Chapter 4 – The General Who Craves Violence

The training grounds smelled like blood, sulfur, and protein powder.

Lilith guided me through a massive archway carved from obsidian, her tail swishing with pride as she gestured at the chaos beyond. The courtyard stretched out like a nightmare football field, packed with hulking demons sparring with weapons that looked like they’d been forged in the heart of a dying star. Screams echoed off the walls, guttural roars mixed with the clang of steel on steel, and somewhere in the distance, something exploded in a shower of green fire.​

I was lowkey about to pass out.

My massive armored body moved forward on autopilot while my brain screamed at me to run, hide, maybe fake a demonic illness and go back to bed. These weren’t cartoon villains or video game NPCs—these were actual monsters. A nine-foot-tall minotaur with six arms was bench-pressing a boulder the size of a sedan. A cluster of imp-like creatures with bat wings were dive-bombing each other with what appeared to be flaming spears. Two lizard-men were wrestling in a pit, their scales scraping together with a sound like nails on a chalkboard.​

“Your presence makes the very air tremble, My Lord.”

Lilith glanced back at me, her crimson eyes sparkling with admiration.

I wasn’t doing anything special. I was literally just standing there, trying not to hyperventilate through this demonic respiratory system. But apparently my terror was manifesting as some kind of power leak, because the atmosphere around me felt thick, heavy, like the pressure before a thunderstorm. Dark purple energy rolled off my armor in waves, dissipating into the air like dry ice smoke.​

“They can feel your strength returning.”

She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a reverent whisper.

“The soldiers are inspired just by your presence.”

I glanced at the nearest group of demons. They had all stopped sparring and were now staring at me with expressions that ranged from awe to abject terror. One of them, a skinny goblin-looking dude with too many teeth, actually dropped his sword and fell to his knees.

Great, I thought, my panic is a power move.

The mana kept leaking out of me like a broken faucet because I had zero idea how to control it. Back in the Hero body, the magic felt intuitive, easy, like breathing. But here in the Demon King shell, everything was dialed up to eleven and the controls were written in a language I didn’t speak.​

“Come, My Lord.”

Lilith took my clawed hand, her small fingers wrapping around two of my talons.

“The General is eager to see you.”

We walked deeper into the training grounds, past rows of weapon racks stocked with axes, swords, and things I didn’t have names for. The demons parted before us like the Red Sea, bowing their heads as we passed. Some whispered prayers, others just trembled.

I felt like a fraud wrapped in twenty layers of intimidation.

Then I heard it.

A sound like thunder cracking stone.

CRACK.

CRACK.

CRACK.

We rounded a corner and there she was.

Gorgara stood in the center of a sparring ring, her massive hands gripping a boulder the size of a washing machine. Her muscles flexed, green-tinted skin glistening with sweat and oil under the blood-red sky. She was easily six and a half feet tall, built like a tank designed by someone who thought tanks weren’t aggressive enough. Scars crisscrossed her abs in patterns that told stories of battles survived. Small tusks jutted from her lower lip, sharp and oddly cute in a way that made her even more dangerous.​

She wore what could only be described as battle bikini armor.

Lots of exposed skin, strategically placed metal plates, and a confidence that said she didn’t need full coverage because nothing could touch her anyway. A massive battleaxe made of dragon bone leaned against the ring post behind her, the blade gleaming with runes that pulsed faintly.​

She crushed the boulder with one final squeeze.

It exploded into gravel, dust puffing into the air as chunks rained down around her feet.

Gorgara turned to face us, her yellow eyes narrowing as they locked onto me.

She snorted.

The sound was dismissive, contemptuous, like she’d just smelled expired milk and decided it wasn’t worth her time.

“So the King finally woke up.”

Her voice was rough, loud, the kind of voice that didn’t need a microphone to command a battlefield.

Lilith’s tail stopped swishing. Her wings flared slightly, a warning sign I was starting to recognize.

“Show respect, General.”

Gorgara ignored her completely. She stepped out of the ring, her bare feet crunching on gravel as she approached me. She moved like a predator, all coiled strength and zero hesitation. She stopped a few feet away, tilting her head as she studied me from head to toe.

“You smell weird.”

She leaned in, sniffing the air around me like a dog checking out a suspicious package.

“Soft. Weak. Like a human.”

My internal alarm system started blaring. She was too close to the truth, way too close. I forced myself to stand still, to not react, to channel every ounce of fake confidence I had into not flinching.​

“The Demon King does not answer to your insults.”

Lilith stepped between us, her hand moving to the dagger at her hip.

Gorgara laughed, a booming sound that echoed across the training grounds.

“Relax, Lilith. I’m not saying he’s trash.”

She grinned, showing off sharp teeth.

“I’m saying he’s been asleep so long, he forgot what it means to be strong.”

She turned her attention back to me, crossing her arms under her chest in a way that somehow made her more intimidating.

“You know what I heard? I heard that blonde Hero, the pretty boy with the glowing eyes, wears silk underwear and cries when he chips a nail.”

I felt my soul leave my body.

She was talking about me. The other me. The Hero me. And she was absolutely dragging him through the mud with surgical precision.

“I bet he uses conditioner.”

Gorgara continued, her voice dripping with disdain.

“Probably moisturizes twice a day. Probably has a skincare routine longer than our battle plans.”

I do use conditioner, I thought, my internal monologue spiraling into defensive panic. And moisturizer is important, it’s called self-care, no cap.​

“That Hero is a joke.”

She spat on the ground.

“Magic this, holy light that. He probably can’t even lift his own sword without enchantments doing the heavy lifting.”

Lilith’s hand tightened on her dagger.

“The Hero is a threat, General. Do not underestimate him.”

“A threat?”

Gorgara barked out another laugh.

“He’s a pampered prince playing dress-up. When I get my hands on him, I’m gonna rip those pretty arms off and beat him to death with them.”

I wanted to argue, to defend my Honor form’s honor, to point out that abs like mine didn’t come from laziness. But I couldn’t. I was stuck in this armored nightmare body, pretending to be the villain while she roasted my real self into oblivion.

This was the worst identity crisis in recorded history.

Gorgara’s grin faded. Her expression shifted, turning serious, dangerous.

“But before we hunt that silk-wearing coward, we need to make sure our King is still worthy.”

She reached back and grabbed her dragon bone axe in one fluid motion. The weapon was absurdly large, the kind of thing that should require two hands and a forklift. She hefted it like it weighed nothing, resting it casually on her shoulder.

“I challenge you, Demon King.”

Her voice rang out across the training grounds, silencing every conversation, every sparring match.

“I challenge you for the right to lead the vanguard.”

The air went cold.

Lilith moved so fast she blurred. One second she was next to me, the next she was nose-to-nose with Gorgara, her wings spread wide, her crimson eyes blazing with fury.​

“You dare—”

“I dare.”

Gorgara didn’t back down. She met Lilith’s glare with her own, her grip tightening on the axe.

“If the King can’t tank my axe, he doesn’t deserve the throne.”

Lilith’s hand shot to her dagger, fully drawing it this time. The blade gleamed with dark magic, shadows coiling around the steel like living smoke.

“I will execute you where you stand for this insolence.”

“Try it.”

Gorgara shifted her stance, ready for a fight.

The tension was suffocating. Every demon in the training grounds had stopped what they were doing and turned to watch. Some looked terrified, others excited, all of them waiting to see if their General was about to get murdered by the King’s right hand.

I stood there, a giant armored statue of indecision.

On one hand, letting Lilith kill Gorgara would solve the immediate problem. No duel, no risk of exposure, no chance of me getting my demonic skull caved in by a dragon bone axe.

On the other hand, that felt wrong. Gorgara was brash, loud, kind of a jerk, but she wasn’t evil. She was just doing her job, testing her King to make sure he was still strong enough to lead. In her world, strength was currency, and a leader who couldn’t fight didn’t deserve loyalty.​

Plus, I was trying to be a benevolent boss here. I couldn’t just execute people for disagreeing with me, that was dictator behavior, and I’d spent enough time in corporate hell to know that fear-based leadership was trash.

“Lilith.”

My voice boomed out, echoing across the courtyard.

She froze, her dagger still raised.

“Step back.”

“My Lord—”

“I accept the challenge.”

The words left my mouth before my brain could catch up and veto them.

Lilith turned to stare at me, her expression a mix of shock and horror.

“My Lord, you don’t have to—”

“I accept.”

I repeated, forcing confidence into my tone.

Gorgara’s grin returned, wider and sharper than before.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about.”

She stepped back, twirling her axe like it was a baton.

“No magic, no tricks. Just raw strength. You and me, King. Let’s see if you’re still the monster they say you are.”

Lilith lowered her dagger slowly, her hand trembling. She looked like she wanted to argue, to drag me away, to protect me from my own stupidity.

But she didn’t.

She stepped aside, her wings drooping in defeat.

“As you command, My Lord.”

I walked forward, each step heavy, the ground cracking slightly under my weight. The crowd of demons formed a circle around us, creating an impromptu arena. They chanted, stomped, roared their approval.

Gorgara rolled her shoulders, loosening up.

“If you can’t handle this, you’re done.”

I had no idea how to fight with this body, no idea how to control the mana leaking everywhere, and zero confidence that I wouldn’t get obliterated in the next thirty seconds.

But I was committed now, and backing down would shatter whatever fragile authority I had left.

The System, unhelpfully, remained silent.