MTLNOVEL Chapter 1: 1: Unusual
In an academy reserved for the elite—the pinnacle of intelligence and prosperity—students engaged in lively discussions, their chatter weaving through the air of Class A like an unrelenting tide.
Yet, amidst the ceaseless hum of conversation, one student remained silent. Anos De Luna.
Seated at the very back of the class, his presence was unmistakable. His blazer, unlike the others, bore a distinct color, adorned with numerous accomplishment badges—each a mark of excellence, a testament to his superiority. A silent declaration that he stood above them all.
His sharp, dimly lit brown eyes drifted toward the outside world, seemingly lost in thought. Beneath the flawless visage of his strikingly handsome face, there was something else—a veil of quiet disappointment, a lingering boredom only perceptible to those who dared to look closely.
The reason was simple. This world was dull.
Gone were the days of true chaos and destruction. Society had settled into an era of artificial peace, where nearly 60% of the world basked in tranquility. It was a reality that suffocated him. Anos longed for a world where disorder lurked in every shadow, where suffering was not an anomaly but the norm.
Ever since childhood, he had craved carnage. In his younger years, his favorite pastime had been hunting birds, delighting in their fleeting attempts at escape—until that became too mundane. His fascination soon evolved into experimenting with torture techniques on his captured prey, his mind unraveling the intricate layers of suffering with a curiosity far beyond his years.
Adolescence did nothing to dull his hunger. If anything, it sharpened it. By his teenage years, his thoughts were consumed with perfecting the art of human torment—an obsession shackled only by the constraints of modern society. Bound by its feeble morality, he was forced to repress the darkness that lurked within.
For now.
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The lively chatter in the classroom came to an abrupt halt as an unnatural glow spread across the floor. Strange, intricate markings—etched in patterns far beyond human comprehension—began to manifest, their eerie luminescence demanding the attention of all present. Even Anos De Luna, who rarely indulged in trivial distractions, turned his gaze toward the anomaly.
The markings pulsed, their brilliance intensifying with each passing second. Brighter. Brighter. Brighter. Until, at last, the radiance became unbearable, engulfing the room in a blinding white void that devoured all sight.
Then, as swiftly as it had arrived, the light began to recede.
As vision returned, the students found themselves standing in an entirely different space—one that bore no resemblance to their modern classroom.
Gone were the sterile walls of academia, replaced by towering stone pillars adorned with gilded filigree.
The scent of aged parchment and smoldering torches filled the air, mingling with the faint aroma of incense.
The floors, once dull and unremarkable, were now polished obsidian, reflecting the flickering candlelight that danced along the vast chamber's walls. Velvet banners, embroidered with arcane symbols, hung solemnly from the high ceilings, and the very air carried an aura of ancient mysticism.
A throne sat at the far end of the grand hall, carved from dark marble, its edges adorned with shimmering gemstones that pulsed faintly with unknown power.
The room was majestic, medieval, and otherworldly, its splendor so overwhelming that the students stood frozen, their minds struggling to process the surreal shift in reality.
Yet, despite the grandeur surrounding them, one detail remained unnoticed.
The astonishment in the room was nearly universal—every student seemed captivated by the breathtaking environment. But their awe was misguided.
For none had yet realized the most unsettling truth of all.
Anos De Luna was nowhere to be found.
Anos De Luna's POV
As the strange, glowing markings on the floor pulsed with increasing intensity, my classmates remained fixated on the phenomenon, oblivious to the true anomaly unfolding before me.
For beyond the blinding radiance, I saw her.
A woman of divine beauty—ethereal, intoxicating, inhumanly perfect. Her presence alone exuded a commanding allure, her curvaceous form clad in regal attire that accentuated her flawless figure. Her face, sculpted with otherworldly perfection, bore an expression both enigmatic and knowing, as if she had awaited this moment for eternity.
But what truly seized my attention were her horns—twisting elegantly like those of the demons in ancient legends, a crown of sovereignty over the damned.
Then, she moved.
A mere flicker, a streak of darkness faster than thought—yet, I saw through it.
She rushed toward me, her speed beyond human comprehension, yet to my eyes, every movement was laid bare, every step an open secret. In an instant, her delicate fingers seized my hand—and before I could even process her touch, the world around me shattered.
We vanished.
Though mere mortals would have perceived it as instantaneous, I saw everything.
The moment she grasped my palm, we pierced through the void—stars, galaxies, the very fabric of existence twisting and unraveling around us as we traveled beyond time, beyond space.
Then, just as swiftly, we returned to the surface.
Yet, the world we arrived in was nothing like the one I knew.
An open courtyard stretched before me, bathed in the eerie glow of floating torches that defied the very laws of nature. Towering black spires rose toward a crimson sky, the air thick with an ancient power that sent shivers down my spine.
But more than the scenery, it was the beings that surrounded us that drew my attention.
Dozens—no, hundreds—of figures knelt before us, each bearing a striking resemblance to the woman beside me. Their horns, their obsidian-black wings, their impossibly flawless features—all reminiscent of some forgotten demonic royalty.
Yet, even among them, she stood apart.
She was more elegant. More radiant. More absolute.
And then, just as suddenly as she had taken my hand, I felt its warmth leave me.
I turned toward her—only to witness something even more shocking.
She, too, had knelt.
Her voice, smooth as silk, both seductive and commanding, rang through the air like a song meant only for me.
"I, Iris De Luna, Queen of Demons, greet Anos De Luna—King of Demons, Young Master of the Khaos Clan."
A thunderous chorus followed as the gathered demons lowered their heads in unison.
"We greet the King!"
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