In the vast expanse of the Demon Domain, the anticipation for the upcoming War for the Demon Sovereign was palpable. As the cycle neared its culmination, experts gathered in a grand broadcast, discussing the approaching spectacle and the candidates who would vie for the coveted title.
Among the thousands of contenders, Thomas found himself ranked among the top 500, a feat that garnered significant attention. The guests and host of the program were particularly intrigued by his presence.
"He's a formidable opponent," remarked one expert, his voice tinged with respect. "Thomas has proven himself time and again during his debates and travels across the domain. His strategic prowess and political acumen make him a force to be reckoned with."
Another guest chimed in, "Let's not forget about Saros. He's a mid-rank member of the Seven Sins Demon Palace and worked under Sovereign Aric for years. A rising star in his own right, known for his unwavering determination and unparalleled combat skills. It'll be interesting to see how he fares against the other contenders."
The conversation shifted to the battleground: the star Ferrus. Nestled in the same sector as the Demon Palace, Ferrus had been selected for its dense atmospheric demonic energy and lack of civilization. Its surface was enchanted by palace experts to withstand the formidable forces that would be unleashed during the event.
"The choice of Ferrus speaks volumes about the magnitude of this event," remarked the host, his tone grave. "It's a testament to the power and influence of the Demon Sovereign's Rite."
An ancient being, whom Thomas had encountered before at the Demon Palace, shed light on the mysterious rules surrounding the event. "The rules of the Rite are shrouded in secrecy," he explained, his voice echoing with ancient wisdom. "They will only be revealed at the commencement of the battle, adding an element of unpredictability to the proceedings."
As the broadcast drew to a close, anticipation among the viewers reached a fever pitch. The stage was set, the contenders prepared, and the fate of the Demon Sovereign hung in the balance.
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As the recording crystals soared over the Seven Sins Demon Palace, capturing the grand arrival of the candidates, a diverse array of beings numbering near ten thousand came into view. Among them strode Saros, a familiar face to Thomas, along with a mysterious figure cloaked in all black who went by the name Phil'ho, and a formidable four-armed woman named Arryn. Yet, amidst the throng, one figure stood out, a fair-faced individual with long hazel hair, emerald green eyes, and a scaled body of light skin tone. From a distance, this demon appeared almost human, a rarity among the denizens of the Demon Domain. Thomas couldn't discern much about this enigmatic figure, but he sensed a potent sin force emanating from them, rivaling even some of the ancient beings present.
Prepared for the challenge ahead, Thomas stood resolute in his prototype battle armor, a creation born of his expertise in divine blacksmithing, runic formations, and mortal craftsmanship. Combining the finest elements of human-developed Adept Battle Armors with his own divine knowledge, the armor boasted high-level runic formations that augmented its mortal-grade construction. Matte black with bronze accents, the armor featured a modern military-style helmet equipped with a versatile visor capable of tagging and tracking enemies, detecting heat signatures, and activating a myriad of runic formations inscribed across its surface.
Amidst a hushed anticipation, the sovereign of the Demon Domain made his grand entrance, flanked by the venerable ancients. With a commanding presence, he delivered a solemn discourse, his voice resonating across the gathered multitude. His words carried weight, echoing the gravity of the impending event.
"Esteemed candidates," he began, his tone commanding attention, "the time has come for the selection of the next Demon Sovereign. Among you stand the bravest and most formidable warriors of our realm, each vying for the esteemed title."
As he spoke, the sovereign gestured toward a designated area, indicating the stage where the rules of engagement would be announced. With all eyes fixed upon him, he proceeded to outline the rules that would govern the upcoming battle.
"All candidates shall be transported to the planet Ferrus," he declared, his voice unwavering. "Upon arrival, each candidate shall be bestowed with a unique artifact, bound to them for the duration of the selection process. These artifacts serve not only as a means of monitoring your progress but also as a conduit for your return to the Demon Palace should the need arise."
The solemnity of the moment hung heavy in the air as the sovereign continued, his words resonating with finality. "There shall be no restrictions on the employment of lethal force," he announced, his gaze sweeping across the assembled contenders. "Survival is paramount, and only the last one hundred candidates will participate in the election day."
With the rules laid bare, the gravity of the challenge ahead settled upon the candidates, each steeling themselves for the trials to come. In the face of uncertainty, only one thing was certain, the battle for the title of Demon Sovereign would be fierce, unforgiving, and relentless.
As Demon Sovereign Aric gestured towards the fleet of ten colossal starships, Thomas found himself captivated by the grandeur of the vessels. Carved from the very essence of solid rock, each ship stood as a testament to the ingenuity and power of the demon realm. Their imposing presence loomed against the backdrop of the void, a stark contrast to the vast expanse of space that stretched out before them.
Stepping aboard the nearest ship, Thomas marveled at the intricate craftsmanship that adorned its surface. Runes of ancient origin were etched into the stone, pulsating with an otherworldly energy that hummed with latent power. The air was thick with anticipation as the candidates filed onto the vessel, their collective anticipation palpable as they prepared to embark on their journey to Ferrus.
As the ships set course for their destination, Thomas meditated in silence, preparing his mind and body to fighting ahead. The rhythmic thrum of the engines reverberated through the hull, casting a hypnotic spell over those aboard. Amidst the subdued lighting of the interior, Thomas found himself lost in sense of emptiness', as if whatever happens be it good or bad was fine as long he pressed on and kept truthful to his heart.
Hours passed in a blur as the starships hurtled through the void, each passing moment bringing them closer to their destination. The anticipation among the candidates grew with each passing minute, their eagerness to prove themselves evident in the tension that hung in the air like a heavy cloak.
As the starships approached Ferrus, the anticipation among the candidates reached a fever pitch. With a deafening roar, the massive doors of the vessels parted, revealing the gray expanse of the planet below. Without hesitation, the candidates leaped from the ships, hurtling towards the surface with a sense of purpose and determination.
As the surface of Ferrus loomed into view, he was met with a scene of chaos and carnage. The battlefield stretched out before him, a sprawling expanse of rocky terrain littered with the fallen bodies of demons locked in fierce combat. The air was thick with the stench of blood and brimstone, the deafening cacophony of battle drowning out all other sounds.
With practiced ease, Thomas activated his prototype battle armor, the runes etched into its surface flaring to life with a soft glow. The armor hummed with power as it regulated his energy output, allowing him to conceal the full extent of his strength while still holding his own in the fray when his ears caught notice of a approaching projectile.
With lightning reflexes, Thomas narrowly evaded a deadly projectile, his senses on high alert as he swiftly countered the attack. Seizing the spear's handle, he redirected its trajectory towards an approaching demon, striking true and vanquishing his adversary with a decisive blow.
As the demon vanished in a shimmering flash of silver light,
Without letting his guard down, Thomas moved with fluid grace, his movements a deadly dance of precision and skill. His first opponent was a towering demon with crimson skin and horns that curled like daggers. With a roar, the demon charged at Thomas, swinging a massive axe in a sweeping arc. Thomas dodged the blow with a swift sidestep, then countered with a lightning-fast thrust of his spear, driving the blade into the demon's chest with deadly accuracy.
As the demon staggered back, wounded but not defeated, Thomas unleashed a barrage of strikes, each one aimed with lethal precision. The demon fought back ferociously, its axe whistling through the air as it sought to cleave Thomas in two. But Thomas was too quick, too agile, his movements like those of a seasoned dancer as he danced around the demon's attacks with effortless grace.
With a final, decisive blow, Thomas struck the demon down, his spear piercing its heart with unerring accuracy. As the demon fell, its body dissolving into ash, Thomas turned his attention to the next opponent, his senses alert and his reflexes honed to a razor's edge.
The next demon to face Thomas was a cunning adversary, a wiry creature with jet-black scales and eyes that burned with unholy fire. This demon relied not on brute strength, but on speed and guile, darting in and out of the shadows with preternatural grace as it sought to outmaneuver its opponent.
But Thomas was no stranger to such tactics, the memories and experience of Deities serving him well as he met the demon's attacks with calm determination. With each feint and dodge, he anticipated the demon's movements with uncanny accuracy, countering its strikes with swift and decisive blows of his own.
Despite the demon's best efforts, Thomas remained steadfast and resolute, his focus unwavering as he pressed the attack. With each passing moment, he gained the upper hand, his relentless onslaught driving the demon back until it was left with no choice but to retreat.
But Thomas was not content to let his foe escape so easily, his determination driving him forward as he pursued the demon with unwavering resolve. With a final, decisive strike, he brought his spear down with all his might, the blade slicing through the demon's defenses and striking true.
As the demon fell, its body crumbling to dust at Thomas's feet, he allowed himself a moment's respite, his chest heaving with exertion as he surveyed the battlefield around him. The sounds of battle still echoed in the distance, the cries of the wounded and dying mingling with the clash of steel and the roar of flames.
As the chaos of battle subsided and the dust settled around him, Thomas remained standing amidst the carnage, his breath ragged and his heart pounding in his chest. Despite the relentless onslaught he had faced, he had emerged victorious, the sole survivor of the brutal conflict that had raged across this battlefield.
But even as he stood amidst the wreckage, Thomas kept his true power hidden, his divinity and sin force carefully concealed beneath a veneer of mortal strength. It was a precarious balance, but one that he had mastered through years of training and discipline.
Surveying the devastation around him, Thomas sighed heavily, his gaze falling upon the shattered remnants of his prototype battle armor. The once-imposing suit lay in tatters at his feet, its surface marred by cracks and drenched in the blood of his fallen foes.
"I guess hundreds of demon emperors is all a mortal-grade armor can endure," Thomas murmured to himself, his voice tinged with resignation. With a weary sigh, he stooped to gather up the broken pieces of the armor, his movements slow and deliberate.
Once he had collected the last shard of metal, Thomas closed his eyes and focused his energy, summoning forth a swirling vortex of light and shadow. In an instant, the broken armor vanished, replaced by a shimmering array of mirrors that coalesced around him, forming a towering suit of armor that towered over ten feet tall.
The new armor gleamed in the dim light of the battlefield, its surface reflecting the chaos and destruction that surrounded them. With a sense of grim determination, Thomas stepped into the armor, feeling its weight settle around him like a second skin.
Lumine's armor formation had much better specs, he admitted as he let his power flow through the artifact. He may have cleaned this section of the planet but he knew there were others like this across Ferrus, and the war for the position was only just starting.