Imp to Demon King: A Journey of Conquest

"I trust Maven, but I haven’t ruled out a potential shift in allegiance." Ifrit’s eyes narrowed into sharp slits, his voice growing somber. "Trust me, Bart, it’s not something I would want to do. But if he really became one of them, I’ll judge him like I judged deserters and traitors on the spot—death by immolation."

Jaw clenched, praying they were mistaken, Bart scrutinised Bahamut as he turned more humans or intelligent species into draconians. Ifrit was right. They would have to kill Maven if he betrayed them.

Not out of anger, or even principle—because they couldn’t let Adam know. More than anyone, he trusted the kobold, so much that he sent them to fetch him. To learn that Maven had switched sides after his ten-year banishment would break his already scarred heart.

"He died infiltrating the enemy. That’s what we’ll say if he betrayed us." Bart’s heart drummed in his ears, throbbing against his ribs once the turn of the short, masked individual approached.

However, Ifrit snorted. "A protective lie, but a lie nonetheless. Do you think it’ll please him? No, Bart. Maven can do whatever he wants, and he’ll face the consequences for his actions. Adam will understand." He sighed. "At least, we won’t create an imaginary enemy he needs to take revenge on."

Bart remained silent, his eyes locked on the short figure as Bahamut gripped the mask. With a gasp, he saw a face, scarred, burned, and covered in purulent blisters—a sight of horror that compelled his palms to move over his children’s eyes.

The crowd scrunched its nose, whispers of disgust spreading across the plaza as the individual lowered his face to hide it.

Bahamut himself raised a brow before hiding his surprise. He raised the individual’s disfigured face, meeting the golden eyes hidden behind swelled brows. A soft smile curved his lips, his soothing voice echoing.

"Scars earned in the pursuit of justice are marks of honor. Though the world may see a kobold, I see the spirit of your ancestors—unyielding, heroic. Tell me your name once more, so the empire remembers it."

"Maverick." Maverick’s voice cracked slightly. "I can’t express how much your recognition matters to me." He closed his eyes, his voice barely a whisper. Then, he reopened them, his voice thundering with unbending will. "My life for the dragon empire! My life for order!"

Bahamut nodded but lingered for a moment before his eyes narrowed. "But even heroes aren’t immune to darkness. I feel it roiling like a contained river. Tell me, Maverick, against whom is it directed?"

A brief silence settled before Maverick broke it with a heavy sigh. "My tribe... my father, the friends I used to play with, the girls I’ve had feelings for... were corrupted—enslaved by a demon. I was weak, but I survived by a miracle." His lips twisted, and his voice grew forceful. "That’s why I swore to become powerful enough to avenge them. I-I’m sorry." He turned, taking a step to leave. "I shouldn’t taint our order’s radiance with my darkness."

Bahamut exchanged a glance with Maxwell, both grinning.

"Wait!" Maverick stopped, and Bahamut continued. "You might not notice it, but your story serves you much more than you can imagine. You’ve resisted corruption when all others embraced their darkest desires. You didn’t let despair shackle you and took arms for what was right."

Maxwell nodded, his words as much for the crowd and nobles as for Maven. "I’m sorry for your losses and that you had to remember such a tragic story. But, at the same time, I respect your resistance. You’re an example of the unyielding spirit I want everyone to develop." He waved his palm in a broad arc. "Speak the name of your enemy, Maverick. I promise the empire will help you on your revenge."

Maverick turned to face them, his lips curling into a broad smile. "Baal."

The single name reverberated on the plaza louder than even Bahamut’s descent. Maxwell stepped back, cursing, and the crowd instinctively covered their ears. This was not a name they wanted to hear. Not him, not any of the horrible demon kings.

Even Bahamut’s divine facade cracked. His eyes widened, and his mouth dropped slightly. Dense wisps of energy wafted from his body, a heavy pressure descending on the palace. Confronted with his draconic might, the already terrified citizens dropped to their knees, clutching their throats, gasping for breath.

Then, everything vanished, replaced by a thunderous laugh.

"Hahaha! Baal, just him? You’ll need to be a little more than a draconian, then." Bahamut approached Maverick under everyone’s wide eyes. "I’ll awaken your dormant bloodline. What you’ll become will depend on its purity." He grinned. "I’m impatient to discover which dragon’s lineage birthed such a courageous kobold."

Maverick watched as the dragon god’s glowing palm passed over his face. Instantly, his blood stirred with ancient powers. Guttural whispers filled his ears, each word spoken a true name—the oldest form of magic.

Clutching his chest, he dropped to his knees, his breathing coming out ragged as veins pulsed beneath his smooth skin like snakes. A wave of pain crashed on his nerves, scalding his organs and marrow.

Bones cracked and joints popped, growing like wild vines that stretched his squirming muscles. From half a man’s size, he turned into a trembling mountain of grotesque flesh. But that was just the beginning.

Like enchanted steel cables, his muscles firmed, and his skin solidified into thick scales. They shone a soft copper, reflecting the sunlight as his tail erupted from his rear. Unable to keep the pain in, he let out a draconic roar that froze the onlookers as two draconic wings shot from his back and unfurled. The leathery membranes bloated the sun, before their small twitch sent angry gales ruffling Bart’s hair.

Eyes wide, he turned to Ifrit, who just watched with a smirk. "Y-You knew?"

Ifrit shrugged. "Maven always had that kobold pride—you know how they are about their bloodline. He refused Tiamat’s help, said he’d rather die than let chaos ’taint’ his ancestors’ legacy." A grin spread across his face. "Maven showed great interest in this empire between two arrests, so yes, I guessed he would have tried his luck here."

Bart’s breath caught as the kobold—no, the dragon—unfurled wings that blotted out the sun. His hand instinctively went to his children’s shoulders, as if Maven’s very presence might scorch them. "I can’t believe he did it... He’s a true dragon now." fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓

"He is. Seems like you’re the weakest now, my dear little oni." Ifrit’s smile vanished. "Shall we see how long he’ll enjoy his new form? Betrayal or wisdom. I can’t wait."