Demon Lord reborn as The Hero's Child

Kōya sighed, sheathing his sword. “Don’t start.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything.”

“You definitely were.”

“I absolutely was.”

Kōya shook his head, running a hand through his hair.

The exhausted adventurers slowly gathered around them in the mud. The heavy shield bearer, nursing a bruised shoulder, was the first to speak. “Thank you. We were dead.”

Kōya calmly wiped the remaining blood from his blade with a cloth. “You’re welcome.”

The swordsman looked over Kōya’s shoulder directly at Lyra. “You helped too.”

Lyra seemed genuinely surprised by the acknowledgment. “I did?”

“You blinded it at the perfect moment. Saved our lives.”

“Oh.”

Kōya looked down at her. “You did.”

Lyra smiled, a bright, proud expression.

The exhausted mage cautiously approached Lyra, leaning on her staff. “What specific spell classification was that?”

Lyra hesitated, looking at her empty hands. “I honestly don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“I just…” She looked up, slightly embarrassed. “I just wanted to help, and it came out.”

The mage stared at her in sheer disbelief. “You have never trained formally?”

“Not properly. No.”

The adventurer looked suspiciously at Kōya. “Where exactly did you find her?”

Kōya frowned deeply, his aura shifting. “Find her?”

The man immediately realized his mistake. “Sorry. Poor choice of words.”

Lyra looked away, her smile fading.

Kōya’s expression hardened into stone. “She is traveling with me as an equal.”

The man nodded quickly, raising his hands in surrender. “Understood. No offense meant.”

The man asked no more questions. Kōya appreciated the immediate compliance.

The weary adventurers began tending to their critically injured companion on the ground. The shield bearer eventually returned to where Kōya and Lyra stood. “You two are headed east?”

“Yes.”

“Toward the major trade roads?”

“Eventually.”

The adventurer pointed a gauntleted finger toward the distant mountains. “Then you’re going exactly the right way.”

Kōya listened carefully to the local intelligence.

“There are two major towns ahead on this route. The southern one is mostly corrupt merchants and black markets. The northern one is significantly safer. It has an official Guild branch and vastly better adventurer supplies.”

“How far is the northern town?”

“A solid two days walk if you keep moving.”

Kōya looked back at Lyra.

She nodded. “That’s the one we should use.”

The adventurer continued. “You can buy proper equipment there. Weapons, decent armor, warm clothing, standard magic supplies.”

Kōya looked critically down at Lyra’s clothes. Torn. Worn thin. Muddy. Barely suitable for surviving the coming winter in the mountains.

He frowned.

Lyra immediately noticed the look. “What?”

“Nothing.”

She looked down at herself. Then back up at his critical face. “I know.”

“You desperately need new clothes.”

“I am fine.”

“No, you are not.”

“I’m completely fine, Kōya.”

“Lyra, you are wearing clothing that looks like it barely survived a brutal war.”

Lyra looked him dead in the eye. “It literally did survive a war.”

Kōya stopped entirely.

That was a fair point.

The nearby adventurers actually laughed at the exchange. Even Lyra smiled despite herself.

The shield bearer pointed back toward the northern road. “There’s also a major Guild branch there. If you’re planning to officially travel farther east, you can properly register yourselves. Especially if you’re going anywhere near the actual Demon-controlled territory.”

Kōya’s expression instantly changed. “What exactly do you know about that specific region?”

The adventurer became noticeably more serious, lowering his voice. “The farther east you go, the more complicated and dangerous things become. Roads aren’t simply safe, patrolled roads anymore out there.” He pointed a trembling finger toward the distant, dark mountains. “Some major routes are heavily controlled by paranoid human kingdoms. Some by entirely independent, brutal settlements. Some pass directly through territories strictly controlled by the Demon Lords.”

“Can ordinary, unregistered travelers enter those zones?”

“Some specific places. For a heavy toll. You need official papers and Guild marks in certain key regions.”

Kōya vividly remembered Lyra’s earlier tactical explanation about the checkpoints. “And if you don’t have the proper papers?”

“You get aggressively questioned. By mercenary guards. Corrupt traders. Territory officials.” The adventurer hesitated, a dark shadow crossing his face. “Sometimes professional slave traders.”

Kōya’s expression hardened into pure, glacial murder.

The adventurer noticed the sudden, terrifying drop in temperature. “You’ve personally encountered them?”

Kōya didn’t bother to answer.

The man understood the silence perfectly. “Then you should be careful out there. Both of you.” He pointed firmly toward the northern road again. “Get proper, forged documents before you head any farther east into the dark.”

Kōya nodded once. “Thank you for the intelligence.”

The adventurers finally prepared to leave the clearing, carrying their wounded companion on a makeshift stretcher. Before they left, the tired mage approached Lyra one last time.

“You have massive raw potential, girl.”

Lyra blinked in surprise. “Me?”

“Yes.” The mage smiled warmly. “You don’t have any proper magical technique yet. But the ambient mana responded quickly to your intent.”

Lyra looked down at her hands, turning them over. “I don’t really know much about how magic actually works.”

“Then you should learn.”

The mage reached into her robes and handed Lyra a small, crumpled piece of parchment with an address on it. “There are decent, basic magic books sold at an apothecary in the northern town. Go there.”

Lyra accepted the paper carefully. “Thank you.”

Kōya watched the entire exchange quietly from the shadows. Something about the interaction profoundly pleased him. Not simply because Lyra needed to become tactically stronger for his own sake on the battlefield. Because she seemed genuinely interested in something other than mere survival.

The battered adventurers eventually left the clearing, disappearing into the trees.

Kōya watched them go until they were completely out of sight. Then he looked back at Lyra.

“You genuinely want to learn offensive magic.”

Lyra looked down at the crumpled paper in her hand. “Maybe.”

“You absolutely should.”

She looked up at him, surprised. “You don’t mind the distraction?”

“Why would I possibly mind?”

“I don’t know. It might slow us down.”

Kōya looked toward the muddy road ahead. “You actively helped in that fight just now.”

“I almost fell face-first in the mud.”

“You still helped turn the tide.”

Lyra smiled, a genuinely proud expression. “Then I will learn.”

Kōya nodded.

They began walking again, putting miles behind them. The sun was rapidly beginning to set, casting long shadows across the path. They stopped to rest beside a small, rushing stream.

Kōya sat down heavily on a large rock, unbuckling his sword harness.

Lyra sat quietly on the grass beside him. She looked intently at the piece of paper the mage had given her. “The northern town,” she said softly.

Kōya nodded, drinking from his canteen. “That’s exactly where we are going tomorrow.”

“We desperately need warm clothes.”

“Yes.”

“More traveling food.”

“Yes.”

“Basic magic books.”

“Yes.”

“Maybe a training wand.”

Kōya stopped drinking and looked at her. “A wand?”

“That’s exactly what proper mages use.”

“Do you even know how to properly hold a wand?”

“No.”

“Then why buy an expensive one?”

“Because I desperately want to learn how to use one.”

Kōya considered her logic. “Fine.”

Lyra smiled brilliantly. Then, she looked past him, toward the dark eastern horizon. “And then?” she asked, her voice dropping.

Kōya knew exactly what she meant. “Then we continue east.”

“Toward your mother.”

“Yes.”

Lyra simply nodded. She didn’t ask a single other question about the impending war.

The two sat quietly by the rushing water for a long while, watching the sunset.

Kōya looked at the dark road stretching ahead of them.

The brief, violent encounter with the adventurers in the woods had been relatively small. Almost tactically insignificant compared to the apocalyptic duel with Zeref. But it was exactly what his fractured mind had needed. A smaller, manageable battle. A sharp reminder that he absolutely couldn’t simply unleash overwhelming, world-ending power every single time he drew a blade. A practical chance for Lyra to bravely test her latent magic in a live combat scenario. A logical reason to visit a proper, fortified town.

And perhaps, for the very first time in his lonely life, a tiny glimpse of what actively traveling the world with someone could actually mean.

Kōya finally stood up, brushing the dirt from his coat. “We should go find shelter.”

Lyra stood up too, tucking the paper safely into her torn pocket. “Tomorrow.”

Kōya nodded.

They began walking together toward the northern road, following the fading light. Far behind them, the rescued adventurers were already disappearing completely into the distance.

Ahead of them waited a bustling town. Clean clothes. Forged weapons. Magic supplies. A Guild branch.

And perhaps, if they were lucky, some hard answers about the dangerous roads leading significantly deeper into the dark east.

Kōya looked toward the jagged, imposing mountains on the horizon. Somewhere far beyond them was the massive, terrifying territory he had witnessed inside Zeref’s fragmented memories. The fortified place where Mizuki had been brutally taken in chains.

He still didn’t definitively know its political name. But now he had a solid, tactical direction.

And for the very first time in his life, he wasn’t blindly walking toward the apocalypse alone.