Lucivar Thornheart stood in silence, staring at the towering demon kneeling before him—Kharon, his first creation. Ten feet of raw, abyss-forged power wrapped in obsidian muscle and glowing crimson veins, Kharon radiated an overwhelming presence. And yet… it wasn't fear or awe that held Lucivar's attention now.
It was recognition.
Or rather, the lack of it.
A strange stillness settled in his chest as he realized something that should have come to him far earlier. His crimson eyes—sharper now, deeper than blood—narrowed as his thoughts turned inward.
"I never really looked at myself."
From the moment he awoke in this world, so much had happened—so fast, so violently. His soul had devoured power, awakened abilities, restructured his very nature. He had walked into conflict, bound a demon with nothing more than will, and assumed command of death like he was born to do it.
But through all of it, he had never stopped. Never paused to look in the mirror—not metaphorically, not physically.
He thought back to his first encounter with Kohvour—before he became Kharon. The demon hadn't immediately submitted. In fact, Lucivar recalled a certain boldness in the way Kohvour had stood, even while bleeding out. He hadn't looked terrified. Weakened, yes—but not truly afraid.
That should have been a sign.
"I must not have looked like much yet," Lucivar muttered under his breath, lips curling in a dry smile. "I assumed the change wasn't too drastic. Clearly, I was wrong."
Now, as he gazed into Kharon's burning eyes, Lucivar couldn't ignore what he had become.
His skin, once mortal and soft, had hardened—smooth, pale bronze flesh that gleamed faintly under the low light, no longer reflecting warmth but radiating power. His features were sharper, more regal than human—cheekbones like carved stone, jawline sculpted by divine cruelty. Black hair fell in long strands across his shoulders, framing a face that held both youth and ageless dread. And those eyes—those unholy, vivid red eyes—glowed like twin gates to an inferno. Intricate swirls and flares shimmered within them, as if a nebula of violence and eternity had settled in his gaze.
No mortal could look into those eyes and see a man.Only a monarch of monsters.
And it wasn't just his body. It was his presence. The way the air darkened around him. The way silence clung to his every movement. The way even shadows seemed to hesitate when he passed.
He was no longer something that belonged to a single world. He had become something more—an origin. A point from which legends would either kneel… or burn.
Lucivar exhaled slowly, almost laughing at himself.
"I didn't check because I was afraid of how much I'd changed," he whispered. "But now… I realize I've changed for the better."
Before him, Kharon remained motionless, awaiting command. A demon of war. A knight of the abyss.
But Lucivar knew that this was only the beginning.
Because as terrifying as Kharon was…
He was still just the first.
Lucivar Thornheart stood silently, the shadows licking at his ankles as Kharon remained kneeling before him like a statue carved from war and fire. The silence between them stretched, heavy with tension and power—yet unspoken trust hummed in the air like a low current. Then, Lucivar broke the stillness.
His crimson eyes narrowed faintly, voice cold and stripped of emotion.
"Kharon... do you know what time it is?"
His tone was hollow, devoid of curiosity or warmth. A voice that demanded answers, not conversation. And yet, in that moment—just for a flicker—Lucivar could have sworn he sensed something.
A ripple.
A pulse of faint, restrained joy radiating from the kneeling demon's massive frame. It was subtle, nearly imperceptible, like a heartbeat buried beneath the silence. Joy? In a creature birthed only minutes ago? The thought lingered, strange and unsettling.
Kharon finally spoke, his voice deep—like gravel soaked in fire, yet calm and precise.
"It is the end of the Edo Period," he said, his head still bowed. "The final years of the Tokugawa Shogunate."
Lucivar's eyes widened slightly—not in shock, but in satisfaction. So that's where they dropped me.
More than 50… maybe even 75 years before the main story begins.
Lucivar's expression shifted as the realization fully took hold. The air stilled, as if the very world was holding its breath. Kharon's voice echoed once more in his thoughts, steady and precise.
"It is the end of the Edo Period. The final years of the Tokugawa Era."
Lucivar remained silent, letting that truth anchor itself—not with panic, but with calm, consuming purpose. It meant he had decades before the Demon Slayer saga would stir. Decades before slayers took to the streets. Decades before Muzan's shadow rose in full.
Decades to build.To master.To conquer.
He turned slowly, eyes drifting toward the dusky sky. The wind brushed against his cloak, and in it, he saw a storm. Not one he would endure—but one he would cause.
"More than half a century," he whispered, voice like velvet over steel. "More than enough time to master every inch of my arsenal… every technique… every forbidden art ever whispered by the void."
And still, one thought pulled at him.
One word.
[World Travel: Locked]
It remained, untouched and unanswered. Since the moment he awoke, it had haunted the bottom of his interface—silent, unmoving, inviolable.
No explanation. No hint. No voice. No change.
But now…
He felt something.
A pull in his chest. A whisper in his blood. A thread from the far edge of instinct.
It wasn't reason. It wasn't logic.
It was truth.
The system wasn't waiting for his level. It wasn't testing his patience.
It was waiting for impact.
Lucivar's lips curved into a slow, razor-sharp smirk. His crimson gaze sparked with dangerous promise, the nebula within his eyes pulsing like prophecy.
"So that's what you want…" he whispered to the empty air. "You want me to shake the foundation of this world."
He didn't need confirmation.
Whether it meant devouring Muzan, rewriting the demon hierarchy, or breaking fate itself—it didn't matter.
The system was watching.
And when the moment came?
The lock would break.The gate would open.And every world… every era… every god… would learn the name Lucivar Thornheart.
[Kharon – Subordinate Status Sheet]
Name: Kharon
Race: Demon Dreadknight
Loyalty: 100% – Absolute
Status: Soul-Bound to Lucivar Thornheart
Evolution Class: Infinite
Sunlight Resistance: Perfect
Rebellion Possibility: 0% – Loyalty locked beyond all dimensional influence
Unique Traits:
Covenant Core – Loyalty cannot be altered, corrupted, rewritten, or bypassed by any known force, magic, deity, or law.
Primordial Sealbearer – As the first demon ever created, Kharon bears a metaphysical seal that accelerates his evolution, grants partial erasure immunity, and acts as the living template for all future demons.
Demon Art:
Abyssflame Dominion
Type: Offensive / Abyssal FlameDescription:
Unholy fire born from the Abyss, Abyssflame burns through divine protections, elemental resistances, spiritual barriers, and regeneration alike. It cannot be extinguished by any natural, magical, or sacred means.
Combat Role: Heavy Suppression / Commander-Class ExecutionerBloodline Anchor: Yes – All lesser demons instinctively submit to Kharon in Lucivar's absence.
Description:
Kharon is not simply a servant. He is the firstborn terror, the black standard of Lucivar's coming empire. Forged from a dying soul and rebuilt in perfect loyalty, he towers with molten veins, endless evolution, and instinct honed like a blade. His mind is war. His body is judgment. His existence is prophecy.
He is not just a knight.
He is the legacy of a god in the making, made flesh in fire and bound by oath.
And he is only the beginning.