It had been only a few days since the birth of the empire's youngest princess, yet the imperial palace already revolved around her existence. Servants hovered at all hours, nobles sent gifts by the cartload, and even hardened guards softened whenever they caught a glimpse of her small form. Minato Miyamoto was adored relentlessly, rarely left alone for even a moment.
Unfortunately for everyone involved… Minato was not an ordinary baby.
She was the reincarnation of the Demon Lord Raiden Enma-Ō, the ruler who had plunged the world into fear and terror for five centuries. Though her body was frail and helpless, her mind remained the same, and deeply irritated.
And it was safe to say that Minato was pissed about her situation.
Being trapped in the body of a newborn was humiliating beyond words. She couldn't walk. She couldn't speak properly. She couldn't even free herself from the ridiculous, overly frilled clothing the servants insisted on dressing her in. Worse still, she was constantly surrounded—hovered over, coddled, and handled like a fragile ornament.
Even her new "family" was beginning to grate on her nerves.
"If only…
If only I had my original body,
Any body would do… just not this one!"
Minato screamed in frustration, her tiny fists flailing as rage boiled over inside her.
To everyone else in the room, however, it was nothing more than a newborn throwing a tantrum.
A female servant rushed forward, smiling nervously as she attempted to soothe the princess. Before she could react, a small wooden toy flew through the air and struck her squarely on the forehead.
"Ow—!"
A male servant stared, wide-eyed. "Did the young princess really move like that…? She was only born a few days ago…"
Minato scowled, already reaching for another projectile.
Before she could throw it, a pair of gentle arms lifted her from the floor.
"Mina… that's not very nice." The voice was soft and familiar.
The Empress stood before them, despite having no business being out of bed so soon after childbirth. Her long black hair fell loosely around her shoulders, and her lilac eyes carried both exhaustion and fond amusement.
"Your Majesty!?" the male servant exclaimed. "You shouldn't be up and walking yet!"
"It's quite alright," the Empress replied calmly. "I only came to collect my little one. We'll take a nap together."
She glanced apologetically at the servants. "I'm sorry for all the trouble she's caused."
Minato glared up at her, unimpressed.
"Did you have fun, little one?" the Empress teased softly, smiling down at her daughter. "Let's rest before dinner. Your older siblings have been dying to meet you."
Cradled against her mother's chest, Minato reluctantly allowed herself to be carried away.
===============
Later that afternoon, silence filled the Emperor and Empress's private chambers.
Akemi Miyamoto slept peacefully on the bed, her breathing slow and steady. Beside her lay Minato, awake and staring at the woman who had given her this body.
"So… this is the human woman who gave birth to me," Minato thought coolly. Her gaze traced Akemi's features. "It seems I truly inherited her appearance."
She frowned.
"Will my siblings resemble us as well? Or that fool they call the Emperor?"
Despite herself, exhaustion crept in.
"Tch… curse this body," she thought bitterly. "If I ever see that hero again… I'll kill him."
She shifted closer as Akemi's arm instinctively wrapped around her.
"…Hmph. At least having this woman as my mother isn't entirely unpleasant." Minato drifted into sleep.
Much later, as the sun sank beneath the golden rooftops of Tenryuu and the palace began to quiet, a shadow moved across the outer walls.
A man dressed in black climbed the stone towers like a spider. His movements were precise, practiced, silent. His face was hidden beneath a cloth mask, and his eyes were hard and focused.
He reached the balcony of the Emperor's private chambers and slipped inside.
The room was dim, lit only by the fading glow of sunset. The Empress slept peacefully. Beside her, the newborn princess lay curled like a small doll.
The assassin's hand tightened around a dagger. His mission was simple: Kill the Empress and the newborn princess.
Erase the imperial bloodline's newest branch before it could ever grow.
He stepped closer and closer.
But the moment his shadow fell over the bed... Minato's eyes opened.
The assassin didn't notice at first. He reached down and seized the infant in one hand, lifting her into the air as if she weighed nothing.
Minato stared into his eyes. Not with fear or confusion, but with hate.
The assassin raised the dagger and the blade plunged downward.
(CRACK!)
The blade of the dagger shatters on impact.
A purple glow exploded outward, filling the room like lightning. The air distorted violently, as though reality itself was bending.
The assassin stumbled backward and fell onto the floor, scrambling away in terror.
The infant was gone, and in her place stood a tall, feminine figure made of blacknes. Glowing purple eyes stared down at him with absolute dominance, like a king gazing upon an insect.
'This will surely use up whatever is left of my original power…'
Her eyes narrowed.
'…but I refuse.'
'I refuse to be killed by some pathetic human for the second time!'
The assassin tried to crawl away, choking on his own panic.
He opened his mouth to scream but Minato's clawed hand shot forward like a blur.
Her fingers clamped over his mouth and throat in one motion, silencing him instantly. She lifted him off the ground with effortless strength, holding him as if he were nothing but a doll.
His legs kicked violently. His hands clawed at her wrist.
"I can't have you doing that now," she said, her voice deep and unnatural, like the echo of a thousand graves. "You came here knowing full well the possibility of death."
The assassin struggled harder, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. His muffled voice pleaded. "W-what the hell are you...?!"
Minato tilted her head slightly, as if amused.
"It's simple, really," she said.
"I'm the Demon Lord."
She raised one finger and pressed it gently against the man's torso.
A beam of dark magic fired instantly.
There was no explosion, no scream. And absolutely no chance to resist.
The assassin's upper body evaporated completely, erased by the darkness as if he had never existed. Only his legs and one severed hand remained, collapsing onto the floor with a sickening thud.
The blast tore through the room, ripping apart the wall and obliterating part of the balcony. Curtains shredded. Stone cracked. The air filled with dust and debris.
The darkness vanished and the horned figure collapsed inward, shrinking.
In the next moment, Minato's demonic form disappeared completely, leaving only a small baby sitting on the floor amidst the wreckage.
She could feel it, her power slipping away like water through her fingers. 'Damn it…'
She clenched her tiny hands. 'I used too much…'
The Empress woke with a sharp gasp, her instincts screaming at her before her mind could even catch up. She sat up in bed, eyes widening as she realized something was wrong.
The room was destroyed, the balcony was gone. And her baby…
"Minato!?" Akemi cried.
At that moment, the doors burst open.
Palace guards stormed into the room with weapons drawn, faces filled with alarm and confusion. They froze at the sight of the devastation.
"Your Majesty!"
"What happened!?"
Akemi's eyes darted wildly until she spotted her daughter sitting on the floor, small and trembling in the rubble.
Minato stared up at her.
And then…
She began to cry.
Not rage disguised as tantrum.
It was the helpless cry of a child who had just burned away the last remnants of her former strength.
Akemi rushed forward, ignoring the guards, ignoring the destruction, ignoring her own weak body. She scooped Minato into her arms and held her close.
"It's alright," she whispered shakily, tears forming in her eyes. "It's alright… Mama's here."
Minato's cries echoed through the ruined chamber.
And in the arms of her mother, the reincarnated Demon Lord trembled silently.
Because she knew the truth.
Her power…
The power that once made the world kneel was almost completely gone.
And for the first time since her rebirth.
Minato Miyamoto felt something she hadn't felt in five hundred years.
Weak.