The vast and majestic throne room, once adorned with opulent gold and rich red velvet steeped in centuries of history, now lay desolate and ravaged. Its awe-inspiring architecture, once a symbol of absolute rule and wealth, now crumbled pathetically under the weight of destruction.
The massive Imperial crest, depicting a roaring golden lion, lay crushed on the ground, mirroring the state of the throne room.
The fierce clash between the two men had rent the once-grand space asunder, leaving half of the room in tragic ruins. Through the shattered walls, the outside world beckoned—a twilight panorama of untouched garden courts sprawled below outside, a stark contrast to the chaos within.
The ethereal glow of the twilight seemed like a blessing from the heavens upon the battlefield with the end in it's clear sight.
And he knew—the black haired man standing tall despite the wounds that marred his flesh, knew that this moment would go down the history as a blessed end. An end with a divine victory.
For this was the night the tyrannical grip of the Demon Rule would be shattered, bringing an end to an era of bloodshed and oppression.
With eyes hardened with determination, the man tightened his grip on his sword, steeling himself to deliver the final blow to the Demon King.
Before him, the once fearsome ruler remained still, bloodied and defeated.
The said Demon was now in his two knees on the cold dusty floor, bloodied with his head hanging low, yet still emanating a powerful aura befitting an Emperor.
After all, the Demon, was in fact not a Demon, but a human. None other than the current Emperor of the Evigheden Empire, whose reign was coming to an end on this blessed night.
His blood soaked iron-fisted rule, which held the entire empire in its suffocating grip, had earned him the moniker of 'Demon' from nobles and commoners likewise.
The black-haired man stalked forward with purpose, coming to a halt before the fallen and disgraceful Emperor. His voice cut through the tense silence like a blade as he spoke in a hard tone, "Any final words?"
The silence prevailed as the Emperor kept his mouth shut, his disheveled seafoam green hair shielding his downcast eyes.
The crimson eyes blazed with restrained anger as he spoke again in a mocking voice, "You do have a lot to regret for, don't you?"
A mirage of a woman came before his eyes.
A woman with deep pink wavy hair and apathetic coral eyes. A formidable and cold woman, known to the Empire as the Dark Blooded Witch, yet was a young soul with a human heart so warm and tender.
As her visage flashed before him, the weight of his own sword, poised to deliver the final blow to behead the Emperor, suddenly felt heavier in his grasp.
The man gritted his teeth and spoke through clenched jaws, "You'd better apologize and beg for her forgiveness on your knees."
Then, a low laugh escaped the lips of the defeated demon before him. And just then, in that moment, fueled by a mix of emotions, the man drove his sword through the Demon's heart.
She would have been sad. Despite how everything came to such a tragic end, she would have still grieved for the Demon.
So, instead of giving him a disgraceful end—beheaded and his head displayed before the populace as the entire Empire had desired—the black-haired man pierced the Demon's rotten heart.
'This is the only thing I could do for you,' the man silently conveyed to the fading mirage of the once untouchable woman, her tears shimmering in the rising sun rays.
As the Demon Emperor drew his final breath and his golden eyes dimmed, a faint, sorrowful smile, no creature would think him capable of, graced his lips, as the man's cold voice pierced his fading consciousness, "But then, even after you die, you won't meet her."
Right.
That was true.
The Demon was destined for hell. He couldn't go to where she had gone.
And she, the woman who was known as a Witch, and who had once been his Empress, was the only regret of the Demon Emperor's life.