Demon Lord's Reincarnation

The many reincarnations of the Strongest Mortal Soul had talents in many different fields but all of them had talent for battle. Among all of them, there was one who not only loved battle like the rest but loved the idea of martial arts.

Nero Neferani was the king of the kingdom of Thorhaven who valued martial arts above all else. In this kingdom, martial honor, valor, and pride were the values engraved in the citizens. In this kingdom, every citizen was a warrior, a martial artist, and they lived and died for battle.

To these citizens the the greatest dishonor was to die of old age, so most who were growing older would challenge the strongest of the kingdom which was the king.

In Thorhaven anyone could be king, as they choose their king not by bloodline or by vote, but by strength. Any who wins against the current king will then be crowned king.

Thorhaven was a kingdom located on perilous mountain ranges, the weak would not be able to survive even a few days in the kingdom. The way the kingdom was built was also a part of training and many foreigners have died falling to their deaths by merely traversing the kingdom.

Not only was Thorhaven the paradise of warriors but it was also the one considered to have the greatest blacksmiths, as every citizen knew how to forge their own weapons.

The children of the kingdom start training at an early age from fighting to tactics as well as forging one's own weapon.

...

In Thorhaven battles never stop, and duels were the favorite pastime of the people. Most of these duels were just for fun, but some were to the death. Among all the citizens it was the king who dueled the most. Old warriors who wanted to die as warriors would often challenge the king to duel to the death.

Even in all of Thorhaven's long honorable history, none of the past kings could match the might of Nero. Since the king could be replaced if he was defeated in battle, anyone could replace the king even foreigners. So it was not unusual for a foreigner to be a king, but in the history of Thorhaven that happened only once.

Also in the history of Thorhaven, the king would change every few years or so, but Nero has been king two decades now the longest in Thorhaven's history. Nero had not only beaten his opponents, but he beat them using their own specialties after two decades of duels those who wished to duel Nero to become king no longer appeared.

Nero who was getting bored by the lack of challenges was happily surprised that the neighboring Espada Empire had been strengthening its army and was planning on conquering their kingdom.

It has been ages since the last known war, since Thorhaven has never declared war seeing as it felt beneath them to try and conquer weaker nations, and most of the time no one dares try to conquer them.

The last known war happened a millennia ago when Thorhaven was just established many have tried to conquer them, but with the location of their kingdom as well as how powerful the warriors were, no one has ever succeeded in even reaching the walls of the main city.

It wasn't just Nero who was excited but the citizens were as well, this war was a new kind of entertainment. Many of the warriors were even wondering if they would die in this war, just thinking about it made them smile gleefully.

...

Nero Neferani stood at the pinnacle of the great mountain that overlooked the Kingdom of Thorhaven, his eyes scanning the horizon. For the first time in years, a spark of anticipation lit his chest. The Espada Empire was coming.

"Finally," Nero muttered, cracking his knuckles in excitement. His towering form, muscles honed from decades of combat, rippled with raw power beneath the armor he had forged himself. Thorhaven was a kingdom of warriors, and Nero, its king, was the very embodiment of martial excellence.

He turned to face the gathered throngs of warriors his loyal subjects. Every citizen, from the youngest child to the elderly, had gathered in the great plaza, all eagerly awaiting the call to battle.

"We will meet them at the gates of our kingdom!" Nero's voice thundered, loud and clear, echoing off the stone walls of the great city. "Not just to defend our home but to remind those fools that Thorhaven is not a kingdom that mere numbers can topple. We are a kingdom forged in blood, sweat, and steel. We live for battle!"

A roar of approval surged from the crowd, a deep, unified cry that resonated through the heart of the kingdom.

"Let them come," Nero continued, a fierce grin splitting his face. "For we will destroy them."

...

The Espada Empire was a vast, powerful nation known for its relentless expansion and disciplined armies. However, they had underestimated Thorhaven. The terrain, the culture, and the warriors of the kingdom were unlike any the Espada Empire had faced before.

When the first wave of Espada soldiers reached the foot of the mountain, they were met not with fear or retreat, but with the thunderous roar of battle-hardened warriors rushing to meet them. Nero, leading the charge, felt his heart beat in time with the rhythm of battle. His warriors surged forward like a tidal wave of steel and fury, brandishing weapons that they themselves had forged in the fires of Thorhaven's forges.

Though vast and well-trained, the Espada Empire's army was unprepared for Thorhaven's warriors' ferocity. They had no unity and fought individually without any formation but each warrior was able to overwhelm a group of Espada's soldiers.

Nero who was carrying many weapons, shot, sliced, pierced, and even punched waves of enemy soldiers to death. Nero had killed countless of the Empire's footmen and even knights, but he did not even sustain a single injury.

"Come on now, you're the invading army so show a bit more backbone and fight like you mean it!" Nero roared, cleaving an enemy general in half with a single swing.

His warriors were no different. They laughed in the face of death, delighting in the chaos of war. A veteran warrior, Garuk, a massive bear of a man, swung his great hammer through a line of Espada soldiers, crushing their shields like paper.

"Come, cowards!" Garuk bellowed. "Come face the might of Thorhaven! I'll show you how warriors fight!"

Beside Garuk, the nimble twin blades of Lyra danced through the air, cutting through enemies like wind through grass. She spun and pirouetted as though in a deadly waltz, laughing with glee. "I've missed this! Come! Come, and die like the fools you are!"

The Espada soldiers were being torn apart, not by overwhelming numbers, but by the singular, unrelenting strength of warriors who had lived their entire lives for moments like this. It wasn't just a battle it was an execution.

...

As the initial wave of the Espada Empire fell before them, the Thorhaven warriors did not rest. They were celebrating their victory waiting for the second wave to come.

Nero stood at the edge of the battlefield eating a piece of meat, while wiping the blood from his blade, his eyes fixed on the horizon where the dust clouds of the approaching Espada forces swirled.

"I can feel it," he muttered to himself, a fire igniting within him. "This is the battle I've been waiting for."

The Espada Empire, realizing the might of Thorhaven's warriors, had dispatched their elite the Espada Knights, a group of warriors whose strength rivaled even the most legendary fighters of the empire. These were no mere soldiers; they were the Empire's finest, each bearing weapons forged in the deepest forges of Espada, their bodies honed for the sole purpose of war.

Among them was a figure who immediately captured Nero's attention a man named Valthor, known as the Black Blade. Valthor was a warrior of unmatched skill and power, and he had come to challenge Nero himself. As the leader of the Espada Knights, he was said to be the Empire's strongest warrior, a man whose blade had never been defeated in battle.

When the two locked eyes from across the battlefield, the air seemed to crackle with energy. Both men were legends in their own right, and the moment they saw each other, the battlefield around them seemed to vanish.

Nero grinned. "Finally, some challenge."

Valthor, clad in dark armor with a black, jagged sword slung over his back, stepped forward. His voice was low and calm, but full of malice.

"I've heard of you, Nero Neferani. The king who cannot be dethroned. I'm here to change that."

"Hoh, are you going to give me the gift of defeat? Hahahaha, now that's what I'm talking about!" Nero had a vicious smile on his face as he looked at Valthor not as an enemy but as a source of entertainment.

...

Without warning, Nero leaped forward, his sword flashing in the sunlight as it slashed through the air. Valthor reacted instantly, drawing his blade with a speed that matched Nero's, and their swords met in a thunderous clash that sent shockwaves through the ground.

Each strike was a blur, their blades moving faster than the eye could follow. The force of their blows sent sparks flying, and the sound of steel meeting steel rang out like a symphony of battle.

Nero felt the exhilaration of the fight surge through him as his muscles burned with the intensity of the battle. This was what he had been waiting for. The true test of his strength.

Valthor, however, was no mere slouch. His movements were calculated, and precise, his sword a blur of deadly intent. He was a master of a style that focused on overwhelming power and ruthless efficiency, and he aimed every strike with the intent to end the fight quickly.

But Nero was different. He was not just a warrior; he was the king of warriors, and his mastery of battle went beyond mere technique. His fighting style was a living, breathing thing, flowing with the rhythm of the battle itself, adapting to each opponent's strengths and weaknesses. He had never been defeated because he understood something Valthor did not: that true strength was not in defeating an opponent—it was in mastering oneself.

With a mighty roar, Nero pushed back against Valthor's blade, creating an opening for a swift counterattack. His sword moved in a beautiful arc, and in a single stroke, it pierced through Valthor's guard, landing a blow to his head.

"Well, that was a good fight. Come on then who's next!" Nero who had won roared at the other knights wanting to fight some more.

The sound of Valthor's blade crashing to the ground echoed across the battlefield. The mighty Black Blade was defeated, his form crumpling as Nero's sword gleamed with the triumph of a king who had once again proven that no one could match his strength.

The Espada Knights, the Empire's most formidable warriors, stood frozen. Their leader defeated, their morale broken. But even now, they were not ready to concede. They had come to Thorhaven with the intention of conquering it, but what they faced was something they could never have prepared for a living legend whose prowess could not be rivaled by any mortal.

Nero stood tall amidst the fallen, his chest heaving with exhilaration. His eyes swept over the remaining Espada Knights. He felt no arrogance only the thrill of battle.

"Well, that was a good fight. Come on then, who's next?" he roared, his voice booming like a drumbeat of war.

The warriors of Thorhaven, their blood still hot from the clash, let out a collective cheer. They circled around Nero, emboldened by his presence, by his unstoppable momentum. Garuk, the towering bear of a man with his war hammer, and Lyra, the agile twin-sword master, flanked him, their eyes gleaming with anticipation.

"Those knights aren't going to last much longer," Garuk grinned, swinging his hammer idly as he watched the remaining Espada soldiers hesitate.

Lyra twirled her blades, her voice like a song in the chaos of battle. "They never had a chance. Not against Thorhaven's warriors. I hope they had some more bite to them. I wanted to die in this war, but they won't be able to do that."

Nero cracked his neck and took a deep breath, feeling the adrenaline of battle coursing through his veins. He was already moving before any of his warriors had the chance to catch up. He had only one thought on his mind: the thrill of more battle.

The Espada Empire had never encountered an enemy like Thorhaven. They had underestimated the people of the mountain kingdom, and now they were paying the price for their hubris. The remaining Espada Knights, though powerful, were visibly shaken by the fall of their leader.

Valthor's defeat was more than just the loss of a single man it shattered the morale of their entire army. The knights, hardened warriors in their own right, now realized that victory was not just unlikely it was impossible. And that knowledge tore at them like a plague.

Still, they fought with everything they had, knowing they could not turn back, knowing that their defeat meant certain death. But they were no match for Nero and his warriors.

The battle raged for hours, the once pristine fields of Thorhaven turning to a sea of blood and shattered weapons. Nero danced through the battlefield, his many weapons flashing like lightning, cutting down knight after knight. He moved with a fluidity that only a master of battle could achieve, his strikes as fast as the wind and gave all his opponents a swift death. His enemies could barely react before his blade had already pierced their armor or shattered their defenses.

Every time he felled one of the Espada Knights, his warriors cheered, their laughter rising like thunder. Garuk's hammer shattered the ground beneath the feet of his enemies, sending soldiers flying into the air like ragdolls. Lyra darted and weaved between foes, her twin blades carving through flesh and steel alike, her movements a blur of deadly elegance.

"What's the matter?" Nero called out to the remaining Espada warriors, his voice dripping with mockery. "I thought you were supposed to be the elite?"

The fear in the eyes of the remaining soldiers was palpable. They had been told stories of the legendary king of Thorhaven and how he had defeated dozens of warriors, including men of their own caliber, using their own styles against them. They had thought those were mere rumors. But now, standing in the shadow of the most fearsome warrior to ever live, they realized the truth. They had been wrong.

The tide of battle shifted irrevocably in Thorhaven's favor.

...

The Espada Empire's army was disintegrating before Nero's unstoppable advance. The once proud knights were scattered, broken, and fleeing for their lives. Nero's warriors, laughing like maniacs, pursued them with wild abandon, cutting down any who wished to die gloriously in battle.

By the time the sun began to dip below the mountains, the battlefield was strewn with the bodies of the fallen, both Espada and Thorhaven alike. But for every warrior from Thorhaven that lay fallen, twenty of the Empire's finest had been erased. The remaining Espada were being slaughtered not as warriors, but as insects under the crushing heel of Thorhaven's might.

On the distant hill where Nero had first stood, watching the incoming storm of war, the last of the Espada's commanders stood. He watched, unable to believe the carnage. His men, his best had fallen, and the kingdom he sought to conquer was now a tomb for his army.

Nero appeared before him in an instant, his footsteps light and quick, like the wind. The commander, a towering man with a black beard and armor as dark as midnight, drew his sword with trembling hands.

"You…" the commander said, his voice thick with disbelief. "You… you're the king?"

Nero gave a slow nod, his grin wide. "You came to fight. I'm still waiting."

The commander, trembling with both fear and rage, rushed forward with a roar, swinging his sword in a wide arc. But it was nothing compared to the force of Nero's counter. The king raised his own weapon, catching the commander's sword with a single swipe of his blade, sending it flying into the air. In the same fluid motion, Nero struck, his sword flashing once more. The commander's armor crumpled, and his life was extinguished in an instant.

The final leader of the Espada Empire fell at Nero's feet, defeated without ever even landing a blow. The battle was over.

...

News of Elite of Espada's army being defeated and retreating spread far and wide. The continent once again remembered the madmen of Thorhaven.

The Emperor of Espada not wanting to admit defeat used the fear the people had of Thorhaven to form an alliance with a few kingdoms and another empire. They banded together to destroy the so-called demons of Thorhaven.

Unbeknownst to them when the warriors of Thorhaven learned of the Espada Empire's alliances they did not cower in fear, but instead trembled in excitement. A war like no other was about to start and they were at the center of the storm.

...

This war would last for years, and in the end, the mighty warriors of Thorhaven who were outnumbered a hundred to one were slowly killed, but even in the face of death, whether they be children, men, women, or the elderly they simply laughed that maddening laugh rejoicing at the fact they were able to die in battle.

The only one who lasted until the very end was the undefeated king of warriors, Nero. He who stood on top of the martial throne killed thousands upon thousands of enemy soldiers until he died not by a blade but by exhaustion.

Even at the end, he stood proudly in the face of the enemies, his body which stood on the martial throne of Thorhaven was not moved as no one was brave enough to approach even his dead body.

It was said that after that battle even after hundreds of years no soul ever stepped foot again in the kingdom of warriors the kingdom of Thorhaven.