Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the bed where Liora wrestled between reality and nightmares. Slaying a dragon felt easier than trying to understand this new life. She stared at the ceiling, already regretting the decision to reincarnate as the daughter of a saint and a paladin. If only she could return to the battlefield, where everything followed much simpler logic...
"Liora, sweetie, breakfast is ready!" her mother's voice rang through the house—sweet and gentle, like only angelic mothers could manage.
Liora… seriously? She still couldn't believe the name. Not once in all her past incarnations had she been called Liora. In Hell, she was General Inferna, the Tireless. No light, only fire and chaos. And now? Liora? It was the complete opposite of everything she knew.
With a resigned sigh, she descended to the kitchen, where her mother, Lúcia, was smiling so brightly it looked like the sun had taken up residence inside her. She was preparing what looked like a celestial feast: fruits, fresh bread, natural juice... Liora thought, I'm not worthy of this. I just wanted a little bit of chaos.
"Good morning, dear!" Lúcia beamed. "Did you sleep well?"
Liora hesitated. Sleep well? She felt like she'd wake up any minute in the middle of a battlefield, with blood in the air and fire at her back.
"Yes, Mom. Like a fallen angel trying to understand the rules of this world."
She wasn't even sure what that meant, but it sounded poetic enough.
"Wonderful! I can feel the light flowing through you!" Lúcia said, so enthusiastic she looked one step away from bursting into a musical number.
Liora stared at the apple on the table, wondering if she could just bite into it and end this wholesome nightmare.
That's when her father, Valério—the ever-shining paladin—entered the kitchen. His radiant cape fluttered behind him, his posture rigid like a statue blessed by the gods of self-importance. He looked like someone who only came alive to deliver speeches about virtue and honor.
Liora suppressed an eye roll and forced a crooked smile.
How was she supposed to tell him she wasn't exactly his daughter, but a reincarnated demon?
Ah yes, just your average heartwarming breakfast chat about demonic past lives.
"Good morning, daughter," Valério said in a voice that sounded pulled straight from How to Be the Perfect Father: Paladin Edition.
"Ready for another day full of light and duty?"
Liora smiled so hard it hurt.
"Of course, Father. Always ready for more light. What would I be without it, right?"
Valério smiled, pleased.
"I'm glad you're so eager! We can train together today. The light you're emitting... it's definitely growing!"
She glanced at the apple again—so suspiciously shiny it looked like it had been enchanted by some unhinged god.
"Right. Training. Me and… an apple. Perfect."
Liora picked up the apple, already bracing for nonsense. Something always happened when she was around.
Just as she was about to take a bite, the apple began to glow. It practically screamed, I'm going to be weird.
This is not normal, Liora thought, eyes narrowing.
"This isn't right," she muttered—but it was already too late.
The apple exploded in a brilliant flash of light. A magical beam shot out, launching it into the air, where it burst into a thousand glittering pieces—like it had been cursed to self-destruct on contact.
"Wow! Such energy! The light really is working through you!" Valério exclaimed, eyes gleaming with pride.
The explosion lit up his face, making him look even more insufferably thrilled.
Liora lay on the floor, now covered in apple shrapnel. She blinked at the fruity carnage on the tiles, then at her ecstatic parents.
"This is it, huh? Light… and destruction."
She wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry.
"Yes, dear," Lúcia said, still glowing with joy.
"I knew you were special. Now, let's clean this up and train later, okay?"
Liora felt despair creeping in. She wanted to scream. Or run off and punch a wyvern.
But instead, she did what any emotionally stable reincarnated demon would do: smiled, laughed awkwardly, and asked:
"Do you guys… happen to have any shade in this house? You know. Just for balance?"
Before anyone could respond, a familiar laugh echoed from outside.
A dark, rumbling laugh that made her bones freeze.
The Demon King.
He was watching. And somehow, Liora knew—he wasn't just here to say hello. He had a plan. And worst of all…
he was enjoying every second of this ridiculous new life.
---
Liora felt the weight of a sinister presence, even from behind the window. The Demon King was there, waiting. And she knew: any moment now, he would make his move.
What did he want this time?
And how, in all the realms, was she supposed to stop being his favorite plaything?