The Black Mist Forest did not release Demian.
It acknowledged him.
As he stepped beyond its boundary, the fog receded—not reluctantly, but obediently. The twisted trees lowered their branches like kneeling sentinels. The whispers that once clawed at his sanity now murmured in reverence.
Demian staggered onto solid ground.
His body was ruined.
Bones creaked with each movement, veins burned like molten iron, and his heart beat with an unfamiliar rhythm—slow, heavy, absolute. Every breath carried weight, as if the world itself had grown cautious around him.
Inside him, something stirred.
"Hmph."
Lucifer's voice echoed within his mind, no longer booming across dimensions but compressed—contained—yet far from weak.
"You adapt quickly for a mortal."
Demian wiped blood from his lips. "You sound calmer than before."
"Do not mistake silence for submission," Lucifer replied coldly. "Your body is a cage, not a throne."
Demian chuckled softly.
"Funny," he said aloud, voice hoarse. "It feels more like you're the one adjusting."
A pulse of infernal pressure surged from his core.
The ground around him cracked.
Lucifer fell silent.
For the first time since the contract, Demian felt it clearly—
Authority.
Not borrowed power.
Not granted blessings.
Authority that recognized him as its source.
---
The Price of Containment
Demian collapsed beside a dead tree, sitting with his back against bark blackened by centuries of corruption.
"Explain," he said. "Now."
Lucifer scoffed. "Explain what? How you trapped an Emperor of Hell using a forest that predates the gods?"
Demian's eyes sharpened. "So you admit it worked."
A pause.
Then a low laugh.
"Yes," Lucifer admitted. "You are currently a paradox. A mortal soul reinforced by primordial mist, housing an imperial essence without collapsing."
Demian frowned. "Without collapsing?"
"Do not misunderstand," Lucifer said. "Your lifespan has shortened. Your soul is under constant erosion. Every use of my authority will burn you from the inside."
Demian closed his eyes.
Burning was familiar.
"I didn't come here to live long," he replied.
Lucifer was silent again—this time, thoughtful.
"You remind me of someone," he said slowly. "A king who once tried to chain heaven itself."
Demian opened his eyes. "Did he succeed?"
Lucifer smiled within the darkness.
"No."
Demian smirked. "Then I'll do better."
---
The First Command
A presence approached.
Demian sensed it before he saw it—six figures moving through the forest edge, clad in white armor trimmed with gold.
Holy Knights.
Scouts.
Their leader raised a hand. "Stop! Identify yourself!"
Demian stood.
His shadow stretched unnaturally long, twisting across the ground like a living thing.
One knight frowned. "Wait… is that—?"
Recognition flickered.
"Demian Valen," the knight whispered. "The commander's son."
Demian tilted his head. "You remember me."
The knight swallowed. "By order of the Church, you are to be—"
"Executed?" Demian finished calmly.
The knight's hand tightened around his sword. "You know the decree."
Demian sighed.
Inside him, Lucifer chuckled.
"Your first test," the Emperor murmured. "Command."
Demian raised his hand.
"Lucifer," he said quietly, "lend me one authority."
A pause.
Then—
"Very well."
The world darkened.
An invisible crown settled upon Demian's head.
He spoke a single word.
"Kneel."
Reality obeyed.
The Holy Knights dropped instantly, armor crashing against the ground as their bodies slammed down with bone-crushing force. Blood poured from their mouths, noses, ears.
They screamed.
Demian walked forward slowly, boots crunching against dirt.
"This," he said softly, "is for Rosenvale."
He extended his hand.
Black fire bloomed.
The knights were erased—no bodies, no ashes, no souls.
Nothing returned to the Church.
---
Echoes Across the World
Far away, in the Cathedral of Eternal Light, bells rang without being touched.
A High Priest staggered, clutching his chest.
"Impossible…" he whispered.
In a ducal palace, a crystal orb shattered.
In the imperial capital, the Emperor paused mid-step, heart pounding for no reason he could name.
Something had changed.
A new authority had entered the world.
Not divine.
Not demonic.
Something worse.
---
Terms of Coexistence
Demian leaned against a tree, breathing heavily.
Blood leaked from the corner of his mouth.
Lucifer spoke, voice quieter now.
"You are burning yourself."
Demian wiped the blood away. "Worth it."
"Foolish," Lucifer said. "But effective."
Demian closed his eyes. "Let's set rules."
Lucifer laughed. "Rules? You forget your position."
Demian's heartbeat intensified.
The infernal crown pressed down.
Lucifer's laughter stopped.
"You grant power when I ask," Demian said. "You advise when I allow. You do not control my body."
Silence.
Then—
"…Agreed."
Demian exhaled.
"And in return," he continued, "I'll fulfill your demands. Spread your influence. Break the false gods. Open paths to hell when the time comes."
Lucifer's voice softened, dangerous and pleased.
"Then we are aligned… for now."
Demian opened his eyes.
In them burned a calm, merciless resolve.
"Good," he said. "Because the Church just lost its first knight."
He turned toward the Holy City.
"And I'm just getting started."
---
End of Chapter 3
---