In my previous world, the demonkind were blessed with a powerful Magic Core they could use to cast powerful spells. Demon Kings were special among all demonkind. They were gifted with an immense Magic Core that turned them into living weapons. Wide-area destruction was always left behind when we engaged in battle; as such, we never needed to summon powerful creatures in battle.

It was not as if we lacked the knowledge to do it. No, the problem was that the summons were… energy hungry. These abominable creatures required a huge amount of Magic Energy to be called into this world, and depending on the type they were, some of them actually needed to be fed constantly.

Demon Kings did not go on cruises or take vacations. My past life’s whole repertoire of entertainment activities included reading in the library, reading reports, and the occasional long-distance espionage of the human settlements around the border of the demon territory. The last part could be counted as work too, but it was the fun part of work.

Combat was not fun for me. It was work. Military activities were also not fun for me; they were work. I did not really enjoy fighting or flaunting my power as much as the previous Demon King did, but when it came down to it… I was merciless.

By the time I reached the age of three, I understood what was happening to this world, why there were so many weird magics around.

In a few words: this was a different world from the one in which I was a Demon King.

Initially, I concluded that mankind managed to evolve their spells and technology way beyond what my scouts had discovered in my past life as a direct result of demonkind getting weaker without me. If it was not this, then one of the gods intervened directly and elevated their technology because they had nothing better to do or wished to change the playground on which demonkind was butchered.

A warm embrace, constant care and protection were my new environment. The humans around me took care of my every need. The moment this disgustingly weak body of mine let out a cry, someone came over and fed me or wiped my bottom.

Sometimes, I ate from a bottle and other times from the breasts of my mother. As her baby, I felt no shame, just the need for food and the warm protective embrace she held me in. Her voice comforted me and made me fall asleep with ease.

We never asked to be created. We never begged for the gift of life, yet… we were generously offered the power to take it from others.

When we opened our eyes, we were told to kill… to hunt… to die… and to be hunted down.

We were animals…

We were prey…

We still dreamed… a dream that lacked hope and desire… a simple one…