Xorvath sitting upon his throne, crafted from the very bones of his enemies, clad with black robes that seemed to billow behind him like a dark cloud, his beauty was both of the ancient and evil, his hair was a wild tangle of black locks, faming his face like a dark halo.
His eyes gleamed with a malevolent light as he reached out a long, slender hand to grasp the culprit, his fingers closing around his wrist like a vice. With a swift motion, he lifted the struggling form into the air, the victim feet kicking wildly as they dangled above the ground.
A small ornate bowl seemed to materialize in his free hand, and with a cruel smile he positioned it beneath the captive's wrist. The demon's eyes flashed with an eerie light as he drew a dark blade across the victim's palm, the blood welling up like a crimson fountain. The bowl began to fill with the precious liquid, the demon's gaze fixed upon it with an unblinking intensity.
As the bowl overflowed, the demon raised it to his lips, his eyes closing in rapture as he drank the blood in great, gulping draughts. The sound of his swallowing was like a dark music, echoing through the shadows like a chilling serenade.
The demon lord sat back on his throne he gazed narrowed, his eyes burning with intensity as he focused on a slender figure with a gaunt face and sunken eyes. The welfare who trembled like a leaf, his voice trembled as he spoke his words tumbling out of rush.
Speak! The demon lord commanded, his voice like a thunder in the darkness. ''What news do you bring me of the Royal's plan?''
The welfare swallowed hard, his eyes darting about the throne room as if searching for an escape. ''Y-your majesty,' he stammered, the Royal seeks to bolster his guard, to conquer your realm.
A low, menacing chuckle rumbled from the him, causing the courtier to tremble even more. ''Foolish Mortal,' he sneered ''does he truly believe he can best me the master of shadows and darkness?'' his laughter faded, replaced by a calculating gaze. ''tell me, Welfare what secrets have you uncovered within the palace?''
The welfare hesitated, his eyes darting about the throne as if fearful of being heard. Y-your Majesty, he whispered, 'I have discovered that the royal Advisor, the wizard lord Kim, has been secretly gathering a group of rebels within the palace.
The demon lord expression turned thoughtful, his fingers steepled together in contemplation. 'And what about the royal daughter, the princess Theodora? Does she play a role in this intrigue?
The demon lord carried a bowl of blood he drank it, he felt a surge of power and strength flow through his veins. He laughed maniacally, the sound echoing off the dark stone walls of his throne room.
''Fools! he exclaimed, his voice dripping with contempt. ''The humans think they can defeat me with their petty guards and their weak magic! I am Xorvath the lord of the underworld! He raised the bowl to his lips, draining the last drops of blood.
The welfare feels irritated and he trembles more.
''You can leave he said as he gave a wicked smile.
The demon lord slammed his fist on the throne, making the dark stone tremble. ''Fools!'' he bellowed, his voice echoing through the chamber.
''They think they can threaten me? I will show them the true meaning of power!
He began to pace, his long strides devouring the distance. ''I will crush the heavenly realm beneath my heel like a significant insect they are. Their armies will burn, their cities will crumble, and their precious gods will tremble with fear!''.
And also, what more do you have for me when is the foolish king giving out his daughter for marriage, I want to turn happiness to sadness he said with and thick voice and laugh hard.
The welfare tremble in the next two weeks the preparation would be done
Make sure everything that happens in the palace must be forward to my realm or else you would be crushed down!!.
The welfare responded with a nod and walk out of his throne.
Maria's fingers wrapped tightly around Tristan's arm, her grip firm as if trying to anchor herself to him. Her eyes, filled with an intense pleading, locked with his. "Teach me again, Tristan. I need to learn how to defend myself."
Tristan paused, his gaze drifting toward the sword resting against the wall of the cottage. The familiar weight of it, the cool metal that had been an extension of his own body in countless battles, suddenly seemed heavy in his thoughts. He exhaled slowly, the flickering flame of the hearth casting shadows across his face. "Maria," he began, his voice soft but firm, "I've already shown you the basics. You're not a warrior."
Her fingers tightened around his arm, her nails almost digging into his skin. "Please, Tristan," she insisted, her voice a whisper but filled with an unrelenting plea. "I need this. You've taught me before, but I can't stop now. I need to be ready."
Tristan's resolve wavered as he saw the determination in her eyes. He'd known her to be stubborn, but this was different. There was something deeper, a fierce longing that pulled at him. After a long moment, he sighed in resignation. "Fine. But just for a little while." He finally gave in, his voice betraying the inner conflict he hadn't fully realized until that moment.
With a quiet nod, they both stepped into position. The room seemed to quiet, the only sound the crackling of the fire and the soft rustle of their movements. Maria stood with her sword poised in front of her, her stance awkward but determined. Tristan, ever the seasoned fighter, adjusted his grip on his own blade as he squared off against her. The light from the fire danced in his eyes, his expression unreadable. As they faced each other, their swords gleamed in the soft glow of the flames, an unspoken challenge hanging in the air between them.
Their gazes locked, an electric tension rising in the space that separated them. Maria's heart pounded in her chest as her mind raced. She had been waiting for this moment, but now that it was here, her nerves were on edge. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, but the heat in her chest wouldn't subside. She needed more than just training. She needed something else. Something she couldn't explain, but something that burned in her soul every time she looked at him.
Without warning, Maria feigned a stumble, her sword dropping as she deliberately lost her balance. Tristan's instincts kicked in, and he reached out, his arm strong and steady as he caught her effortlessly, pulling her close. Their bodies were just inches apart now, the proximity sending a jolt through her system.
Maria's heart fluttered wildly in her chest. This was the moment she had longed for, the moment she could no longer deny what had been building inside her for so long. Slowly, almost instinctively, she leaned in. Her lips brushed against Tristan's ear, the warmth of her breath sending a shiver down his spine.
"I've missed you, Tristan," she whispered, her voice low and husky, a secret only they shared.
Tristan's eyes fluttered closed as his breath hitched. His body responded to her in ways he couldn't control, his pulse racing as she trailed her lips down the curve of his neck. Each kiss seemed to spark something deep inside him, a fire he had long since buried. He shuddered, his grip on his sword slackening as his thoughts turned to mush.
The clang of metal hitting the floor broke the spell, Tristan's sword slipping from his fingers and falling with a heavy thud. His eyes shot open, his gaze locking with Maria's, but it wasn't the same look he had given her earlier. There was heat now, desire flickering in the depths of his eyes. He turned toward her with an intensity she had never seen before.
Before he could speak, Maria's lips crashed into his in a fierce, urgent kiss. Her sword, forgotten on the floor, lay untouched as their bodies collided with a force that left them both breathless. The kiss was like a storm, wild and untamed, as if everything they had been holding back was finally unleashed in that single, consuming moment.
They broke apart for a breath, their faces inches apart, both gasping for air. Maria smiled, a sly, knowing smile that sent a shiver down Tristan's spine. "I've learned a new defense, Tristan," she whispered, her voice teasing and confident. "The art of seduction."
Tristan stared at her, his breath ragged as he tried to collect himself, but the heat between them was undeniable. Her words, her touch, had ignited something in him that he couldn't extinguish, and for the first time, he realized that the battlefield they now fought on was far more complicated than any sword fight they had ever faced.