"Take a deep breath… don't panic," he muttered, dragging in air as if forcing his body to listen.
It didn't help much, but it was enough to stop his thoughts from completely spiraling. This wasn't the time to freak out. If anything, this was the time to think properly, even if everything about the situation screamed otherwise.
First—this wasn't his body. That part was obvious without needing proof, and once he accepted it, the next conclusion followed whether he liked it or not.
His original body was gone.
Dead.
Second, he hadn't died naturally. He was twenty-three, perfectly fine, not sick, not weak, nothing that should've killed him. That ruled out anything normal.
Which meant,
Someone was responsible.
The thought settled in hard, because anything else felt like denial. This wasn't an accident. It couldn't be.
Third, the timing lined up too cleanly to ignore. He had just read that chapter, seen his name written there, that line asking him to change the story, and then everything went black. Now he was here, inside that same novel.
That wasn't coincidence.
Not even close.
And finally,
He exhaled slowly, the last realization settling in like weight.
He wasn't just in the novel.
He had become Demon King Cassian Valerius—the final boss of The Rise of the Despised Hero, and once that settled in his mind, there was nothing left to question or reinterpret.
That alone defined everything that followed, because becoming the Demon King didn't just give him power or status, it locked him into a role with a fixed ending.
A role that ended in death.
His jaw tightened slightly as that settled, not out of fear, but out of recognition, because he had already lost one life without warning, without control, and without any chance to resist.
He wasn't letting that repeat.
This life was his now, and he intended to keep it.
Which narrowed everything down to a single obstacle that couldn't be ignored or avoided.
The hero.
A royal nobody at the beginning, with no claim to anything, thrown into the academy and dismissed by everyone around him, only to rise step by step through power, influence, and awakening until he stands at the top.
And in the end, the one who kills him.
One thing tilted the situation in his favor, and it wasn't small.
He knew the story.
Not fragments, not guesses, but the full sequence—how things unfolded, where they went wrong, and how it all ended. On top of that, this body wasn't weak or incomplete. Cassian Valerius wasn't just powerful.
He was a monster.
A once-in-ten-thousand-years existence, the kind that broke the need for rules entirely. Magic didn't require study. Swordsmanship didn't need training. Power wasn't something he built over time—it was something he already stood at the peak of.
An absolute ceiling.
That was how the world described him.
The entire demon realm had been forced into unity under that strength.
Thousands of powerful demons had resisted him at the start, each one strong enough to rule on their own, and every single one of them had been crushed until resistance stopped being an option and submission became the only choice.
That was the position he occupied now.
Not rising toward it.
Already there.
His fingers tapped lightly against the armrest, his thoughts settling into something sharper as the last piece clicked into place.
"The only reason he died…" Cassian murmured, voice low and steady, "was because he got backstabbed like an idiot."
That wasn't arrogance. It was a flaw in judgment.
"Even with that holy sword, the hero wouldn't have stood a chance in a straight fight,"
But that didn't mean the solution was simple.
Killing the hero outright wasn't an option.
He remembered that part clearly, and it mattered more than raw power ever could. Heroes in that world didn't function like normal opponents.
They were closer to corrections, something that appeared when a Demon King existed, as if the world itself refused to leave the balance unchecked.
Kill one too early, and another would rise.
Erase the current one, and the next would take his place.
It wasn't a cycle you could break through brute force, and interfering too directly would only distort the sequence he already knew, turning every advantage he had into useless information.
And even reaching that point wasn't simple.
The hero wasn't alone.
The goddess watched.
Not constantly, not in ways that could be easily predicted, but enough to intervene when something crossed the line of what the world considered "unnatural."
A death that wasn't meant to happen, a result that disrupted the flow too early—those were the moments where interference came.
Which meant killing the hero too early wasn't just ineffective, it was dangerous in ways brute force couldn't fix.
But that didn't leave him without options.
There was something else.
The holy sword.
That was the real problem, not the hero himself. Take that away, and the so-called "chosen one" dropped from inevitable threat to something far more manageable, stripped of the one advantage that let him stand against a monster like Cassian.
Which meant the solution was simple in concept, even if execution wouldn't be.
Get the sword first.
Remove it from the story before the hero ever reached it, before the narrative could lock it into his hands and turn it into something unavoidable. Once it was gone, truly gone, the entire balance shifted.
Throw it somewhere no one could reach.
Somewhere beyond recovery.
Space, the void, anywhere that erased it from the world completely.
And if the goddess interfered—if she stepped in to correct the disruption—then there was still one fallback left, one option that didn't rely on power or confrontation.
Disappear.
Fake his death, abandon the role entirely, and step out of the story before it closed in on him.
It wasn't ideal.
But it was survival.
A faint smile formed as the plan settled into place, clean, efficient, workable. For the first time since waking up, the situation didn't feel like a trap.
It felt manageable.
Then something interrupted that thought.
The second part of the novel.
The detail surfaced again, dragging his attention away from the plan he had just built, and this time it didn't sit right.
Something had descended from the sky.
Something that didn't belong to the original flow of the story.
And it had wiped them out.
The hero.
His companions.
People who, by that point, stood at the peak of the world.
Which meant whatever came down hadn't just been strong.
It had been overwhelming.
Stronger than everything the story had built up to.
The faint smile faded without resistance as that realization settled in, replacing certainty with something colder, more cautious.
If something like that existed, then the problem wasn't just the hero anymore, because that meant there were other things in this world just as dangerous—if not worse.
"What the hell even came down…" he muttered, the question heavier now, lingering in his mind without an answer.
Before he could follow the thought any further, a strained voice came from outside, already on the verge of failing to hold the situation together.
***
"His Majesty doesn't want to meet anyone right now—"
The old butler didn't get to finish.
The doors blasted open, crashing against the walls with a force that echoed through the chamber and cut him off completely.
Someone stepped in, a figure that at first glance looked like a woman, but the details settled quickly, revealing something far from human—not just a woman, but a succubus.
Lilith.
She walked forward without hesitation, completely ignoring the interruption she had caused, as if this kind of entrance was normal for her.
Her long white hair flowed behind her, and the dress she wore clung tightly to her body, leaving little to imagination. Bat-like wings rested behind her, barely moving, while her pointed ears and sharp eyes gave her an unmistakable presence.
She was, without question, one of the most beautiful demons one could encounter.
And there were plenty who admired her for that alone.
Cassian watched her approach. His expression barely shifting, but his thoughts had already turned.
Why did this problem show up now…
Her appearance wasn't unexpected in general, but the timing couldn't have been worse.
Lilith wasn't just another demon drawn by power or status. She was ambitious to the point of being dangerous, someone who didn't hide what she wanted. Her goal had always been the same—to become the ruler of the demon realm.
And the easiest way to do that was through him.
Marriage.
She had pushed for it repeatedly, never subtle about her intentions, always approaching it like it was inevitable rather than a possibility.
Cassian already knew how that ended.
In the original plot, she was the one who betrayed him.
That single fact was enough to kill any interest before it could even exist.
No matter how beautiful she looked, no matter how many others were drawn to her, Cassian saw her for what she was—a risk that stayed close, waited patiently, and struck when it mattered most.
The idea of trusting her was laughable.
Sleeping beside someone like that wasn't comfort.
It was waiting for the moment the blade finally came out.
"Cassian, why did you reject my marriage proposal?" Lilith asked, her gaze fixed on him, the only woman in the entire realm who would dare address the Demon King by name.
For a split second, the answer came to him plainly.
Because I don't like you.
He almost said it.
But he stopped himself.
That kind of honesty would be stupid here.
Lilith wasn't someone who would take rejection lightly, and pushing her directly would only create problems he didn't need right now. She had influence, followers, and more importantly, the kind of charm that could turn half the demon realm in her favor if she decided to make this personal.
Starting a conflict with her this early could spiral into something worse.
Cassian exhaled slowly, then stood up from the throne.
"Well," he began, his tone calm, "it's because I want you to have this throne."
Lilith's expression shifted almost immediately, the confidence in her eyes faltering for just a fraction of a second, not just confusion but clear disbelief breaking through.
For nearly a decade, she had pushed for this marriage, and every time it ended the same way—with rejection. That was why this response didn't make sense.
Offering her the throne? From him? The same demon who valued his throne above everything, who had crushed anyone who even hinted at challenging his authority.
"Say it again…"
Cassian didn't hesitate.
"You heard it right," he replied, tone steady. "I was thinking of stepping away for a while—five years, maybe. Travel, see how things stand beyond the demon realm. During that time, I'll need someone capable to manage things here."
He let the words sit, watching her reaction carefully.
Inside, his thoughts were far less composed.
Yeah, I don't want this damn job.
Ruling sounded powerful on the surface, but from what he could already tell, it came with endless responsibilities, constant threats, and zero peace. If there was a way to step away without everything collapsing, he was more than willing to take it.
If she wants it that badly, she can deal with it.
Lilith didn't respond immediately.
Her gaze sharpened instead, shifting from surprise to calculation as she measured his words. For demons, five years was nothing, barely more than a short absence, which made his offer feel incomplete rather than generous.
"What happens after those five years?"
"After that,"
"I'll consider your proposal again. If things work out, you can take your place as queen of the demon realm."
Five years was a long time, long enough for the entire world to turn upside down, and there was no guarantee he'd still be in the same position or that things would play out the same way. But for now, this was enough to get this annoying woman off his back.
"So what you're saying," Lilith asked, her gaze steady and probing, "is that you'll give me the throne… and all the authority of the Demon King."
Cassian didn't answer from the front.
Because he wasn't there anymore.
A silent shift placed him behind her, close enough that his presence alone brushed against her senses.
"Yeah," he said near her ear, voice low and smooth, carrying a deliberate edge, "you were always intelligent, Lilith… strange that you're hesitating now, when everything you wanted is right in front of you."
He let the moment stretch just enough before adding,
"Is it because you missed me… or because you wanted me more than the throne?" he asked, tone edged with deliberate provocation, knowing exactly how much Lilith despised men and pushing just enough to irritate her, counting on that annoyance to cloud her judgment and make her act instead of overthinking the offer.
Instead, Lilith smiled.
Slow, knowing, unfazed.
She turned in one clean motion, closing the distance completely as her arms slid around him, pulling herself against him without hesitation, her body pressing firmly into his as if the situation had already shifted in her favor.
Cassian paused for a fraction of a second, not because he couldn't react, but because it wasn't the response he aimed for.
And he was a little disappointed. He would've enjoyed that "heavenly" situation—but the damn armor made sure he felt none of it.
"Why don't we settle this first?" Lilith murmured, her voice softer now, but laced with intent as her fingers traced lightly along his shoulder, testing, teasing, "have one… interesting night together."
Her eyes met his, steady, confident, completely unshaken.
"Then you can go and do whatever it is you're planning."
Cassian didn't respond.
Not outwardly, keeping his expression steady and unreadable, but inside the reaction was immediate and absolute, shutting the thought down before it could even take shape.
No.
Not happening.
There was no way he was stupid enough to spend a night with a succubus, especially not her. This wasn't about temptation or self-control, it was about knowing exactly what that kind of contact meant in this world.
Succubi didn't just seduce.
They took.
Energy, influence, leverage—sometimes all at once, depending on how deep you let it go. And Lilith wasn't some low-tier demon playing games.
She was dangerous.
If he let his guard down even once, it wouldn't be a "night."
"No, we shouldn't," Cassian said, slipping out of her arms and putting distance between them.
"And you can stay in the castle until I make it official, or you can leave."
"Then is your bedroom empty?" Lilith asked, her voice light, almost playful, as her finger traced slowly along her lower lip. "I wouldn't mind sharing."
I mind, you temptress. I'm already having a hard time controlling myself. If you enter my bedroom, it's a disaster waiting to happen.
"No need," Cassian said, cutting it short.
He turned and left immediately.