingers brushing lightly against her sleeve whenever she looked at Fen Hao—a habit she'd developed over the two weeks they had shared those silent, winter days.Sometimes she'd meet his gaze and smile faintly, other times she'd glance away quickly—as if afraid of what she might reveal in her eyes.
Xia, the Demon Lord's right hand—dressed in flowing pink, black curls cascading to her waist, and curved ears that marked her as something otherworldly.A single, silver, pink-furred tail flicked behind her, soft as moonlight, a subtle but constant reminder of her fox heritage.Her two pointed ears twitched at every sound, eyes flicking between Fen Hao and Ziyan with an amused curiosity—as if she delighted in watching mortals squirm under the weight of ancient secrets.
And Fen Hao, eyes calm but flicking—just once( well not a once)—toward Xia's ears.(Ziyan noticed, and pinched his arm softly in silent rebuke.)
When the last echoes of footfalls had died, the Demon Lord spoke first—his voice low and curious:
"Tell me… who are you really?"
Fen Hao met that question with quiet confidence:
"You said I am your Demon God. So tell me—who do you think I am?"
A soft laugh slipped from the Demon Lord's lips—ancient and amused.
"That's true," he murmured, his voice both wonder and certainty.
He drew a space ring from his hand and placed it on the table between them.Fen Hao's eyes narrowed.He recognized the ring at once—a highest-quality ring, rare in any realm, crafted to store the treasures of cultivators.He himself possessed a space ring, a gift from his father—one that had belonged to the mother he had never known.A ring he had never been able to open.
The Demon Lord's ring was different—only a bloodline's power could unlock it.With a single drop of blood, the ring's ancient seals glowed and yielded.
From within, the Demon Lord withdrew a single scroll—its parchment aged and frayed, edges whispering secrets of time.
He unrolled it with reverence, laying it across the table's heart for all to see.
The words within were old—so old they seemed to echo:
"Let not the blue sea glimpse the red moon—Who shall rise to challenge fate, and who shall fall?…Oh, Demon God… Oh, cursed blood of eternity…"
Ziyan leaned closer, her breath unsteady—And in that quiet moment, she remembered.
Two weeks had passed since Fen Hao fell from the sky and into her home.In that time, they had lived in the hush of winter, sharing silent mornings and long nights.On one of those nights, as she drifted to sleep, she heard him cry out:
"Don't do this… I am begging… please… Liyan…"
She woke with a start to see his hair, black as midnight, turned silver-white.His blue eyes burned red in the darkness.For a single heartbeat, the world seemed to crack open around him—And then he woke, breathless and lost.
That memory rose in her now, a flush blooming on her pale cheeks.Before she could stop herself, she looked away—blushing, embarrassed.Her voice was low, almost as if she was recalling something herself—something she would not speak aloud.
Fen Hao noticed her sudden change and tilted his head, his voice soft and curious:
"What is it, Ziyan?"
Ziyan's breath caught, her cheeks flushed. She looked away quickly, her voice low and almost a mutter:
"Not now… (you can't even remember… hum…)."
Fen Hao's eyes lingered on her for a moment, curiosity flickering in his thoughts—But he turned his eyes back to the ancient scroll, feeling the weight of every word upon him.
Ziyan took a steadying breath, her cheeks still pink as she leaned forward to read.Even Xia, usually calm as still water, seemed unsettled.
Fen Hao's mind was a tangle of questions—echoes of the prophecy, memories of his own but not him.
"Need answers," he thought."I've chased them for so long… will this finally reveal some answer?"
And in that hush, one question rose from the heart of them all:
"Why… does the Demon Lord call him Demon God?"
End of Arc 2: Chapter 2