Journey to the underworld: How I became the demon king

Waking up, I found myself in a bizarre and desolate realm. The air was heavy with whispers of anguish, and the ground beneath me seemed to writhe with the shadows of unforgiven souls. Their hollow eyes glared at me as though accusing me of sins I didn't remember committing.

I turned in circles, my heart pounding as I tried to comprehend this nightmarish reality. A chilling thought crept into my mind: Was this death?

Taking a shaky breath, I whispered to the void, "What is this place?". Soon a strange figure appeared.

The figure studied me for a moment, as though weighing my worth. "As you are now, you would not last a day in the Underworld," they said, their voice a mix of pity and disdain. "The Demon King would crush you before you could even utter a word of defiance."

A chill ran down my spine. "Then why give me a choice?" I asked, frustration slipping into my tone.

"Because every candidate deserves a fighting chance," they replied, their skeletal hand gesturing toward the endless void. "Your fate is not sealed yet. But if you wish to survive, you must be forged in the fires of Purgatorio."

"Forged?" I echoed, confused.

"Trained," they clarified, stepping closer. "This place is more than a realm of torment—it is a crucible. Only those who can harness their will to overcome its trials are deemed worthy of descending further."

The thought of being hunted in the Underworld filled me with dread, but something deep within me stirred—a flicker of determination. "Fine," I said, my voice steadying. "I'll train. What do I need to do?"

The figure's hollow eyes glimmered faintly. "Endure. Learn. Survive. And remember—power in Purgatorio is not granted; it is earned."

Then the figure raised their hand, and the oppressive darkness around us twisted, coiling like a living thing. Before I could react, the ground beneath me crumbled, and I plunged into a chasm of searing heat and biting cold. My screams were swallowed by the void, and when I finally landed, the impact knocked the breath from my lungs.

The air here was heavy, thick with the stench of sulfur and decay. My head spun as I pushed myself up, my hands sinking into the ash-like ground. I blinked, trying to make sense of my surroundings. Towering cliffs loomed in every direction, their jagged edges glowing faintly red, as though alive with magma coursing beneath the surface.

"Lesson one: Survival," the figure's voice echoed from nowhere and everywhere all at once. "This realm will break you if you let it. Learn to endure, or be consumed."

I staggered to my feet, my legs trembling under the weight of the suffocating atmosphere. Before I could catch my breath, the ground beneath me trembled, and cracks began to form, glowing with an eerie, pulsing light. Something was stirring beneath.

"What now?" I muttered, panic rising as the cracks widened.

The answer came in the form of a monstrous claw bursting through the ground. It was followed by an abomination—a creature with an elongated, skeletal body, its hollow eyes blazing with crimson light. It screeched, the sound slicing through my eardrums like a thousand shards of glass.

"Fight or flee," the figure's voice echoed again. "Only one choice will grant you the strength to move forward."

I froze, every fiber of my being screaming at me to run. But something held me back. I clenched my fists, my pulse pounding in my ears. If I fled now, what hope did I have of surviving the Underworld?

The creature lunged, and instinct took over. I dove to the side, the ground exploding where I had stood moments before. My mind raced. No weapons. No powers. Just me and this thing.

"Endurance," the figure had said. I gritted my teeth and braced myself. If I was going to survive, I needed to figure out how to outlast it.

The creature's movements were erratic but devastating. Each strike shook the very ground beneath me, and every dodge left me gasping for air. My body ached, my legs burned, and my mind screamed for relief.

But I didn't stop.

This wasn't just a fight; it was a test. I didn't know how long I could keep going, but if I collapsed now, it would all be over. The figure's voice echoed in my mind: "Endure."

As I evaded another bone-shattering blow, a realization dawned on me. Surviving wasn't just about brute strength or speed—it was about understanding. Watching. Learning.

With every attack, the creature revealed a pattern, a slight pause before it lunged, a twitch before it swung its claws. I had to use that.

Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself. "Alright, you bastard," I muttered, my voice hoarse. "Let's see what you've got."