Dragon King: Throne of Demons and Gods
Chapter 70: The Forbidden Gift

Chapter 70: The Forbidden Gift

The cave fell into a heavy silence.

Vezalia stood still, her umbrella pointed at Bel like a quiet accusation. The purple flames around her flickered gently, casting dancing shadows on the ice.

Bel didn’t answer.

He stared at her, his expression unreadable. Inside, his thoughts were crumbling.

For the second time since this meeting began, he had no words.

"A demon?" he thought. "I was living like a demon?"

It didn’t make sense. Humans killed too. Adventurers did it all the time. Knights, hunters. Everyone.

Killing alone didn’t make you a demon.

But then he flinched.

His race.

He wasn’t human, but a dragon.

Something monstrous. He had always chased that instinct, always longed to live by it. The hunger, the battles, the growing power... Was that it?

If a dragon was a form of demon, wasn’t he... already one of them?

He looked down at his hands. Hands that had torn through monsters like they were paper. Hands that fed on glowing cores. Hands that no longer trembled.

The truth Vezalia spoke rattled something deep inside him.

She slowly lowered her umbrella, her gaze never leaving his.

"The only reason you feel fine about it," she said softly, "is because your menu hasn’t changed. You’re eating demons, so you feel justified. You’re surrounded by humans, so you feel safe."

She turned slightly, her steps slow and measured.

"But the moment you eat a human..."

Her eyes narrowed.

"One strong enough to match the minions you’ve grown used to..."

She marked a long pause.

"Your whole facade will crumble."

Silence again.

The flames dimmed.

Bel stood still, stunned. Not by fear. But by the weight of her words.

He hadn’t expected this. He had hoped for answers, direction... maybe even some peace of mind.

But all he found was a darker reflection of himself.

He remembered his past self. A simple boy in a cold village.

He used to think freedom meant running through the fields, or sitting by the fire, or eating warm bread. The quiet of the forest, the silence of the night.

But now...

He remembered the cracked hands. The frozen mornings. The beatings from his master.

The hunger. The helplessness. The worthless hours of hard labor. The days spent in silence because speaking had no point.

Was that life?

Was that him?

He frowned and pressed a hand to his head, trying to clear the fog of thoughts. Was his life really so pathetic that power became his only interest?

As he struggled, Vezalia watched him. Then, a small smile tugged at her lips.

"You’ve grown," she said, her voice returning to its gentle melody. "Stronger than the last time. Fiercer. More complete. You’re living up to your name... Lord Ravager."

She stepped closer, umbrella gently dragging against the ice.

"You’re the ace that will change everything."

Her voice became lower.

"So don’t forget who you are. Or where you come from. You’re not human. You never were. You’re a demon. And humans..."

She paused, her eyes hardening.

"Humans are filled with malice. Once, they tricked a Demon Lord into thinking he could side with them. That he could be one of their so-called ’allies’."

Her lips curled bitterly.

"But a demon is a demon and humans are the creatures with the strongest power of pointing out differences. They murdered him. Slaughtered the strongest of our Lords the moment his guard was down."

She turned away slightly, then looked back over her shoulder.

"Don’t make the same mistake. Don’t trust them. Not ever."

Her words hung in the air like frost, slowly wrapping around Bel’s heart.

A deep silence wrapped the frozen ruin.

The purple fire dimmed. Nothing moved.

Vezalia stood still, watching Bel. For a moment, she seemed thoughtful, even unsure. Then her eyes widened slightly, and she bowed her head just a little, as if hiding a smile.

"Lord Ravager," she whispered. "Don’t forget the second half of our date."

Bel snapped back to reality. Vezalia raised her head, the playful glint returning to her expression.

"I promised you two gifts. One to tempting, and one you will need."

She stepped forward, the ice beneath her heels chiming softly with each step.

"Please take them," she said, her tone softening. "As a welcome gift. From a General of Lord Devourer to the Eighth Lord."

She paused, eyes flickering, then, in an unexpected move, she bowed deeply.

"And..." she added, voice barely above a whisper. "Please... don’t betray us."

Bel blinked. His expression tightened slightly. The way she said it. Like she was afraid.

"You’re really insistent about this," he muttered.

Vezalia straightened, a nervous laugh escaping her lips. A bead of sweat ran down her temple.

"It’s a gamble," she admitted. "You’re full of doubt. And this... this is not something you give lightly, especially since I saw your power at a general level."

She turned to the side, and slowly let go of her umbrella. It didn’t fall to the ground.

It vanished into the air, swallowed by the void.

Then, raising both hands, she brought them forward. Her palms glowed with violet light.

Purple flames burst, swirling around her fingers like living snakes.

And slowly... the fire peeled away.

In her left hand: a dark orb, crisscrossed with pulsing purple veins, beating like a heart.

In her right: a glowing orb of twilight gold and icy silver. It shimmered softly, like a fading star.

"This one," she said, raising the black orb, "is the Forbidden Fruit. A treasure of the Underworld."

The pulse quickened. Bel felt it. Like something was reacting.

"After the birth of each Demon Lord, a fruit grows somewhere in the demon realm," Vezalia explained. "It carries the essence of that Lord. Their soul. Their truth."

She gazed into the heart of the orb.

"If the fruit is consumed by the wrong being, it devours them instead. Their body, their soul... all swallowed. The fruit survives. It blooms again, elsewhere. Waiting for its rightful owner."

She looked at him.

"Seven fruits were claimed. Devoured by their rightful owners. But this one? It perdured... For centuries."

A smile curled her lips.

"Because its owner hadn’t been born yet."

Bel didn’t move. His breath slowed.

This was no simple gift. This was a game-changing key. A cornerstone to something much bigger.

This fruit pulsed like it had a heartbeat of its own, calling out to him in a way that felt... intimate.

Bel felt it deep in his bones, the way its presence tugged at his core, like a magnet pulling him closer.

Yet his eyes narrowed.

This wasn’t something he could just take lightly. If he wasn’t the rightful owner, the fruit would kill him and vanish into the underworld to await another chance.

It was a high-stakes gamble with only one outcome.

But the feeling... it was undeniable. The way the orb responded to his presence, the way it pulsed faster in Vezalia’s hand, it was like it recognized him.

And then there was Vezalia herself. For once, she wasn’t teasing.

Bel’s heightened senses picked up the tremble in her voice, the sweat on her temple, the anxious tightness in her stance.

She wasn’t faking it. She was genuinely afraid.

Not for herself, but because of him.

Because it was her gamble. If he still decided to stay with the humans, she would lose her candidate to the throne.

The humans had won once. They had slain the Demon King, so the last thing she needed was losing a powerful candidate.

Vezalia’s gaze turned to the second orb.

"Now," she said softly, "let me tell you about the second gift."

The orb pulsed in her hand, softer than the black one.

"This," she continued, "is the tempting gift."

Bel’s eyes flicked toward it, cautious.

"It is the most glorious treasure of the demon realm... and yet the most useless. A trophy, nothing more."

The silver light shimmered across the icy walls of the ruin, reflecting off the frozen stone like a thousand tiny stars.

"Once," Vezalia said, "it was the magic core of a Sacred."

Bel frowned.

"Sacreds?"

She nodded.

"Yes, one of the hero’s companion. Their most powerful trait is the divine gift, a blessing no demon could replicate. This orb? It contains what remained when one of them fell."

Her eyes shimmered.

"To us, it’s... beautiful. But mostly meaningless. Our bodies reject it."

"Then why give it to me?"

Vezalia smiled.

"Because you... you are different."

Bel stared.

She continued, voice lighter now, like telling a child a secret.

"It’s not as valuable as the forbidden fruit. Not even close. But it’s tempting, isn’t it? A Sacred core? For someone who gets stronger by devouring cores?" She tilted her head. "Perhaps, if you consume it... your power might evolve. Perhaps not. But isn’t it worth a try?"

Bel squinted, suspicious.

"How do you even know I get stronger like that?"

She chuckled.

"I serve the Lord Devourer. I know the purpose of a feeder when I see one. And as for the gifts... one is necessary. The other is temptation. That was the deal."

She bowed her head.

"I want you to find the answer yourself. And to do that, you must eat it."

Bel fell silent. He stared at both orbs.

One beating like a heart of a demon, the other glowing like a tear from heaven.

Then he sighed and took them both, they pulsed in his hands, one hot, one cold.

He turned his eyes to her.

She had lowered her head again, this time in a quiet bow.

"If this works," he said slowly, "and I truly become a demon lord... what happens then?"

She raised her head. Her expression calm.

"You are already a demon lord. But if you mean discovering your nature?" She curtsied deeply. "Then I cannot answer. You will shape it yourself. A Lord does not follow the opinion of a General."

Bel narrowed his eyes.

"I’m still part of the human world. I still hunt demons. That’s the only thing keeping me on my feet, so I don’t think it will change."

She paused, then slowly, she raised her gaze to meet his.

"And if a demon kills a human? Would you feel anger?"

Bel looked down at the white orb. His fingers tightened slightly.

Then he whispered.

"I don’t know."

Vezalia stood up. She watched him for a moment, unreadable.

Then she smiled.

The air thickened around her. Heat rising up in slow waves.

"Then do as you please," she said lightly. "I’ll let it slide since you’re lost."

Flames circled her feet. A pentagram formed beneath her.

"If my words can’t move you, perhaps being near them longer will help. I trust them for that."

The fire grew higher, licking up her legs.

"But be strong, Lord Ravager," she whispered. "Strong enough to assume the consequences of your choice when they’ll show you their true colors. I believe in you... And in that group."

She glanced at his hands.

"That grip on these orbs... it’s the grip of a predator who will kill to keep what he’s claimed. This comfort me enough in your ability to choose the correct faction."

The flames swallowed her.

She vanished, and the ruin fell silent once more.