I Reincarnated As The Lazy Demon King's Butler

The ancient battle pit of Ironfang Hold burned with the fury of war.

Three warlords clashed in a brutal storm of steel, claw, and blood, their roars shaking the night as they fought to claim the Beastkin throne.

Kael, the Lion of Thunderfang, struck with the force of a raging tempest, his golden mane streaked with crimson.Xyra, the Moonshadow Huntress, weaved between shadows, her twin daggers finding gaps in armor and flesh alike.Gorvak, the Stonehide Elder, stood unmoving, his great bulk absorbing every blow as he waited for the moment to strike.

The Trial of Dominance had begun.

And then, Elias Voss walked into the arena.

An Outsider Among Warriors

The Beastkin, lost in the frenzy of battle, felt it before they saw him.

A presence. A weight in the air.

The war drums faltered. Warriors near the edge of the pit turned, their eyes widening. The firelight dimmed slightly, as if the night itself had thickened.

And then he stepped forward.

A lone figure in a black coat, hands in his pockets, golden eyes gleaming with eerie calm. He was not armored, not bloodied, not out of breath.

He had come not as a challenger.

He had come as a man who had already won.

The warlords staggered apart, panting, their bodies battered from combat.

Kael wiped blood from his jaw and growled, baring his fangs.

"The hell is this?"

Xyra's ears twitched, her eyes narrowing. "A demon?"

Gorvak simply stared.

He did not speak. He did not move.

He only watched.

And Elias?

Elias smiled.

He raised a single hand and pointed to the throne of Ironfang Hold, carved into the stone above them.

"I'll be taking that."

The Law of the Wilds

For a moment, silence.

Then—laughter.

It started as a chuckle from Kael, then spread to the surrounding warriors. A mocking, rumbling roar of amusement.

"Did I hit my head?" Kael sneered. "Because it sounded like you just claimed the throne, little butler."

Xyra tilted her head. "You're either fearless or suicidal."

Only Gorvak remained silent.

Then a voice—old, weathered, yet carrying the weight of history—spoke from above.

The crowd parted, revealing a white-furred elder, a shaman adorned in beads and wolfbone. His eyes, clouded with age, still held the sharpness of wisdom.

"The law has been spoken," the shaman overseeing the ceremony intoned.

The laughter stopped.

The warriors, once jeering, now stared at Elias with something colder.

Recognition.

Dread.

"The ancient law of the Wilds states: If all claimants to the throne are unworthy, an outsider may stake their claim."

Murmurs rippled through the crowd.

"But this is madness," a warrior muttered."He's not even a Beastkin.""What trickery is this?"

Kael snarled. "And what makes you think we are unworthy, outsider?"

Elias's smirk did not falter. "The fact that you're still fighting for it."

The words hit harder than any strike.

Because they knew.

They had been too evenly matched.

Too bloodied, too worn down, too exhausted to deliver a finishing blow.

They could fight for hours more—but in the end, there would be no ruler left standing.

Elias had waited until this moment.

And now, with his hands clean and his body untouched, he walked into their war and claimed it as his own.

Kael's claws tightened.

Xyra's breath quickened.

And Gorvak, at last, spoke.

"…You reek of something unnatural."

The bear warlord's deep voice cut through the whispers, his dark eyes locked onto Elias.

Kael and Xyra flinched.

Because they had sensed it too.

The wrongness.

The weight in the air.

The firelight flickered strangely around Elias's form, the shadows seeming too deep, too stretched.

There was something about him.

Something not quite demon, not quite human.

Something that should not be here.

And yet, here he was.

"You don't belong," Gorvak rumbled.

Elias met his gaze, unblinking. "And yet, here I am."

The bear warlord exhaled. "So be it."

He turned to the shaman and nodded.

"The Trial continues."

The Duel of Four

The shaman lifted his staff.

"The outsider challenges for the throne. By ancient law, his claim must be tested. He shall fight as one of you."

The warriors erupted into shouts and howls, some in outrage, some in amusement.

Kael cracked his knuckles. "Fine by me."

Xyra smiled—not with amusement, but with sharp, predatory interest.

Gorvak simply sighed.

The war drum sounded.

And then they attacked.

Kael came first—a beast of raw strength and fury, closing the distance in a heartbeat.

His clawed hand swung like a hammer, aiming to tear Elias apart before he could even move.

But Elias moved before he did.

Not dodging. Anticipating.

His body shifted exactly one inch to the left, letting Kael's strike pass by so close, he felt the wind against his cheek.

Kael's golden eyes widened.

Impossible.

Before he could recover, Xyra was already there.

Her daggers flashed, two precise, rapid strikes aimed for his spine.

He turned.

Not by instinct. Not by chance. By certainty.

His fingers snatched her wrist mid-strike, stopping her blade cold.

Xyra stiffened.

And then—fear crept into her face.

For the first time, she realized—

He wasn't reacting.

He already knew.

Gorvak's massive frame loomed behind him, a strike ready to crush him.

Elias didn't look back.

He simply exhaled.

And as Gorvak's fist came down, Elias was already gone.

Not vanished. Not teleported.

Just moved before it even happened.

The warlords felt it now.

It wasn't speed. It wasn't magic.

It was knowledge.

Knowledge that should not exist.

And as Elias adjusted his sleeves, unbothered, the whispers returned.

They brushed against his mind, unintelligible. Watching. Approving.

Waiting for more.

The warlords stared.

Elias smiled.

"This fight," he said softly, "is already over."

And deep down—

They knew he was right.