I Reincarnated as a Demon King,I Will Kill Everything

The Pit of Gravity groaned as the runes burned hotter.

Demons screamed under the crushing weight, their bodies pressed into the black stone like insects under a boot. Some coughed blood, others clawed desperately at the ground, trying to stand. Few succeeded.

Above them, I stood with Noa glowing faintly in my gauntlet. My voice cut through the chaos.

"Stand."

The command was simple, yet it weighed heavier than the rune's gravity. The weaker demons trembled, their bones snapping as they tried to obey. But still, they struggled.

Selena prowled along the edge of the pit, halberd scraping sparks. "On your feet, worms. Do not disgrace our lord with your cowardice."

Rena was harsher. She cut at any soldier who faltered, forcing them to defend even while crushed. Her twin blades left shallow cuts across arms and faces. "If you can't fight here, you'll die screaming outside. Choose!"

Nana slammed his shield into the ground. The echo silenced some of the panic. "Hold! A line that breaks is already dead. A shield wall that trembles is nothing. Stand!"

Malrik opened a small rift, releasing chains of bone that whipped across the pit. Each lash punished hesitation, pulling screams from throats already raw. "Pain makes demons," he growled.

Clarissa walked through the carnage like a priestess in a slaughterhouse. She fed blood into the weakest, not to heal, but to keep them alive just long enough to break again. "Drink and remember this agony. It will forge you."

Nysha simply disappeared. Then, at random, shadows strangled or slashed soldiers who had thought themselves safe. Her lesson was silent: nowhere is safe unless you are ready.

The pit became hell inside Hell.

Demons bled, broke, and still dragged themselves upright. Some laughed madly when they finally stood, bodies trembling but eyes burning. Others wept in silence, their will stronger than their flesh.

Noa's voice vibrated in my arm.

"Efficiency increasing. Mortality within acceptable threshold. My Lord, results are brutal but effective."

I narrowed my eyes. "Not enough."

I raised my hand. The runes flared brighter, doubling the weight. Dozens collapsed instantly, their screams cut short as bones shattered. Blood splashed across the black stone.

Selena's grin widened. "Beautiful."

"Stand!" I roared again.

And some did. Against the impossible, a few demons pushed themselves upright, eyes glowing with madness and devotion. Their spines cracked but they refused to fall.

I smiled. "Good. Those are the ones who will carve the Choir apart."

That night, the Pit was silent. The survivors lay half-dead, but their auras burned stronger. The weak had been erased. Only those who endured remained.

I sat alone on the throne of black stone. My body still carried scars from Crowmere, but the weight of command pressed heavier.

Noa hummed quietly. "Training progress: optimal. But external factors rising. My Lord,the other Demon Kings are watching."

I opened my eyes. "Let them watch."

"No," Noa corrected, its tone sharper than usual. "They do not merely watch. They whisper."

The First Envoy arrived three days later.

A figure cloaked in shadows approached the throne. His horns curled like knives, his eyes molten gold. He bowed low, but the weight of his aura showed he was no mere servant.

"My lord of Silence," he said smoothly. "I come on behalf of Lord Varaxis, King of the Third Circle."

I leaned forward, gauntlet pulsing faintly. "Speak."

The envoy's lips curved. "Lord Varaxis congratulates you on your triumph at Crowmere. The Choir's humiliation has echoed through the realms. But he also sends a warning. Too much noise draws blades. He suggests you temper your rise."

The demons in the hall shifted uneasily. Selena gripped her halberd, her eyes narrowing. Rena's hands twitched near her blades.

I chuckled darkly. "Varaxis fears me."

The envoy shook his head. "He fears imbalance. The Demon Kings maintain order through blood and pact. When one rises too fast… others fall."

I rose from the throne. My shadow swallowed the hall, pressing down on every lesser demon until they knelt. The envoy trembled but did not break.

"Tell Varaxis," I said slowly, "that Silence does not temper itself for anyone. If he wishes to test me, he can come himself. And when he does, I'll show him what silence does to fire."

The envoy bowed lower, sweat beading his brow. "As you command, My Lord. I will deliver your words."

He vanished into smoke.

The hall remained tense.

Selena laughed softly. "Another King dares to challenge you? Let him. I want to see his entrails freeze."

Rena spat on the ground. "Cowards. They send envoys instead of blades."

Nana frowned. "This is dangerous. If Varaxis moves against us, the others may join. You risk uniting them."

"That is the point," I said coldly. "Let them unite. Let them all gather. Then I will break them together."

Noa pulsed faintly. "Risk: extreme. Probability of survival against multiple Demon Kings: less than ten percent."

I smirked. "Then I'll rewrite the numbers."

The next week was war without war.

Whispers moved through Hell like wildfire. Varaxis had spoken against me. The other Kings listened. Some laughed, some feared, some sharpened their blades. Envoys came and went, each bearing thinly veiled threats.

"Curb your hunger," one said.

"Share your victories," another suggested.

"Submit to the pact, or be erased," a third warned.

To each, I gave the same answer: silence. My shadows escorted them out, alive but trembling.

Selena delighted in mocking them. Rena wanted to cut them down. Nana urged patience. Zereth, his soul cracked, warned me quietly. "If you make them enemies too quickly, My Lord, you may find yourself alone."

I placed my hand on his shoulder. "Better alone than chained."

He bowed, but his eyes held worry.

One night, as I meditated in the Hall of Silence, the visions came.

Chains wrapped around Hell itself. Chains of fire, of oath, of song. And above them, five thrones. The Demon Kings, each one staring at me. Some in fury, some in curiosity, one in hunger.

Their voices overlapped.

"Too fast."

"Too loud."

"Too dangerous."

And one voice deeper than all the rest:

"Join us… or die."

I opened my eyes, blood dripping from my nose.

Noa whispered, low and calm. "My Lord, the Kings are moving. Prepare yourself."

I grinned, my teeth red. "Good. Let them come. Let Hell itself test me. The Choir has already tasted silence. Now it's the Kings' turn."

The Pit of Gravity the next day was louder than ever.

Demons screamed, fought, bled. Selena froze another platoon in ice hooks. Rena cut through three at once, forcing them to rise again. Malrik dragged a squad into the rift and spat them out broken. Clarissa revived them with blood just to break them again.

I watched it all, gauntlet glowing faintly, my soul trembling on the edge of collapse. But my voice carried steady.

"Stand. Fight. Break. Rise. Again and again. Until you can stand in Silence itself."

And they did.

Because they had no other choice.

That night, as the demons slept in exhaustion, I stood at the highest cliff of the First Layer, gazing across Hell's endless abyss.

The other Demon Kings were out there. Varaxis with his fire. The Beast King with his fangs. The Serpent Queen with her coils. The Rot Monarch with his plague.

And me. The Silent Crown.

Noa's voice was steady in my arm. "My Lord. This path leads to war."

I smiled faintly. "War is the only language Hell understands."

The abyss roared below. The stars of Hell burned red above. And for the first time, I felt the weight of what was coming.

Not just the Choir. Not just the Church.

But the Kings themselves.

And I would silence them all.