Katsuki sat at the edge of the bridge with a scowl. This is ridiculous. He is the Daemon Lord for fuck sakes! He had the most powerful of warriors at his command! He's a king! He IS what every single one of all the races feared about! He's superior...
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Katsuki Bakugou stood perfectly still as he gazed down the vast area of the east side of his territory from his castle's balcony.
It was still the early parts of dawn, but the lack of sunlight didn't hinder him from scanning what he can see -even if it's all just a huge forest and lea.
His eyes roam in wide landscapes of never ending trees that's probably filled with wildlife more than what he remembers. There seemed to be more and more of those creatures who seeks protection and made their way to live there for the past few years.
Granted, the towns, villages, capitals or places where human dwells that he conquered or under his care are all wildly scattered.
Well.. he never really intended to, but he found himself being branded and recognized as a king.
Of what? He doesn't know.
Is his territory can be called a kingdom or empire or some shit? Yes, that's what everyone says.
Does it have a name? Fuck does he know.
It just so happen that he desired to prove his strength over and over -challenging leaders of all sorts, and races ranging from the most powerful of immortals, up to those so called human lords, and then ended up claiming their territories.
That, and all those under them or their subordinates, also always ended up choosing to serve him..
Don't ask him why too, for he couldn't really understand it himself.
Not that he cared to do so, at all.
But maybe it has to do with the fact that all those assholes of leaders he did challenged were all somehow fully corrupted.
Their greed had consumed them completely, making them devils by their own doings.
Was he any better though? he wonders.
But, then again, who the fuck cares?
Still, to the rest of the world who never knew that piece of fact that the people under him did chose to serve him on their own will; He was the monster.
He was, to them, the manifestation of your worst fears and nightmares.
The very subject of what stories your parents made sure to tell you each night to instill in your brain as something to be feared and avoided.
To be despised.
To blame for tragedies.
To point as the one who enjoys their miseries.
The one story forever retold in every generation, alongside the tales of vampires and werewolves.
