The Crown Prince In Hiding

Salawan Fields—a vast battlefield that stretched as far as the eye could see, separating two opposing territories.

Ten years before the war ended...

A towering demon, standing 2.3 meters tall (7’6), his body encased in armor-like spikes that radiated fear, stood watch. He was unmistakable—three pairs of sharp horns, crimson eyes, a blackened body.

He was the Crown Prince of the Demon Kingdom, Fury.

And before him stood an army of demons, prepared to lay down their lives at his command. They faced off against the humans, clad in shining white and gold armor, galloping toward them on horseback, crosses engraved on their breastplates catching the light.

But as the horses drew closer, they neighed in panic—not because they feared the demons... but because they feared the prince. The paladins had to exert tremendous effort to rein in their mounts. All but one...

A woman with flowing white hair and radiant golden eyes led the humans.

Her skin got a color like a honey.

She stood tall—180 centimeters (5’11)—taller than any female warrior Fury had seen in battle.

Her horse came to a halt right in front of the prince. The sound of clashing armor ceased. The white-haired woman raised her left hand.

“May God sees you.”

Her voice was deep and educated.

Her poise—refined. It spoke of intelligence beyond the ordinary.

Fury raised his hand in return, out of courtesy.

Once her hand lowered, the warrior woman spoke.

“I ask that you withdraw your troops.”

“And I ask that your people step aside and let us resolve this matter.”

Fury’s voice was deep and unnatural—layered with two or three harmonics, like several beings speaking at once. Imagine a person possessed—multiple voices speaking through a single throat. That was the natural tone of his species. Unlike human vocal cords, theirs evolved differently, producing complex resonant tones.

“Our people are dead. Someone must answer for that.”

The prince stood firm.

“The king deeply regrets the tragedy that occurred. He will travel to your kingdom himself to explain.”

“He didn’t even come out to face me, and you expect me to believe that?”

The knights avoided his gaze, discomfort written across their faces. The woman tightened her grip on her reins, composed herself, then said

“His Majesty has fallen ill, Your Grace... smallpox.”

Fury could sense the truth in her concern.

“If we fight now, both sides will suffer. Withdraw your troops, or we’ll all die here, Your highness.”

“Is that a plea?”

“…I don’t seek bloodshed. But if there’s no other choice…”

She rested her hand on her holy sword.

Her stance showed confidence—not arrogance.

Fury had punched clean through countless warriors.

But this woman… she wasn’t boasting.

“I understand the Demon King’s rage... and I grieve for what’s happened. I seek not blood, but peace.”

She spoke to defend her honor and homeland. Fury respected that.

“But I cannot retreat.”

He declared.

“I’ve heard whispers that the incident was caused by a radical faction of knights. But our people were slaughtered. We will take the conspirators and deliver punishment ourselves.”

“Is there truly no way to de-escalate this, Your Grace?”

“I already offered one—General.”

“With respect, Your Grace… as commander, I cannot accept that.”

“It’s not my decision. This order came from my father. Obey or refuse—it’s your choice. But you know what it means that he sent me here.”

“And the fact that the King sent me to speak with you means the same.”

“I thought he was sick with smallpox.”

“Even if he were in perfect health, I would still be the one standing here.”

“You must be quite formidable then… General.”

“Then do you agree with me?”

“Even if I did, retreating would be disobeying the Demon King’s orders—which is worse than defeat, wouldn’t you say?”

“You’re right.”

She nodded.

“But if you had a reason to retreat—would your father reconsider?”

“And what reason would make us retreat?”

“Me.”

She dismounted.

“If you kill me, Luminous will be yours. I offer myself as the condition for your withdrawal.”

“Human, don’t be so—”

Fury raised his hand to silence his soldier.

“Stand down.”

“Your highness!”

And so, a duel began before the eyes of both armies.

Light versus Darkness.

Their battle would become legend, passed down among soldiers for generations.

Blinding speed. Raw power. Crimson lightning bursting from Fury’s body collided with golden light from her blade.

It was like watching gods and demons clash in divine war.

Mountains shattered. The ground quaked as if the world were ending. The sky screamed.

But even Fury—the strongest of his kind—could not defeat the female knight.

On the contrary…

She drew his blood.

And he left her battered.

Three hours passed.

Still, no victor.

They clashed with primal violence—yet their rhythm was as harmonious as a dance, each move flowing with deadly grace.

She still stood, though bleeding and her armor in ruins. Fury, too, had lost an arm, and most of his jagged armor was broken.

Still, there was no winner.

Blood dripped from his wounded arm.

“Huff... huff... huff...”

The tall woman refused to fall—or rather, she couldn’t afford to.

If she lost, her kingdom would fall with her.

Fury grew curious.

“…What’s your name?”

She wiped blood from her cheek with her right hand.

“Casca Saint-Maximin.”

The name struck like lightning. The demons behind Fury shivered in unison.

Even Fury hesitated.

“Maximin…?”

Demon: Maximin?! Could it be… that Maximin?!

None had seen her in person. They only knew humans called her the Chosen Guardian.

She was the human chosen by God to wield the sword.

No wonder the Crown Prince looked like this.

“Maximin…The holy warrior they speak of…”

“I’m just a person...your highness”

Fury paused. The battle tension faded. Crimson lightning flickered, then vanished.

“I’ll remember your face.”

Casca slowly lowered her sword and bowed.

Fury turned to his soldiers.

“Withdraw. We’ve found our reason to return.”

There was discontent. But they understood.

If even the Crown Prince couldn’t defeat her—no one in Diablo could.

They were equals… on opposing sides.

A cheer erupted from the human side, as if darkness had been vanquished by light.

Fury turned once more. The female paladin limped away, using her sword for support.

He, too, missing an arm, leaned on others for help. But the Diablo race could regenerate lost limbs—so long as the wounds weren’t fatal.

Deep down, Fury questioned his father’s command. Yes, lives had been lost. But an all-out assault on Luminous had been overkill.

As his men treated him, Fury called out across the battlefield—

“If you agree to negotiate—what will you do to those responsible?”

Casca turned back, wiping blood from her brow.

“We’ll bring them to justice. I swear it.”

She raised her right hand.

“May God sees you…your highness”

But this time, the prince didn’t respond out of formality.

With his only remaining hand, he raised it—and replied with sincerity.

“May God sees you, too.”

In this world, nearly 100% of the population is human, divided into five major kingdoms:

The Dark Magic Kingdom – Velmouth

The Snow Kingdom – Snowhaven

The Light Kingdom – Luminous

The Science Kingdom – Mathema

The Spirit Kingdom – Zentinel

However…

Two kingdoms are not ruled by humans—and their people are not human either. They are other.

The Demon Kingdom – Diablo

The Shadow Kingdom – Shadow

In this Arcane-inspired setting, the Diablo people are a rare minority, numbering fewer than 500.

But their physical prowess is unmatched—leagues beyond any other race.

This grants them terrifying military strength. After the last war, all agreed: the last thing anyone should do is provoke Diablo.

Twenty years ago, the Shadow Kingdom launched a surprise attack on neutral Diablo to claim its mineral-rich lands.

That was their mistake.

Months later, Diablo entered the war.

And ended it.

The once-pacifist Diablo unleashed their full power for the world to witness.

With fewer than 200 soldiers, they razed the entire Shadow Kingdom—erasing it from the map as a warning.

From five human kingdoms and two others...

Only one non-human kingdom remains: Diablo.

Because of the carnage, the five human kingdoms pleaded for peace and signed a pact.

Diablo would remain uninvolved—so long as no one disturbed them.

Separate lives. Mutual avoidance.

They lived in remote island clusters, untouched by outsiders. And no one dared cross their waters again.

The Diablos earned countless war legends. But one name stood above all:

Crown Prince Fury.

Wherever he walked, blood followed.

His presence alone sent armies into panic.

He possessed the highest physical capability in Diablo history. One punch could shatter a dragon ten times his size into a rain of blood.

He proved it—against both humans and shadows.

They called him The Demon Prince.

A name spoken in fear, not reverence.

As the sky faded to black, the story began.

A wooden ship docked.

A black-haired young man, about 165 cm tall, average looks, stepped off with a duffle bag. With him, an older girl—wolf-cut light brown hair, striking green eyes, almond-toned skin, a sharp figure in tight attire that drew stares. Taller than him, too.

“Is everything off the ship? Double-check.”

“Already did~”

The boy pulled out a letter.

Fury, it’s been 10 years since I moved to Diablo. You still haven’t visited me once. Have you ever left your home if not for war? I honestly can’t remember.

Aren’t you curious about the outside world?

Let’s play a game.

I challenge you to find me in the human lands. You have one year. While you search, I’ll be dealing with some unfinished business.

You’ll see me again... if you’re not too much of a coward to leave your hole. Hihi.

With love,

Maximin

A smile touched the boy’s lips. He folded the letter and tucked it inside his coat, right near his heart.

Tap tap.

“You’re keeping it there, huh?”

“If you burn my fiancée’s letter, I’ll rip your guts out and hang them at the city gates.”

“She’s just your fiancée, not your wife yet.”

“What difference does that make?”

“You can break off an engagement, duh!”

“And why would I?”

“I dunno! Anything could happen!”

“Save your curses for something useful.”

“You belong to me!”

“Not this again…”

They passed a worn-down noticeboard by the pier.

A tattered flyer read:

Demon Prince confronts the Paladin of Light, Casca Saint Maximin, on Salawan Fields. Humanity’s beacon drives back the darkness.

“…Drives back? I don’t remember being driven back.”

“That’s humans for you—always rewriting history to make themselves look good, your highness.”

Glare.

“Ulp…”

She quickly covered her mouth.

“…Forgive me, my lord.”

“That’s 20,000 more years in prison. Pending.”

“What about the 500,000 before that…”

“You almost earned a pardon… until you said that.”

“Oh come on, I’m on your side!”

“Trying to bargain? That’s another 400,000 years.”

“My lord!”

“Stop talking in public. I’ve told you. Right now, we’re human. If you slip again, I’ll send you back for real.”

“…It won’t happen again.”

Her name was Freya—a woman with brown wolf cut.

“Sometimes I wonder who’s guarding who…”

The young man crumpled the poster depicting his demon form and stuffed it into his bag.

“Interesting... Over ten years since the war ended, and I never really knew how humans saw me... until I stepped off that boat. Demon Prince, huh? Makes me sound like the villain.”

“It’s catchy. You gotta admit.”

“You know what they call you?”

“What?”

“The Mushroom.”

“…Mushroom?”

“The Demon Prince and the Mushroom. That’s your nickname.”

“…They really call me… The mushroom?”

“Can’t blame them. Even I see it.”

They passed a group of mercenaries eyeing Freya with lewd stares—unaware she noticed.

Fury narrowed his eyes at her. She grimaced.

“How’s it feel being full-option female, Freya?”

“Can I switch back?”

“Too late. You’re stuck like that now. Rest in peace.”

The boy turned toward the gate.

The Artheris Education District.

Casca... my other half.

I’ve come... just as you dared me to.