I Reincarnated As The Lazy Demon King's Butler

The Trial of Dominance was no longer a battle.

It was a lesson.

A lesson in fear.

A lesson in power.

And by the time it ended, the Beastkin would never forget it.

The Last Fight of the Warlords

The war drums pounded, echoing across the volcanic pit of Ironfang Hold. The surrounding warriors howled, their voices merging into a frenzied roar of bloodlust.

Three warlords—Kael, Xyra, Gorvak.

One outsider—Elias Voss.

Only one would stand at the end.

Kael snarled, his lion fangs bared, charging forward with the force of a raging storm.

Xyra disappeared into the shadows, vanishing from sight.

Gorvak remained still, waiting, watching, calculating his moment to strike.

And Elias?

He did not move.

The flames around the pit flickered. Dimmed.

The air felt heavier.

And for the first time, the Beastkin warriors—who had lived by strength, who had fought wars for centuries—felt something unnatural creeping into their bones.

Doubt.

Kael Falls First

The lion warlord's attack was perfect.

A full-speed charge, a devastating claw strike aimed to tear Elias in half.

There was no dodging. No blocking.

Elias should have been ripped apart.

But the moment Kael's claws touched him—

They did not land.

Kael froze.

His body locked in place, his eyes widening, his breath caught in his throat.

Because Elias was gone.

Kael's claws sliced through empty air.

And then—Elias whispered into his ear.

"Too slow."

Kael's heart slammed against his ribs.

He spun around—but Elias was already behind him.

A single touch. A gentle press of two fingers against Kael's back.

And then—

Kael's legs collapsed beneath him, as if Elias had the touch of order and absolute command.

His body hit the ground.

He tried to rise—but he couldn't.

His muscles refused to obey. His breathing grew shallow. His vision blurred.

His entire body shut down.

Not from pain. Not from injury.

But from something else.

Something wrong.

Something that should not be possible.

The roaring crowd fell into silence.

Kael—the strongest warlord of the Beastkin— had fallen.

And Elias?

He had not thrown a single punch.

Xyra Never Stood a Chance

Xyra watched from the shadows, gripping her daggers so tightly her hands shook.

She was fast. Deadly. Precise.

And yet—she hesitated.

Because what she had just seen was not strength.

It was something else.

Something that did not belong in this world.

For the first time in her life, she questioned if she could win.

For the first time, she felt fear.

And that was when Elias turned toward her.

His golden eyes locked onto hers.

And Xyra felt her breath leave her lungs.

She had fought demons, monsters, assassins. She had stood before death a hundred times.

But she had never felt like this.

Like she had been caught in a trap she didn't know existed.

Like she had already lost.

Like she was not the predator anymore.

She moved before she could think.

Daggers flashing, a perfect kill strike—

And then Elias was gone.

Not dodging. Not running.

Just somewhere else.

And before Xyra could process it, before her instincts could tell her what was happening—

Elias was behind her.

His breath brushed her ear.

"You should have run."

The last thing she felt was a cold hand pressing against the back of her neck.

And then—

Everything went black.

Her body hit the ground, completely unconscious.

No wounds. No pain.

As if her very existence had been silenced.

Gorvak Surrenders

The bear warlord stood alone.

He had not moved once during the battle.

Now, as Kael and Xyra lay motionless on the ground, he simply exhaled.

And for the first time in decades, he felt small.

He had fought kings. He had crushed rebellions.

But as he looked at the man standing before him—

He understood.

This was not a battle.

This was a coronation.

He took a slow breath.

Then—

Gorvak knelt.

The crowd stared.

And then, one by one, the warriors of the Beastkin followed.

Thousands of warriors, each one hardened by blood and battle, each one bred to follow only the strongest—

All knelt.

Not to a warlord.

Not to a king.

To Elias Voss.

And as he stood there, feeling the weight of an entire kingdom bowing before him,

The whispers returned.

Soft. Cold.

Pleased.

Watching.

And this time, for the first time—

Elias thought he almost understood.

A Throne Taken Without a Fight

By the time Kael and Xyra regained consciousness, it was over.

Elias stood at the top of Ironfang Hold, the Beastkin throne now his.

Kael, dazed and unsteady, refused to meet his gaze.Xyra, for all her pride, would not speak.Gorvak merely watched. Studied.

No one challenged him again.

Because no one understood what had just happened.

Elias had not fought them.

He had ended them.

With nothing but whispers and touch.

With something that should not exist.

And the Beastkin—who only followed strength—had knelt.

Not because Elias was strong.

But because he was something beyond it. Maybe I revealed too much....