Reincarnated as the Demon King's Son

“Hello, welcome to the Grand Light Library. Are you looking for any particular book?” A beautiful librarian approached him.

“Thank you. I am just looking around if you don’t mind.”

“We don’t mind at all. You are not from this city, right?”

“Yes. I am on a study tour.”

“From what establishment?”

“Withokere University.”

“Oh my… okay. You can take as much time as you want here. The library is filled with the knowledge of our culture and philosophy. If you are interested in that, you will have a wonderful time.”

“Thank you.” Tom smiled.

“Oops, almost forgot.” The lady put a bracelet over Tom’s left wrist.

“This device lets us know how long you are staying in the library. We value people who study about our culture, so there might be rewards if you study long enough. Of course there is a test before you get it.”

“I’ve never seen something like this before, but thank you again.”

“Enjoy your time.”

Toom entered the maze of shelves. The library was grand: tall and spacious with wooden stairs leading to seemingly anywhere. There were alleys of book shelves and even hallways of books. Everywhere, he looked, books were there.

It was as if the books were part of the building itself, becoming one of the building blocks of this grand structure.

‘Corduul said I will find my clue here. But how?”

Suddenly, a cat meowed as it perched on a table.

He activated his godly eyes and no information came out.

‘That cat… is it my clue?’

Tom approached the cat slowly, trying not to scare it away. “Come with me.”

The cat looked at him then leaped away. When it landed, its feet let out a vibrating string, like the string of a guitar perhaps.

Every step it took created that particular sound.

Tom let it walk away before sneakily following it. Currently, the cat was his only lead. It walked through the hallway of books, making seemingly random turns and even went up and down on the flight of stairs.

After a few minutes of this, the cat entered through the small opening of a door.

Tom waited a few seconds before he slighty pushed the door and took a peek inside. There was nothing inside except a set of spiraling stairs that led down.

He entered, and closed the door behind him. He looked at the wall. It was only made out of simple bricks. Simple and hastily made, very unlike the architectural philosophy of Xorfast.

“I am at the right place.” Tom walked down the stairs. His godly eyes were activates and he was ready to fight at any time.

The spiraling stairs kept on going. Looking from above, it seemed to go down endlessly without end.

After a while, Tom arrived in a tight tunnel. “Where is that cat?”

Suddenly a sound of chanting rang within the tunnel. It came from the other side.

The sound of cultists chanting a dark ritual was unsettling, to say the least. The air was thick with an eerie energy, as if the very fabric of reality were being twisted and warped by the dark forces at work.

The chanting itself was a low, guttural sound, with a monotonous rhythm that seemed to build in intensity as the ritual progressed. The words were whispered in a language that was not quite recognizable, but the meaning was clear: they were calling upon powers beyond the comprehension of mortal men.

As the chanting continued, the air began to grow colder and more oppressive. The sound seemed to reverberate throughout the room, as if the very walls were alive with the dark energy of the ritual. 𝘳.𝑐𝘰

Occasionally, a sharp burst of sound would pierce through the chanting, like the shriek of some unearthly creature. It was enough to send shivers down the spine and make the hairs on the back of the neck stand on end. The sound of screaming women and crying babies came without warning.

Tom frowned before he began running inside the tunnel. He raised his fingers. “Silent steps.”

His movement stopped making any sound and he began to run on all four. His speed increased exponentially. He went so fast that he was basically vanishing from one spot to another.

When he arrived, he saw the cultists from above.

The group of cultists performing the dark ritual was a terrifying sight to behold. They were shrouded in black robes that seemed to absorb the very light around them, making them appear as though they were cloaked in darkness.

The cultists began to chant in a low, guttural voice, their words twisted and distorted into a language that was not quite recognizable. The chanting grew louder and more intense, as if the very air were being compressed by the dark energy of the ritual.

As the chanting continued, the air grew colder and more oppressive, and the room began to take on a sickly green glow. Strange symbols began to appear on the walls, glowing with an otherworldly light that seemed to pulse with the rhythm of the chanting.

The cultists were arranged in a circle, their faces obscured by the shadows of their hoods. In the center of the circle was an altar, upon which rested a grotesque idol of some dark deity. The idol was twisted and malformed, its features warped into a grotesque parody of humanity.

Tom widened his eyes. He knew what statue it was. It was one of his father’s demonic slaves. It was one of the weakest demons he had, but its power was still nothing this world could handle!

If that demon was summoned here, the whole continent, no, the whole world might be turned into hell!

Suddenly, the cultists fell silent, and a hush fell over the room. A figure stepped forward from the shadows, its form twisted and distorted by some dark magic. Its eyes glowed with an unholy light, and its voice was filled with an otherworldly power.

“Teke ke Dal’goxon!”

“Teke ke Dal’goxon!” 𝘪𝘳.𝒸𝘰𝑚

“Teke ke Dal’goxon!”

“Oh, hell no. I am not letting you guys destroy this beautiful city!”

Tom whipped his hand and Phantom Doomblade burst forth.

He pointed his blade down where the cultists looked at him in surprise. “Phantom Doomblade! Show your power and burn my enemies to nothingness!”

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