Darkness.
Then pain—a searing, burning sensation that flooded every fiber of his being. As consciousness returned, he gasped, drawing in air that felt too rich, too heavy with scents his mind couldn't identify. His eyes snapped open, revealing a stone ceiling illuminated by flickering torchlight, every tiny crack and ancient marking suddenly visible in perfect detail.
Where am I now? Jin-ho thought, his mind still reeling from the transition.
The Demon God had warned him about pain, but nothing could have prepared him for this. He tried to sit up, but his body felt wrong—too large, too powerful, limbs responding with alarming speed and strength. His hand shot out to steady himself against the cold stone slab beneath him, and he froze at the sight of it.
His hand was massive, the skin a deep crimson, black markings swirling across the surface. Sharp claws extended from his fingertips, gleaming in the torchlight. He could see every small detail of his new skin—microscopic scales, the subtle pulse of veins beneath the surface.
So this is the Demon King's body, he thought, remembering the Demon God's words about his new "vessel."
A sound escaped his throat—meant to be a startled gasp but emerging as a low, threatening growl that echoed off the chamber walls. He clamped his mouth shut, feeling sharp fangs press against his lips.
"My King," a deep voice spoke from somewhere in the shadows. "You have returned to us at last."
The voice hit his ears like thunder, though he knew it had been spoken softly. He could hear the being's heartbeat from across the room—a steady, slightly faster than human rhythm. Beneath that, he detected the scrape of armor against stone, the whisper of breath, even the subtle creak of leather boots.
He jerked at the sensory overload, his new body moving with such force that he nearly toppled off the stone slab. Something long and powerful whipped out behind him, knocking over a small ceremonial urn that shattered on the floor. He twisted to look and caught a glimpse of a thick, serpentine tail extending from his lower back, its tip adorned with a sharp barb.
A tail? No one mentioned a TAIL!
A strange, musky scent hit his nostrils—something complex and layered. It reminded him faintly of wood smoke mixed with metal and something organic. It seemed to be coming from the shadowed figure, intensifying as the being stepped closer.
A tall figure stepped forward and dropped to one knee. The being wore ornate black armor adorned with spikes and symbols Jin-ho didn't recognize. His face was ashen gray with glowing amber eyes, small horns protruding from his forehead. Jin-ho could see every minor detail—the tiny scales on the demon's skin, a faint scar across his jawline, the subtle pulse of a vein in his temple.
Jin-ho wanted to respond, to ask questions, but the words caught in his throat. His mouth opened and closed without sound.
Say something! Anything!
"I... um... hello?" he finally managed, his voice coming out as a deep, commanding rumble despite his uncertainty.
The kneeling figure looked up, confusion briefly crossing his features before he lowered his gaze again. The musky scent shifted, acquiring a sharper, more acidic note.
"After five centuries of waiting, the prophecy is fulfilled." The kneeling figure bowed his head deeper. "Kraxis, your General, remains your faithful servant, my King."
Jin-ho tried to stand but misjudged his new body's strength, launching himself up too quickly and staggering forward. His massive foot caught on the stone edge, and he barely prevented himself from crashing into the kneeling general. He fell back onto the stone slab, making it look like he just sat up on the edge. His tail lashed out behind him in agitation, sweeping several ritual objects off a nearby shelf.
The sound of his tail's movement was deafening to his enhanced hearing, and the scent of ancient dust filled his nostrils as artifacts clattered to the ground.
"Graceful entrance, Your Majesty," the familiar voice of the Demon God suddenly spoke inside his mind. "Perhaps next you'd like to trip and crush your most loyal general? That would certainly make an impression after five centuries."
You didn't tell me I'd have a TAIL! Or that everything would be so LOUD! And what are all these smells? Jin-ho thought back in accusation.
"Did I not? Must have slipped my mind. Consider them bonus features. Your senses are now worthy of your station—you can hear heartbeats, see a gnat's wings from across the room, and smell emotions, though you'll need time to learn what each scent means. And don't worry about the other demons sensing your fear—they can't. Only you have these enhanced senses."
What? Only me?
"A little-known secret of the Demon King's body. Malverous kept his heightened senses hidden from everyone—a tactical advantage. No one knows your smell can detect their emotions or that you can hear their heartbeats. The previous king found it... useful for ruling."
The general—Kraxis—had risen slightly, one hand extended as if to catch him, concern evident in his amber eyes. Jin-ho could hear the general's heartbeat quicken slightly.
"Forgive me, my King. Your body must still be adjusting after the long sleep."
Jin-ho caught a new scent now—something bright and sharp, like citrus but with an underlying earthiness. It seemed to be emanating from Kraxis.
"Tell him you're fine. Act dignified. You're supposed to be terrifying, not terrified."
I don't know how to be terrifying! I've barely figured out how to sit up! And how do I tune out all these sounds and smells?
"Oh, this is going to be entertaining," the Demon God chuckled. "Just try not to look like you're about to faint. As for the senses, they'll calibrate with time. Think of it like adjusting the volume—focus on what you want to hear or smell."
"I am... fine," Jin-ho managed, attempting to straighten his posture. He tried to look the general in the eyes but found he couldn't maintain eye contact, his gaze dropping to the floor instead. His tail curled around his waist, the tip twitching nervously.
He tried to focus his hearing as the Demon God suggested, attempting to dampen the overwhelming cacophony of sounds—his own heartbeat, Kraxis's breathing, the subtle shift of dust motes disturbed by their movement.
Kraxis interpreted the averted gaze as dismissal and bowed deeper. The scent coming from him shifted again, now reminding Jin-ho of something metallic and cool.
"The chamber has been maintained exactly as you left it, my King. Though perhaps you would prefer to address your subjects from the throne room? The court has gathered in anticipation of your return."
His stomach lurched at the thought of facing a crowd. The idea of standing before a court of demons, all watching him, expecting him to speak... all those heartbeats, all those smells, all those eyes...
"N-no," he stammered, then cleared his throat when it came out weak. "No," he repeated more forcefully. "I require... time."
"Time to what? Have a complete breakdown? Your anxiety is practically radiating off you like a beacon. And that tail of yours might as well be a mood ring—it's thrashing like a caught fish. Also, you're emitting a scent like sour milk right now—that's fear in demon physiology. Lucky for you, the other demons can't smell it like you can."
Shut up! I can't think with you mocking me!
"Ooh, the little king has fangs after all," the Demon God replied, sounding delighted rather than offended.
"The Demon God has blessed us with your return," Kraxis continued, apparently taking his inner dialogue for regal contemplation. "The humans have grown weak. Their Goddess has abandoned them, and their magic has vanished. The time for our vengeance has come."
"As I explained during our little transition chat," the Demon God reminded him. "The humans must be eradicated, and you're going to lead that charge."
What? No! You mentioned protecting demons, not genocide!
"Semantics. Protection requires elimination of the threat. You'll get used to the idea."
"I... need time. To gather my strength." The words came out smoother than Jin-ho anticipated, his new voice naturally authoritative despite his internal panic.
Kraxis looked up, amber eyes studying him carefully. Jin-ho could see the subtle dilation of the general's pupils, the nearly imperceptible tension in his jaw. "Of course, my King. The resurrection of your physical form after so long would naturally require recovery." His gaze lingered a moment longer than seemed appropriate, a flicker of something—doubt?—crossing his features.
The scent changed again, acquiring a subtle bitterness that made Jin-ho's nose wrinkle.
"He thinks something's off about you. That bitter scent is suspicion. Quick, look angry! Demons respect anger."
How do I look angry on command?
"Just think about me. That seems to do the trick," the Demon God replied smugly.
Irritation flashed through Jin-ho at the taunt, and his tail suddenly snapped outward, smashing into a wall sconce. Kraxis immediately lowered his gaze, posture becoming more submissive. The scent of suspicion faded, replaced by the metallic odor from before.
"Forgive my impertinence, my King."
"See? Your frustration with me makes you look appropriately menacing to them. We make a good team. And that tail is going to be our secret weapon—it betrays your emotions even when your face doesn't. The metallic smell is respect, by the way. You'll learn to recognize them all eventually."
We're not a team. I still don't understand anything that's happening!
"Details, details. You're Malverous now, the great Demon King, betrayed by his human queen and returned to lead demonkind to its rightful place."
The name meant nothing to Jin-ho, yet it seemed to settle into his consciousness like a weight.
"Help me rise, Kraxis," he commanded, deciding action was better than continued confusion. As the General extended an arm, he hesitated, unsure if he should take it. He could hear the subtle shift in Kraxis's breathing, the slight acceleration of his heartbeat.
"Just do it already. Your awkwardness is physically painful to watch, and I'm a non-corporeal entity."
He grabbed Kraxis's arm more forcefully than intended, causing the general to stumble slightly. As he rose from the altar, he became aware of his true size—towering over even the tall General. His body moved with a fluid grace that belied its massive proportions, though he felt anything but graceful inside. His tail dragged heavily behind him, occasionally catching on the rough stone floor.
He tried to take a step forward but misjudged the length of his new legs, nearly colliding with a ceremonial brazier. His tail shot out instinctively to balance him, knocking over a row of ancient-looking artifacts in the process. The crash was deafening to his sensitive ears, making him wince.
"I brought back the mighty Demon King, and he can't even walk properly. The irony is exquisite."
I didn't ask for this! he snapped internally.
"No, but you've got it anyway. Try not to destroy anything important while you figure out those feet. And maybe tuck that tail somewhere before you demolish the entire royal treasury. Also, try to focus on dampening your hearing when loud noises happen—it's a skill you'll need to develop."
"Word of your awakening has already spread throughout the citadel." Kraxis said, diplomatically ignoring his stumble and the destruction caused by his tail.
His tail curled tightly around one leg, the barbed tip digging slightly into the stone floor. He could smell his own scent changing—becoming sharper, more acrid.
"Tell him you will address the court tomorrow. You require solitude to commune with me and restore your full powers. That should buy you some time to stop acting like a newborn fawn with an extra limb you can't control and senses that overwhelm you."
For once grateful for the suggestion, Jin-ho repeated the instruction to Kraxis, who nodded with reverence. The general's scent shifted again—more metallic, with undertones of something like warm spices.
"As you command. I shall guide you to your royal chambers." Kraxis hesitated. "They have remained untouched since... since that day."
A flash of memory struck him—not his own, but vivid nonetheless. A beautiful woman with golden hair, smiling tenderly one moment, her face twisting with hatred the next. A blade gleaming in candlelight. Pain. Betrayal.
He gasped, clutching his chest where phantom pain blossomed. His tail thrashed violently, sweeping across a shelf of ancient scrolls and sending them cascading to the floor. The sound was like an avalanche to his ears.
"My King?" Kraxis stepped forward with concern. Jin-ho could hear the general's heartbeat quicken, could smell a new scent—something like burnt sugar.
"It's nothing," he managed, waving away the general's concern but accidentally swiping too broadly with his unfamiliar arm, knocking over a small table of artifacts. Ancient-looking objects clattered to the stone floor, creating even more chaos alongside the scattered scrolls. The noise was excruciating to his sensitive ears.
"Smooth. Very regal," the Demon God commented dryly. "Between your arms and that tail, I'm not sure there will be any relics left by morning. And you might want to focus on dampening your hearing before you give yourself a headache."
This is YOUR fault! You put me in this—this BODY I don't know how to use! With appendages you didn't even mention! And senses that are driving me insane!
"Are you always this whiny? No wonder you were alone in your previous life. And let's be honest, the tail is an improvement over your human form. At least this body has muscle definition. And the enhanced senses will be invaluable once you learn to control them."
The comment stung more than Jin-ho wanted to admit. He felt his face contort with anger, and his tail whipped upward, coiling like a serpent ready to strike. Kraxis immediately dropped to one knee again, the scent of burnt sugar intensifying.
"Forgive the intrusion, my King. The memory of her betrayal remains strong, even after resurrection. Your love for the Human Queen was legendary, as was her treachery."
"Remnants of Malverous's soul remain within you," the Demon God explained. "His memories will surface occasionally. Useful for maintaining your cover, though I must say your natural awkwardness is doing wonders for your intimidation factor. They think you're seething with rage rather than just trying to figure out how not to trip over your own tail. And that burnt sugar smell? That's fear. You're terrifying him without even trying."
"Leave me," Jin-ho commanded Kraxis, needing space to think. "I will call for you when I am ready to go to my chambers."
Chambers sounds so weird to say instead of bedroom. I'm just thankful I played lots of videos games. Jin-ho thought.
"Well, I guess we are lucky you didn't have a life." The Demon God commented, a bit too cheerfully.
The General bowed deeply. "As you wish, my King." He retreated to the chamber entrance but paused. "The Demon God has blessed us with your return. Our suffering will soon end." With that, he departed, closing heavy doors behind him.
Jin-ho could hear the general's footsteps retreating down the hallway, could hear his gradually slowing heartbeat until it faded from range. He could smell the lingering scent of fear mixed with respect, slowly dissipating in the air.
Once alone, he let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, which came out as a plume of dark smoke. His tail finally relaxed, drooping limply behind him.
"Oh! You're discovering your abilities. That's faster than I expected."
What is happening to me? he thought, watching the smoke dissipate.
"You're becoming what you were meant to be. Well, what MALVEROUS was meant to be. You're just the passenger. Though I must say, you've mastered the 'destroy priceless artifacts with unexpected tail movements' technique remarkably quickly. Your sensory adaptation is coming along too—you tracked Kraxis's heartbeat until it was out of range without even realizing it."
He examined his new form more carefully. His skin was deep crimson with intricate black markings that seemed to shift subtly when he moved. Massive muscles rippled beneath the surface. He wore only a simple black cloth around his waist, leaving his chest bare. The tail extended from just above his tailbone, thick and powerful, tapering to a barbed point.
Carefully moving his feet, trying not to knock anything else over, he found a reflective surface on one wall and approached it. The figure staring back was both majestic and terrifying.
Golden eyes with vertical pupils glowed in a face of striking, harsh beauty. He could see every pore, every scale, every minor detail of his new face with perfect clarity. Curved horns extended from his temples, elegant and sharp. His hair was black as night, flowing well past his shoulders and woven into an intricate braid that reached the middle of his back. When he opened his mouth, gleaming fangs were visible, polished to a perfect sheen. He turned slightly to observe the tail, which now swayed gently behind him.
He was surprised by how immaculately maintained the body was, despite being preserved for five centuries. His skin was clean, his fangs gleaming, his long braided hair glossy and well-groomed. Someone had clearly been caring for this body with meticulous attention.
"Your loyal subjects have maintained your vessel for centuries," the Demon God commented, sensing his surprise. "Every day for five hundred years, attendants have bathed your body, brushed those fangs, and tended to that magnificent hair. Devotion bordering on reverence. Touching, really."
He reached up to touch his face, still not believing the reflection was him.
"What has happened to me?" he whispered to his reflection.
"I gave you an upgrade," the Demon God responded cheerfully. "From socially awkward nobody to all-powerful demon royalty. You're welcome. The tail was just a bonus feature. Think of it as a performance indicator—it betrays your emotions even when your face doesn't. And those enhanced senses? They'll make you nearly omniscient within your domain once you learn to use them. A secret advantage the previous king utilized to great effect. No other demon can hear or see or smell what you can."
"But who am I supposed to be now?" he asked aloud, his powerful voice echoing in the chamber, the sound almost painful to his own ears.
"You were nobody. Now you're a king. I'd call that a substantial promotion. Even with the unwieldy fifth limb and the sensory overload you're currently experiencing."
He turned from the reflection, anxiety building within him. As his emotions surged, he noticed the shadows in the room responding, writhing like living things. His tail began to glow faintly along the black markings that spiraled around it. He could smell his own scent changing—becoming sharper, more acrid.
"Easy there! Control yourself!" the Demon God cautioned, suddenly serious. "Your power is tied to your emotions. Unrestrained, you could bring this mountain down around us. And your tail is basically a magical conductor—it amplifies your powers when agitated. That scent you're emitting is pure anxiety—it would send lesser demons fleeing in terror if they could smell it, but they can't. Your special senses are yours alone, a secret weapon the previous king never revealed to anyone."
I don't know how to control powers I didn't know I had five minutes ago! he thought frantically, watching as the shadows began to creep up the walls. His tail now glowed brightly, whipping back and forth in agitation. He could hear the subtle whisper of shadows moving, could smell the faint ozone scent of magic activating.
"Take a deep breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Just like managing a panic attack. I imagine you've had plenty of practice with those. Focus on a single sense at a time. Tune out the others."
The jab hit home, but the advice was sound. He drew in a deep breath, holding it before slowly exhaling. The shadows gradually receded, returning to normal. His tail's glow dimmed, and it settled into a gentler swaying motion. He focused on his hearing, mentally turning down the volume until the ambient sounds of the chamber became manageable.
"Better. We'll make a king of you yet. Maybe. Possibly. Let's call it a work in progress. First order of business might be tail control exercises and sensory calibration."
He sat down heavily on a stone bench, which cracked slightly under his weight. His tail curled around the bench leg, as if anchoring him in place. He could hear the stone fracturing, the sound like lightning in his sensitive ears.
"Careful with the furniture. That bench is older than most human civilizations."
"Why me?" he asked aloud, ignoring the comment about the bench. "You explained your world's situation, but why choose someone so... unsuited for this?"
"Why not you? You were available, malleable, and had remarkably few attachments. Perfect vessel material. Besides, I needed someone who understands what it's like to be overlooked, underestimated. Someone who knows what it means to be an outsider. And frankly, your social awkwardness paired with this intimidating body creates an unintentionally perfect demonic ruler. When you're too anxious to speak, they think you're contemplating their doom. When you avoid eye contact, they think you're dismissing them. Those enhanced senses will let you detect lies, track enemies, and anticipate attacks—once you learn to interpret what they tell you."
He didn't respond, unsure if that was a compliment or another jab. His tail twitched in irritation. He could smell his own scent changing again—becoming muskier, heavier.
"Tomorrow you will address your subjects," the Demon God continued. "They have waited five centuries for your return. They expect their great king—ruthless, powerful, commanding."
"I can't speak to a crowd," he protested. "I can barely speak to one person! And now I'll hear every cough, smell every emotion, see every facial twitch..."
"And yet, here you are, arguing with a God. Character development already! Though I suggest practicing tail control before addressing the court. Nothing undermines a dramatic speech quite like accidentally impaling your advisors with a nervous tail twitch. As for the senses, consider them an advantage—you'll know exactly how your words affect them. And they'll never suspect you have this ability. Your predecessor kept it secret, using it to determine who was loyal and who was plotting against him."
He growled in frustration, and nearby shadows flickered in response. His tail rose up, the barbed tip gleaming dangerously in the torchlight. He could smell his own anger—like hot metal and smoke.
"Your social anxiety is actually an asset," the Demon God mused. "When you clam up, they think you're being mysteriously powerful. When you're internally panicking, you look menacing. When you avoid eye contact, they think you're dismissive of their worth. It's perfect! And that tail of yours adds just the right touch of menace when you're actually just socially petrified. Your enhanced senses will let you monitor reactions without having to make eye contact—a socially anxious person's dream."
"Perfect? I feel like I'm going to throw up. I can literally hear my own digestion."
"Do NOT throw up. Demon Kings don't vomit from nervousness. It's in the rulebook. And try focusing your hearing elsewhere—like on your own heartbeat. It's a good centering technique."
Despite himself, Jin-ho almost smiled. "There's a rulebook?"
"No, but if there were, that would definitely be rule number one. Followed closely by 'Don't trip over your own tail while trying to look intimidating' and 'Don't mention that you can smell everyone's emotions.'"
He sighed heavily, the sound rumbling like distant thunder in his new chest. His tail drooped, the tip tracing patterns in the dust on the floor. He focused his hearing as suggested, tuning in to the steady rhythm of his own heartbeat.
"So dramatic," the Demon God commented. "We have much to discuss, you and I. Five centuries of history to recount. A war to plan. A world to reshape. And apparently basic motor skills to develop, including 'Tail Management 101' and 'How Not to Be Overwhelmed by Supernatural Senses.'"
As he sat in the dim chamber, surrounded by ancient stone and flickering shadows, one thought crystallized with perfect clarity: whatever he had been before, his life had irrevocably changed. In this new existence, he would either master his role or be destroyed by it.
And the voice in his head—the voice of what called itself the Demon God—seemed to have no intention of leaving him in peace to figure it out.
"Indeed not," the Demon God confirmed, responding to his thoughts. "I get lonely. And you, my reluctant king, are the best entertainment I've had in centuries. Especially watching you try to coordinate that tail while looking dignified with those supersensitive ears twitching at every sound."
He groaned, burying his face in his hands, accidentally scratching his forehead with his own claws. Behind him, his tail knocked over yet another ancient artifact, the sound of breaking pottery echoing through the chamber like a thunderclap to his sensitive ears.
It was going to be a very long night.