Zilbagias the Demon Prince: How the Seventh Prince Brought Down the Kingdom Volume 1 [Parts 1 to 9] by Tomoaki Amagi

Author:Tomoaki Amagi
Language: eng
Format: epub

The next day, I was good to go to start learning Naming.

“Count Owarg, former chief of the Orgi family, will be your instructor,” Prati explained, having arrived in my room not long after I woke up.

The titles of “chief” and “count” contrasted pretty drastically. I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of guy this instructor would turn out to be. Considering the friction between the different demon tribes, a chief teaching me came as quite the surprise. I can’t lie, the Demon King himself teaching me did cross my mind.

“His Majesty has other matters to attend to,” Prati vented her frustrations as we ate our waking meal. Sophia later filled me in that the other mothers had schemed together to keep him occupied, saying “they didn’t want him squandering his time with someone who may share no relation.”

I went to the parade ground. It seemed learning Naming required a lot more room to work with. The Demon King’s castle was carved out of a mountain made of marble, the spacious clearing at its foot was repurposed into a parade ground. Demons, beastfolk, night elves, even ogres trained endlessly here. Their mock battles rivaled the intensity of real bouts.

“Ah! You have arrived!”

But today, those warriors had been relegated to a small corner of the clearing, while a man waited for my arrival in the center. He was wearing frilly, extravagant clothing that reeked of aristocracy, though it was obvious at a glance the clothes didn’t fit him at all. He held a bone spear with an obsidian tip. Dark red paint drew a menacing design on his face. The shoulders of his armor were made from the skulls of two large carnivores. Completing the look was a necklace of withered ears, taken from a number of different races.

So this bearded, muscly old man was Count Owarg? The frilly clothing did little to hide the fact that he looked like a savage. No one in the entire castle came close to flawlessly pulling off the stereotypical savage look like this guy.

“Count Owarg is a well-established veteran, turning 280 years old this year. He takes a lot of pride in our ancient customs and traditions,” Prati’s eyes wandered, her voice sounding like she was talking around something stuck in her throat. It seemed the relatively young demons like her had some strong opinions about some of the older aspects of demon culture. Maybe they didn’t want to come to terms with the fact demons were nothing but savages just a few generations ago.

“Oho ho ho! So you are Zilbagias!” Stomping up alongside us as we reeled in shock from his appearance, Owarg took a moment to observe me from head to toe. “I heard you were just five years old, yet you’re quite a big lad! It is no wonder your heritage has been called into question! Gah ha ha ha ha!”

If anything is big here it’s your voice, old man. It’s like someone is throwing right hooks at my skull. That’s the kind of voice made for booming across battlefields.

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