Dark Descendant

In the Magic Realm, mana exists as the main component of life. Those born with it are called magic users and they are capable of controlling the godly power known as magic. For centuries, the human race has fought against the demons, a powerful and gruesome race that was born from the Dark Realm; and with the help of the gods, the human magic users were granted gifts known as skills that played a huge role in those wars against the demons. Ash was a product of the first war. And after being discovered as a half-demon, he is killed by a silver-haired mage who held the power of the sky in her hand. But thanks to a twist in fate, he is reincarnated as Arthur Bellrock, an orphaned weak magic user with a brilliant mind and the ability to use incantationless magic. With this second chance, he intends to break through the obstacles in this new life and acquire the power to even defy the gods in order to continue having these luxuries and possibly have his revenge someday. But power comes with a price…. PS: the cover is not mine

PhillipCarlos · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
229 Chs

The Half Demon

With his hands bound to the cross by the magic lassos the mages had created, he flooded his mind with thoughts in hope that it helps with the pain. Under the starry night sky, Ash cried so loud that the heavens could hear his call for help as the village folk continued to burn him alive with the help of magic flames that burned so painfully.

Rocks and curse words flew at him from every direction as they struck his body and dying heart even more. He was trying so hard to hold the pain— but he didn't receive a single look of empathy from the human crowd that had gathered around him.

All he was receiving was disgust and pure hostility for what he was: a half-breed demon.

A few days ago, Ash had been captured by a mage after saving the life of a young child from a demon that had infiltrated the village as a merchant. The fight against the evil demon forced him to use his powers and hence he ended up exposing himself to the human boy.

He had one specific rule that he had followed for a while now and it was because of that rule that he had managed to live for so long on his own without being caught. And that rule was: DON'T EXPOSE WHO YOU ARE.

Ash found himself breaking it to save the boy.

But out of fear of what he saw, the boy ended up reporting everything to the village chief. As a result, the chief acted by ordering a search for him with a fifty gold worth bounty to motivate the hunters and mages that occupied the village of Helstra.

When they found him in the sewage tunnels, he chose not to fight bath…how could he fight back when they had weapons strong enough to take him out in an instant. And despite being a half-demon, Ash feared death the most as it was what took his mother away from him in the first place.

The mages delivered him to the village council and without hearing out the rest of his story, he was sentenced to a public death just like every other half-demon that they got their hands on.




At this moment, his heart was throbbing with anger and pain as he watched the same people he had lived with his whole life burn him alive in these flames.

Demons were supposed to be resistant to fire, but holy flames were very different—they were said to be a gift from the god of fire, Hephaestus himself and their divine ability was strong enough to burn even the strongest demons from the dark realm. The same flames were used to kill half-demons and the humans who birthed them in the first place since they were believed to be curses that brought calamity to kingdoms the longer they survived in one.

Ash just happened to be born unlucky. For as long as he could remember, this was just how things have been ever since the first holy war where humanity fought against the demon lord and his endless army of powerful bloodthirsty salvage demons, each capable of ripping hundreds of lives in a matter of minutes.

The mages of the magic realm did their best to hold them back…but it wasn't enough, the demons were greater than them and the war wasn't in the human's favor, and numerous lives were lost. But just when humans had lost hope, a sect of magic users known as Dark Knights rose out of nowhere and led the remaining armies of humanity in the final battle against the demon lord and managed to injure and push his armies to the icy Northlands, leaving the rest of the world to humanity and the other races that occupied the realm.

And although it was a great victory, humanity had still lost too much during the war— giving birth to a never-ending hatred towards demonkind.

For Ash, his fantasy of a world where he could live as a demon had completely died. And he had realized that it was too cruel to a half-demon like him no matter how human he looked or acted. He had no fangs, horns, or wings, but his gifts were a blessing from the dark realm and that's what humans feared the most, the power capable of taking away so many lives if he ever lost control.

Because of that power, the kingdoms of the magic realm created more and more magic spells to slaughter his kind and killed those who slept with demons calling them 'Aturasu' to mean demon-possessed.

And currently, Ash was the last of the half-demons in the kingdom of Valron and maybe in the entirety of Draygol, or the Southlands.

They had killed so many over the past years, and it was surprising that he made it this far without being noticed. The war had only happened thirteen years ago, and he had just happened to be born after it. The world was cruel enough to publicly kill a thirteen-year-old.

Another rock flew at him and hit his head so hard that blood started trickling down his forehead. He couldn't take it anymore…the slow but intense pain was getting into his mind and anytime soon he was going to break into madness.

He muffled out a word. "…Stop."

"Please…stop….I beg you…I didn't ask for this…please…" he could no longer hold in the flood of tears being caused by the excruciating pain he was feeling both emotionally and physically; at the same time, he kept on glimpsing images of his mother playing within his mind the closer his death approached.

His life was flashing before his eyes and the only person he could think of was his late mother. She was the only human who accepted what he was—and he could never forget her enchanting smile along with the warmth it brought into his heart. If it meant dying here would mean that he would see that smile again, he would. But that's not how things worked when you are connected to the dark realm.

Suddenly, the crowd stopped hollering along with everything they were doing.

"Huh?" he raised his head, puzzled by the situation. Why did they stop?

For a second, Ash assumed that the crowd had maybe received some kind of revelation and had noticed that he was on their side all along.

But his logic was corrected when he unexpectedly sensed something sinister approaching him from within the silent crowd. They all looked frozen in place like time had paused for everyone except him.

The ambiance grew uneasy and he felt a tug forming in his stomach as the rest of his body quivered in fear the closer this presence got to him.

"Do you hate us?" The flames didn't hurt anymore after he heard a woman's voice in his head. Ash had no hint as to what was going on, but what he knew was that he needed to defend himself because every single muscle in him was telling him to do so.

He hadn't learned a thing about how to use his demon powers, but he had his demon strength to back him up in combat—but how would that be possible when he was stuck bound to the cross?

His eyes widened as he fought harder to free himself from the binding ropes…but it was futile.

The crowd then split in two and made way for a silver-haired woman who was sauntering gently in his direction.

The moment she appeared, the terrifying presence he had been sensing vanished in an instant from the moment their eyes met for the first time. She was dressed like an elite mage from the royal capital—her robe was different from the usual green that everyday mages wore when they were patrolling the village. Hers was blood red and had the symbol of a three-headed dragon sawed onto her chest to represent the kingdom she served.

Her bright blue eyes glistened in the light of the burning flames in the center of the village as she glared at him. She had a beautiful calm face that would even make the bravest of men fall to their knees at first glance. She was a grand beauty that was already made his heart race.

In her right hand, she held a magic staff which from the top looked like it was carrying a black crystal that seemed to be containing a thundercloud—because its surface kept on cackling with black lightning.

Without saying anything, she tapped the staff twice on the ground and the magic flames were extinguished by nothing more than just a blast of wind. And the binds holding him also snapped and he fell on his chest miserably.

Ash whined, though he hardly felt pain under normal circumstances—this was one of the cases where he's been weakened to a point where he had lost his strength. But that didn't matter, he had been given a second chance to live. While on his knees, he opened his mouth to speak to express his gratitude but she didn't let him.

"Are you afraid of death, creature?" she interrupted. Her tone was terrifyingly calm.

Ash felt lessened by being called a creature, but he had no choice in the matter—this woman had just saved his life. "Yes, I am," he stuttered, looking down as he couldn't say it to her face due to the shame he felt right now.

He could not tell how long, a minute? Or a few seconds of silence between them before she could say anything else.

"How disappointing, then you are not fit to serve by my side," she responded, and the presence he sensed before returned. Ash was then sent into the most painful moment of his entire life as he felt something rising from within his head. It was a headache, one that made him feel like it was about to explode.

The world was spinning endlessly in his eyes while blood trickled down from his nose, then his tears turned red from blood. It became so hard to think through what was happening to him.

But why was she doing this to him? Wasn't she on his side?

He screamed in pain, grasped onto the woman's rob, and cried for mercy in the hope she would spare his life. He could feel death's presence, her cold hand clasping onto his shoulder and attempting to pull him over to the other side.

The woman gave him a disgusted look after seeing his bloody hands on her robe.

"Those who fear death even after facing it are bound to die as weaklings," she grunted before kicking him in the face with so much energy that it almost split his skull. He was then forced to let go of her because the force of her kick sent him flying meters away from her before crashing to the ground.

He could no longer fight, beg, or cry. Nothing could save him now. This woman was stronger than him in every way. He got up and faced her, growling like an animal. She grinned menacingly at him as if she were entertained by all this, "I hate half-breeds too, especially the useless ones," she said.

Those were the last words he heard before his head popped like a bubble, and his brain and blood gushed out all over the place like paint thrown on a wall. She watched as his body collapsed on the ground before she freed the villagers from her spell.

They all mumbled in confusion about what had just happened and who was the strange woman standing in front of them.

She then drew in some air to clear her idiotic smile and faced the confused crowd. "People of this village, rejoice, for you've been saved again by the great kingdom of Alegore. This demon had freed itself and had cast a spell on you all. But have no fear, I have saved all of you." She pointed at the headless body lying on the ground.

The village folk believed her and cheered for her after concluding that she was telling the truth.







The dark-haired boy screamed in fear and jumped from his seat before falling on the floor. The fall was painful, which was odd because he wasn't supposed to feel it.

Suddenly, laughter broke out from the background, awakening the trauma he already had from what just woke him. He started to panic when—

"Everyone, silent!" A man's voice echoed and the laughing stopped almost instantly. The boy looked up only to notice a handsome white-haired man standing in front of him. He was in a silver cloak to show he was a mage— but the cloak alone was enough to terrify his fragile mind.

Panicking, he froze remembering the moments before his death. His heart pounded loudly from within his chest once again as the man approached him with a concerned look on his face.

"Stay away from me!" he shouted and put his palm forward warning him to stay back. But instead, a fireball shot out of his palm hand, aiming for the man.

He was shocked he could use magic, but that had to wait. He had to defeat this man at all costs. Desperately, he continued to blast him with more fireballs, but the man canceled them out with magic that he had never seen before.

Horror displayed in his eyes before he gave up and he realized he couldn't keep up with this anymore; his strength was depleted.

"Please, I don't want to die…" he muffled as everything around him started to grow clearer—he was surrounded by more people, but they weren't looking at him with cold gazes like before, they were….


Everything went black and the last thing he remembered was the sound of his body hitting the ground after he finally lost all his strength.