How to Make the Perfect Demon Lord

A little girl wearing a melon-shaped cap—one calles herself the system—was the one who had beheaded the three girls.

All because they lacked the Broken Shield.

A condition none of them could control.

A reasoning so absurd, it begged for explanation.

Lora's eyes twitched as they met Jamie's. His gaze met hers—passion burning in both, even though one was about to fade forever. Her lips trembled, trying to form words, only to be drowned by silence.

"Am I dreaming?" Jamie thought, his eyes dark with emotion. His body frozen—not with fear, but with rage.

"No… this isn't real!" He tried to convince himself.

But the dull thuds of falling bodies told him otherwise, ripping away any illusion.

"Hey, why are you all upside down!" Charlotte's voice cut through the heavy air, her tone light.

No answer came. Only eyes glistening with tears, moments away from bursting.

The killer's smile lingered, twisted and unshaken by the barbarity she had portrayed . Alexander's gaze narrowed on her, searching for logic in the madness, but finding only chaos.

"Only humans with the Broken Shield can progress to the next stage."

Her words echoed in him once more , senseless yet heavy.

"Why only us?"

"Why wait this long to tell us?"

"Why make them suffer if they were never needed?"

He pondered and yet no answers came.

The girl tilted her head. Her bright, soulless eyes locked on him as she uttered the last thing they ever expected to hear.

"Don't blame me."

Every gaze snapped to her.

"Killing them was supposed to be your job."

Her disturbing words echoed in their minds, opening a flood of unanswered questions.

"You had a golden point. They should've been your playthings,!" she continued, each word venomous.

Golden point?

Playthings?

Human beings?

At that moment, something inside Jamie snapped. His heartbeat thundered in his chest, his fury rising and falling in waves. A forgotten promise clawed its way back to the surface:

I am the one who delivers justice.

The vow rekindled, burning hotter than ever. He would avenge their deaths. By delivering justice to the system, the creator, whoever had birthed this nightmare called Midgard. They had cursed the girls, staining their final moments with blood and madness, all in the name of reincarnation.

A voice inside him—sharp, vengeful—urged him to attack. But his mind steadied him.

"Not yet."

A hand touched his shoulder. Greg.

"Let's go," he whispered, soft but firm.

Bray turned first , his expression tight, wrestling with the violence boiling inside him. As the second oldest, he had to stay strong.

Alexander removed his glasses, rubbing his eyes dry, then followed.

Jamie's gaze lingered on the corpses one last time. Blood gushed like fountains from their necks, an image he knew he will never forget.

"Lora…!" He thought.

"In another life, we could've been friends. Maybe more." His teeth clenched, eyes burning.

He turned forward, his voice low, determined.

"I promise, I'll deliver your souls justice."

---

Silence followed them through the passage. The door behind was gone, replaced by a tunnel unlike the rough builders' base. This one was pristine—stone polished smooth, walls lined with lights. The glow stretched endlessly ahead, leading them forward.

No one spoke. Their thoughts were heavy, clouded by grief and unanswerable questions.

Four remained. Nine games still ahead. Whether they would face them as allies or enemies was a mystery waiting to unfold.

Bray's face twitched. His lips moved restlessly, desperate to break the suffocating silence.

"Greg?" he muttered.

Greg's shoulders stiffened.

"How… how are you still alive?"

Jamie perked up, eyes narrowing. "Yeah. I forgot to ask too."

Greg chuckled nervously, already plotting a lie.

"After the Commander hit me… I blacked out."

Jamie's eyes locked on him, absorbing every word.

"When I woke up, ten minutes had passed. I wasn't fit to fight, so… I drowned myself in a lake I saw when I was in the limo"

"That's why we never found your body," Bray said quietly.

Greg nodded, feigning shame.

"You know Jamie almost died, right?" Alexander's voice cut sharp, killing whatever comfort lingered.

Greg winced. "That's on me. Sorry."

"Doesn't matter. It all worked out," Bray said, forcing optimism.

Alexander's eyes glinted with curiosity.

"Then tell me this—how did you take the base back?"

Jamie froze. His chest tightened, eyes darting to Bray. The light at the tunnel's end grew closer, spilling across his face.

He couldn't reveal the Glitch. Not now.

"We'll talk about it later," Bray said quickly. "Right now, we need to focus on where we're going."

The light engulfed them.

And what awaited tore their expectations apart.

They found themselves standing on the middle of a vast tiled floor, on top a ceiling so high it vanished in brilliance. Lights flooded the hall, dazzling like sunlight. Tiers of chairs spiraled around the halls, carving a large center in-between, and on top along the walls, was a second tier carefully built like a gallery—elegant and sweeping, circulating around the hall.

On those chairs sat beings unlike any they had faced—elves with ears long and sharp, humans cloaked in finery, with a few garments marked by colors that divided them into factions. Each figure glowed, their bodies reflecting light, their auras steaming like fire from their skin. Golden hair crowned many of them; some only had highlights. Some appeared fully transformed, radiant and inhuman.

"Shit…" Bray muttered, his voice trembling.

"Elves are real?" Jamie said, shocked, eyes tracing the strange beings.

He scanned left, right—until his gaze stopped at the highest row. On its walls an R symbol stood glittering. They were on the right side, so he assumed it meant right.

On the corner of the row sat four figures.

A female elf. A young woman. Two young men. All dressed in immaculate black suits embroidered with golden medals. Half-golden masks covered their faces, smirks carved beneath them as they stared down at the boys. Power radiated from them in waves.

On the opposite side, an L stood, design identical. On the corner sat a tall medium-sized woman in a white dress that flooded up to her feet.

Next to her sat the mysterious muscular woman that had conversed with Greg in Midgard—smiling, waving her fingers. This time, she wore a red robe with a scorpion crest on her back, along with nine others who looked at Greg with concentration.

Greg immediately saw her, an angry smirk formed on his face.

"Guys, look!" he called, pointing next to them, distracting the boys.

Beside them, four tunnels opened. Groups of five or four emerged from each, their golden hair blazing in the light.

Murmurs from the seats echoed all around, whispering in each other's ears while pointing at them like they were selecting chicken in a farm.

Then a mechanical voice came.

[Attention, players.]

It echoed, this time deep, it was a male mechanical voice.

[Welcome to Midworld.]

"What?" Bray whispered.

"Midworld!" Jamie murmured, shocked.

"Sshhh!" Alexander stopped the conversations, listening urgently.

"We were supposed to go to Midgard!" A question echoed from one of the groups.

[This… is… Midgard.]

The voice replied calm.

[Just larger and more interesting.]

The voice continued.

"What do you mean?"

[Midgard's are subworld's, created to prepare you for Midworld.]

The mechanical voice continued.

Shock filled them, grounding questions without answers, filling the toned-down conversations.

"I thought we were the only ones left!"

They muttered within the groups.

"Me too!"

"When you think about it, the system never told us we were!"

"Really?"

"Yeah, we just assumed!"

As they discussed, their audiences stayed silent, watching closely, until a man shouted:

"Ekzelia!"

All eyes turned on him. He was one of those seated on the L side—muscular, short golden hair, wearing a white suit. A small straight scar lay on his forehead.

"Who does that guy think he is!" Bray said.

[Yes, Cain.] The voice replied.

"Tell them to fight each other!"

Gasps of fear echoed from the middle of the hall, shouts of excitement flowed from the stairs.

Jamie couldn't believe what he was hearing, his eyes enlarging in shock.

What the heck! he thought.

[Sir,]

The mechanical voice replied with a sudden change in tone.

The boys couldn't believe what they heard.

"The system respecting a human being!"

They got chills just thinking of what kind of human being he was, and the power he might hold.

[It's… it's against protocol,] the system pleaded.

"I think you got me wrong. That's an order, not a request!" Cain said with a smirk.

Suddenly vibrations filled the hall. The boys' legs shivered. Their instincts screamed, and they realized it wasn't an earthquake but the power Cain had released to intimidate the system.

[O-OK… OK, sir,] the system muttered in fear, glitching.

[Can… can… cannot handle the strain. System shutting dow…n.]