In the depths of the Demon Realm, a place where endless darkness surges, a towering palace lay dormant like a giant beast.
Inside the palace, countless ghostly purple flames floated in mid-air, illuminating rugged, grotesque stone pillars and a ceiling that reached out of sight.
The floor was paved with solid slabs of dark crystal, reflecting the flickering firelight as if blood were slowly flowing through the stone veins.
At the end of the palace, a massive black iron throne stood atop a high platform.
A colossal figure sat upon it like a mountain—his height was estimated to exceed fifty meters, and his mere seated posture emitted a pressure that made the entire space tremble.
He was the only god of the Demon Realm, the Demon King.
The Demon King’s face was hidden in shadow, with only those abyss-like eyes occasionally flashing with purple-red light.
At this moment, two chaotic sources of light were floating before him; one was dark blue, and the other was interwoven with black and white.
They rotated silently, exhaling raw and violent energy.
A low chant emerged from the Demon King’s throat.
It was not a mortal language but a series of obscure, twisted syllables.
With each syllable that fell, the ghostly flames in the palace flickered, and ripples spread across the crystal floor.
Ancient incantations wrapped around the two light sources like chains, guiding the energy within them to pulse rhythmically, as if they were two hearts about to hatch terrifying beings.
“Awaken, my most loyal servants.”
The Demon King’s final incantation fell like a heavy hammer, its sound echoing repeatedly through the empty palace.
The two lights suddenly contracted, then expanded violently—the dark blue light mass gradually stretched into the outline of limbs and a torso, solidifying into the form of a sturdy man.
He hovered in mid-air, his rock-hard, well-defined muscles rising and falling slowly, his long black hair moving without wind, draped behind his shoulders.
A blue trench coat hung from his shoulders, and he wore tight black trousers on his lower body.
When he opened his eyes, his pupils were a pure, clear black, with no whites visible—that was the purest proof of the Demon Clan.
The other light mass, interwoven with black and white, evolved into a more alien form: the upper body was a muscular humanoid torso, while the lower body was that of a horse covered in dark fur, standing on four hooves in the void, with an overall height of five meters.
This centaur-like Demon Clan member held a long sword in each hand, condensed from pure magic power—the black sword in his right hand was like a rift devouring light, while the white sword in his left hand shone as brightly as the midday sun.
Two newborn yet powerful auras permeated the palace.
The Demon King looked down at these two creations he had molded with the origin of the Demon Realm and his own divine power, and spoke slowly, his voice like grinding tectonic plates: “I am the Demon King.
I now bestow upon you your names—”
“Belial and Lucifer”
As the Demon King’s words fell, the names emerged in the minds of the two Primordial Demon Gods.
The sturdy Demon God was named Lucifer, while the centaur Demon God was named Belial.
“Yes, my Lord Demon King.” Both bowed their heads almost instinctively, their voices filled with the hollowness and obedience of newborns.
However, the moment the sturdy man named Lucifer responded, a trace of imperceptible daze flashed across his eyes.
He subconsciously flexed his fingers, feeling dizzy from the strange power surging within him.
Where is this?
What is…
going on with me?
Chaotic thoughts exploded in his mind.
His last memory remained in a narrow room, the phone screen displaying a scene from Seven Deadly Sins anime, with Meliodas swinging his sword toward the Ten Commandments…
then blinding white light, a searing impact, and when he opened his eyes again, he was in this world.
Did my phone explode?
So I was blown up and died?
Damn phone manufacturer, I’ll definitely sue you—as soon as this thought emerged, he felt a sense of absurdity.
Sue whom?
I’m already dead, so what is this?
Rebirth?
Transmigration?
He silently suppressed the agitation in his chest, clenched his fists, and felt the newborn power surging beneath his muscles.
The Demon King did not care about Lucifer’s brief moment of daze—or rather, he did not care at all about the insignificant self-awareness of his creations at birth.
He raised his massive hand, condensed two tiny specks of light at his fingertips, and flicked them gently, sending the light points shooting like meteors into the foreheads of Lucifer and Belial.
“Ugh…” Lucifer’s body jolted as a flood of information rushed into his mind.
Demon Realm.
Demon Clan.
…
This is the world of Seven Deadly Sins.
And the one before him is the supreme god who rules the Demon Realm, the Demon King.
He had actually become a Primordial Demon God created by his own hands.
In the original work, there should have only been Belial, but now, he had become the second.
That centaur is Belial.
And in the original plot, Belial was eventually torn apart by the Demon King into “Chandler” and “Cusack” for attempting to usurp the throne.
So I am Lucifer, one of the Primordial Demon Gods?
Emotions of absurdity and a sense of crisis welled up in his heart.
He instinctively wanted to perceive his current power.
In the world of Seven Deadly Sins, that is the standard for measuring everything: Combat Class.
With a thought, a translucent, ghostly blue panel suddenly appeared before his eyes, its edges wrapped in flowing light resembling magic runes:
[Lucifer]
[Magic Power: 3000]
[Physical Strength: 3000]
[Spirit: 6000]
[Combat Class: 12000]
In the bottom right corner of the panel, there was a small note: [Magic Power: Magic Eye of Balor]
Lucifer’s breathing hitched slightly.
Twelve thousand?
A newly born Primordial Demon God, and his Combat Class is only twelve thousand?
He stared fixedly at the number, even subconsciously closing his eyes and opening them again—the panel remained, and the number had not changed.
He hadn’t miscounted a zero, and there were no hidden units; it was exactly twelve thousand.
What kind of joke is this…
He clenched his fist tightly, his knuckles turning white.
In the original work, those “Ten Commandments” members easily had combat classes of several tens of thousands, and the Demon King was unfathomable.
Is this twelve thousand of mine supposed to be the starting point for a Primordial Demon God?
What about that centaur Belial next to me, what is his now?
The same twelve thousand as me?
Or is Belial’s Combat Class even higher than mine?
Thinking of this, Lucifer immediately used his magic, “Magic Eye of Balor,” to check Belial’s Combat Class.
[Belial]
[Magic Power: 30000]
[Physical Strength: 60000]
[Spirit: 120000]
[Combat Class: 210000]
Two hundred and ten thousand…
Seeing this Combat Class, Lucifer was stunned.
Both are Primordial Demon Gods created by the Demon King, so why do I only have twelve thousand, while this guy Belial has a full two hundred and ten thousand Combat Class?
Thinking of this, Lucifer couldn’t help but mutter in his heart: “The Demon King is really biased.”
Actually, even just looking at their builds, it’s clear that Belial is much stronger than Lucifer.
After all, that size is a manifestation of magic power.
Although most beings do not judge magic power by body size, a small number of powerful individuals will see their bodies expand when their magic power increases significantly.
Just like Ban, the Greed of Seven Deadly Sins, whose muscles would grow larger after using his magic power [Hunter Fest].