Chapter 99: The Hybrid Bran

“I saw it with my own eyes!”

“Me too! It looked exactly the same. Believe us, Duke!”

“Didn’t look that similar to me. Just an ordinary bat.”

“Similar? It was ugly. Duke, they must be bored.”

“Bored? Who’d risk their life for fun? It was identical!”

As Bran sighed, sipping tea and enjoying the lake’s dawn scenery, the magical beasts swarmed, causing a commotion.

“Speak one at a time,” Bran said, pointing at the mimic snail leader. “You. What appeared where?”

“Duke, I told you yesterday and the day before! At Dock 17, on a ship to the Elidivi Mountains, there was a bat just like the one the Demon King commanded!”

The mimic snail had been pestering Bran for days, claiming the Demon King was resurrected or that they’d seen his pet. Bran didn’t believe it, so the snail brought other beasts to verify, but their reactions varied—some said it matched, others disagreed. Understandable, since none had seen the Demon King’s bat in person, only in an ancient portrait. The Demon King’s face was lost to a preservation accident, leaving only the majestic bat on its perch intact.

“Didn’t look like it. The Demon King’s bat was brave and dignified. That one just screamed insignificant.”

“It did seem young. Maybe the Demon King’s bat survived and had offspring?”

“Whatever it is, the Duke needs to check. It’s the first clue in ten thousand years. That bat might know where the Demon King is sealed!”

The beasts resumed their clamor. Bran regretted becoming “Duke” for the 291st time.

Bran’s mother was a hybrid, his father a human from the Illiand Empire. Hybrids, resembling humans, allowed Bran to pass as one in his youth. His striking looks drew attention, but his hybrid arrogance sparked conflicts.

“Bran’s special. He can’t live among humans. Let’s move,” his parents decided. As hybrid blood thinned over generations, Bran inherited potent demon blood despite his youth. They relocated to a hybrid enclave on an Elidivi island, where Bran learned the true history.

“Bran, the world has four realms: Earth, Idea, the Demon Realm, and the Celestial Realm.”

Earth was unaware of other worlds, dismissing them as fantasy. Idea knew only of the Demon Realm, scoffing at other claims. The Demon Realm’s awareness varied—beasts had a narrow view, giants wider but limited, while demons knew all realms and suspected more beyond known space-time.

Demons, rulers of the Demon Realm, always found their world too small, knowing of the outside. Like a dog in a tiny cage, content until it sees the vast world beyond, then barking endlessly to escape.

“The Demon King was the same. He began conquests.”

“He took Idea, right?”

“No, he went for the Celestial Realm first.”

Few knew this, as Celestials hid the shameful history. The Demon King easily made the Celestial Realm a demon colony before targeting Idea, where resistance was fiercer than expected.

“Oddly, when war broke out, once-in-a-millennium talents—swordsmen, mages, warriors, spiritists, healers—emerged at once. Heroes formed a subjugation team, but they were no match.”

“But the Demon King was sealed, Mother.”

“That’s the strangest part. He was near-divine, yet mere humans sealed him? Some say he chose to be sealed.”

Sealed—willingly or not—ten thousand years ago, per demon records, not Idea’s vague “long ago.”

“Bran, our destiny is to revive the Demon King.”

“How? We can’t reach the Demon Realm.”

“The Demon Realm seal is a lie to deceive us. He’s sealed in Idea.”

Hybrids didn’t seek to return to the Demon Realm; after ten thousand years, Idea was home. Their sole destiny: revive the Demon King, inherited from ancestors who stayed in Idea for that purpose.

Like fish seeking water or moths chasing flame, hybrids instinctively pursued this. Bran was the odd one out, uninterested, preferring to toy with humans and elves. He often ran off to human society, only to be dragged back by his mother.

“My son, really! The strongest hybrid alive, and I can’t just drain his blood!”

Demon tradition dictated the strongest become “Duke,” akin to giant enforcers, elf elders, or dragon lords. Ten thousand years ago, the demon Duke returned to the Demon Realm. After the realms’ disconnection, hybrids elected new Dukes. Bran, despite his carefree nature, revealed his strength in pride-driven clashes, marking him as Duke in their hierarchy-based society.

Three years ago, the previous Duke passed the title to Bran, thrusting him into leadership. Since then, chaos reigned—Idea’s collapse rumors, the upheaval, aura awakenings, field emergences, giant invasions—all erupted after millennia of calm. Bran felt cheated, resenting the idle former Duke, yearning to flee. Now, beasts claimed to have seen the Demon King’s pet, pushing him to the brink.

“Duke, let’s check! Will you let the ship reach the port?”

“You can’t judge by old drawings. With tensions high, what if humans start a war with us?”

“That’s why we go together!”

“Go and do what? Kidnap the bat if it’s real?”

As Bran remained dismissive, his hybrid confidants spoke. “Ancestral clues about the Demon King’s seal might have passed down. Duke, stop being so sluggish.”

“Your butt’s too heavy. When subordinates beg like this, go check.”

“Some Duke, tsk tsk.”

Bran wished they’d tell him to quit, but they only clucked their tongues. The strongest led—demon blood’s iron rule. Reluctantly, Bran moved, joining the beasts to see the bat. Upon spotting the round-eyed creature, he froze.

Words couldn’t capture the feeling. Meeting its gaze, Bran knew: This is the Demon King’s bat’s descendant. It felt like giant eyes loomed behind him, piercing his soul, as if saying, “Dare you meet my gaze?” Only Bran felt this overwhelming pressure; the beasts only noted its appearance.

Returning to study the portrait’s bat, Bran went with hybrids to the docked ship. Disguised as human tourists, they tracked the bat to the World Tree’s core, impenetrable even for hybrids. After a tense week, the bat’s group emerged, the hatchling gone—a perfect chance. That night, Bran infiltrated their inn.

A flaming sword flared. Green eyes glared warily.

“Sharp kid,” Bran said.

“…” The bat blinked up at the boy. Bran, relieved to avoid its gaze, faced the boy’s question.

“You’re a hybrid. Have you been following us?” Ion asked.

“Yes,” Bran replied.

“Your purpose?”

“I need that bat.”

“…” Ion went silent. The bat flapped. “No way! Dam Ion thinking of giving me up? Bad Dam Ion! Abandonment bad! I’m hurt!”

“Okay, stay calm,” Ion sighed, intensifying the flames. A threatening wall of fire rose, skillfully avoiding the room’s surfaces. Bran smirked—born with strong demon blood, he needed no weapon.

With a wave, Bran summoned a misty rain, dousing the flames.

“…!” Ion’s eyes widened.

Bran reveled in the shock, a familiar thrill after nearly a century. I’m strong! No hybrid can beat me. He raised his chin arrogantly. Ion smiled faintly.

“Interesting. Try blocking this.”