In the depths of the Demon Realm, amidst swirling miasma and dark shadows, the Demonlord's anger echoed through the chamber as he gazed into the miasma mirror. "Nooooo!" Phobio's cry of frustration reverberated off the walls, his fury palpable as he lamented Hina's constant interference in his plans.
The Demonlord, his gaze fixed on the reflection of Hina's serene, angelic face, clenched his fists in frustration. "Why do you keep intervening?" he muttered to himself, his voice laced with a mixture of anger and begrudging admiration. "That beautiful, angelic face... it's getting in my way."
Turning his attention back to the mirror, the Demonlord addressed his unseen queen. "My queen, I know I must keep you stronger so I can harness your vitality and power soon." His words were filled with a sense of urgency, a determination to bend Hina to his will.
Berserker, the Demonlord's loyal right-hand, stepped forward, his voice filled with eagerness. "My master, how about we just harness her now, before she can get stronger and become unstoppable?"
The Demonlord's response was swift and harsh. "Silence!" he bellowed, his rage boiling over. "You are nothing but trouble! The information in the Elite Tryni Academy is complete blasphemy. I thought my future queen was not there, that's why I failed to kill all the people in that academy because of her, and her alone!"
Demonlord's anger seethed beneath the surface as he contemplated his next move. "Why does it have to be this way?" he muttered to himself, his face twisted in frustration. "Since that girl was born into this world, she keeps preventing the people from dying and harnessing their souls to make me stronger."
The Demonlord's thoughts turned to darker possibilities. "Maybe it's time to harness her now... or maybe not." His face betrayed the turmoil within, a storm of conflicting emotions raging beneath the surface.
Meanwhile, Berserker, cowering before his master's wrath, spoke tentatively. "My master, are you alright?"
But the Demonlord's fury knew no bounds as he lashed out, striking Berserker with a powerful blow that sent him crashing into the wall of the castle. "I said shut up!" he roared, his anger burning like a raging inferno.
Berserker, dazed and trembling, could only muster a feeble apology as he recoiled in fear, his demeanor resembling that of a frightened puppy in the presence of its master.
In the eerie silence of the Demonlord's chamber, his laughter reverberated like a sinister melody, filling the air with a palpable sense of dread. "Maybe I should have let you die in the first place," he sneered, his voice dripping with malice as he entertained thoughts of betrayal.
Berserker, trembling before his master's malevolent gaze, pleaded for mercy. "No, you can't! Please, master, I will do better next time," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.
With a swift and silent movement, the Demonlord closed the distance between them, his presence looming over Berserker like a dark shadow. Leaning in close, his voice barely audible, he issued a chilling command. "Will you?" he whispered, his tone laced with menace.
Berserker, his resolve wavering in the face of the Demonlord's intimidating presence, nodded frantically. "Yes, master, I will do everything I can," he vowed, his voice trembling with fear and desperation.
Phobio's, the Demonlord's ever-loyal servant, interjected with a sense of urgency. "We will attack again soon," he declared, his voice tinged with a hint of apprehension. "But make sure you do not fail. If you fail, I will kill you myself."
The Demonlord's laughter echoed once more, a distorted symphony of twisted joy as he reveled in the chaos and destruction that lay ahead. In the darkness of his chamber, surrounded by whispers of treachery and impending doom, his presence loomed like a specter of death, casting a chilling shadow over all who dared to defy him.
As the Demonlord's decree echoed through the cavernous chamber, a cold shiver ran down Berserker's spine, his heart heavy with the weight of his failure. "Dismissed," the Demonlord's voice rang out, cold and unforgiving, condemning Berserker to the depths of his wrath.
Berserker's head bowed low, his once-proud stature now humbled before his master's judgment. "Yes, master," he murmured, his voice tinged with resignation as he accepted his punishment. With a heavy heart, he knelt before the Demonlord's throne, his gaze fixed upon the ground in silent submission.
As Berserker lowered himself in deference, the air grew heavy with tension, a palpable sense of dread hanging thick in the air. Around him, the other minions watched in silent reverence, their faces twisted in a mixture of fear and awe.
"All hail Phobio's," Berserker intoned, his voice barely above a whisper, as he paid homage to the Demonlord's most trusted servant. In unison, the other minions echoed his words, their voices a chorus of obedience as they pledged their loyalty to their dark master.
"Long live the Demonlord," they chanted, their voices rising in fervent devotion, their allegiance unwavering in the face of adversity. With each word, their commitment to the cause grew stronger, their resolve hardened by the promise of power and dominion.
Amidst the chorus of praise, the Demonlord's laughter rang out like a sinister melody, a chilling reminder of his supremacy. With each echoing laugh, the darkness of the Demonrealm seemed to close in, enveloping them in a cloak of malevolence and malice.
In the heart of the Demonrealm, where shadows danced and whispers of treachery lingered, the Demonlord reveled in his triumph, his laughter echoing through the darkness as he prepared to unleash his wrath upon the world once more.
*To be continue *