I never imagined that being good would be harder than invading a kingdom.
But that's exactly what I'm going through now.
After two days under my mother's watchful eye and the old mage's quiet scrutiny, I was finally allowed to leave the house. Not for a leisurely stroll or a fun outing—no such luxury. It was because my mother needed to visit the spice merchant at the village market.
And of course… I came along.
> In diapers, wrapped in a blanket, and wearing that fake baby smile we all know too well.
I looked around. A peaceful little village. Children playing. Farmers selling their harvest. Everything looked like it was pulled straight from a fairy tale illustration.
Unfortunately, I know all too well that the world isn't as beautiful as it seems.
Still, this time—I wanted to believe in peace.
I wanted to try.
So when an old woman nearly dropped her shopping bag, I instinctively stretched out my tiny arms and…
> "…My servant shall assist you."
Yes. I actually said that.
The words just slipped out. An automatic reflex. A phrase once commonly used by nobles and kings of old—and one I used most often as the Demon King.
Her face turned pale. The people around me started stepping back. Even my mother looked confused, quickly pulling me into her arms with an awkward smile.
"Sorry about that," she said quickly. "Leo just likes to babble sometimes."
All I could do was lie there, thinking:
> Why did those words come out? Is my past still connected to this baby brain?
After that incident, we decided to head home early.
On our way back, the old mage caught up with us. She gave me a strange look.
"Your Majesty…" she whispered softly. "Are you truly serious about living a different life?"
I stared at her.
Then, with the flattest expression that probably looked adorable on a baby's face, I gave the tiniest nod.
> Yes.
I want to leave my past behind. I want to become an ordinary human. I want to be a father… to myself.
But apparently, not everyone is ready to accept that.
A few hours later, as the sun began to set, something happened.
A small explosion echoed from the edge of the village. Black smoke began to rise. People screamed. Someone ran through the streets shouting warnings.
Fire.
The village was under attack.
Or maybe… it was just an accident?
I don't know. But one thing is certain:
> This isn't over yet.