In a castle far from the capital...
"Permission to speak, King Vasilias?" A raspy voice echoed in the grand hall.
The voice belonged to a creature standing on two legs, its body covered in black scales, with a massive tail curling behind it. Its eyes gleamed with a yellow tint, each with a blue slit for a pupil.
"Go ahead," a menacing voice rumbled.
The reply came from a giant humanoid figure, his skin a deep, blood-red hue, with muscles rippling across his powerful frame. A silver flame, almost like a crown, flickered atop his head. This was Vasilias, the King of Daimoniki, seated on his throne, one arm draped over the armrest while the other supported his head in a display of casual dominance.
"It's about the humans, Your Majesty. They've broken through another one of our territories. At this rate, it wouldn't take them more than two years to reach this place," the lizard-like creature reported, its voice trembling with fear.
"You said this was important, which is why I allowed you in here. And you waste my time with this drivel?" Vasilias' voice grew louder, his irritation palpable. "Get out before I grow more impatient."
"B-But Your Majesty—"
"I said, get out," Vasilias snapped, his eyes narrowing dangerously.
"Yes, Your Majesty," the creature replied, its head bowing in resignation.
But before the lizard-like creature could leave, another voice cut through the tension.
"Father, I've grown weary of this. Of our kind being trampled on and humiliated by these damned humans. Why do you insist on letting them treat us like this? You've only sent the weakest of our kind to defend us. You haven't allowed anyone you've bestowed with your power to step outside our kingdom. Please, I beg you, let us fight back," the voice pleaded.
It came from another creature standing on two legs, almost human in form but with the head, legs, and arms of a lion. Its skin was covered in a thick coat of yellow fur.
"Be patient, my son. The time will come," Vasilias replied.
"But when, Father? It's been years! Just one of my soldiers would be enough to push them back to their lands," the lion-like creature pressed, frustration lacing its tone.
"Calm yourself, son. Even my hands itch for battle. Every day, I resist the urge to crush those humans in my grasp. But this waiting, this anticipation, will make the final strike all the sweeter when we see the despair in their eyes," Vasilias said, a sinister grin spreading across his face as he clenched his fist.
"Do you remember the pleasure we took all those years ago, when we had our way with them? Killing and destroying their kind every day, the sounds of their torment, the looks of despair on their faces as they realized they were powerless, even against the weakest of us," he continued, his voice dripping with malice as he recalled the past.
"But then," Vasilias' voice darkened, "they came. Humans who could wield our power, who pushed us back and humiliated us."
He clenched his fist tighter, his knuckles turning white. "At first, I was taken aback, surprised that they could fight back with our own abilities. But it didn't take long to realize their power was a mere imitation—a poor copy of ours."
Vasilias summoned a silver flame into his hand, watching it dance in his palm. "Then, I had a brilliant idea," he said, straightening in his throne, his eyes glinting with cunning.
"What if we let them think they could win? Allow them to believe they have hope, that they can defeat us. We'll draw them in, let them lower their guard. Over the years, we'll let them win small victories, pushing them just far enough to think they are getting closer to their goal."
He leaned forward, his voice growing more intense. "We'll send out weaker foes first, ones they can defeat with some effort. They'll grow confident, thinking they are nearing our stronghold, believing that with just a few more victories, they'll reach our kingdom and eliminate us."
"Then, when they are at the peak of their hope, when they are basking in the joy of their impending triumph, we will strike. But not all at once. We'll start with small, calculated attacks—just enough to unnerve them, to make them think they've missed something. We'll send out stronger foes, one by one, each more formidable than the last, but always giving them just enough room to believe they're still winning."
Vasilias' grin widened as he continued, "With each small victory, they'll grow more desperate, more determined. But as they push forward, we'll start pulling back, making them think they're driving us to our last stand. And just when they think they have us cornered, we will unleash our true power."
"We'll send wave after wave of our strongest soldiers, not all at once, but in relentless succession. Each wave will be stronger than the last, and by the time they realize what's happening, it will be too late. Their forces will be stretched thin, their hope will crumble, and we will drown them in despair."
Vasilias' silver flame flared even brighter, casting ominous shadows around the room. "I'm getting shivers just imagining it—their faces twisted in horror as they realize their impending doom. It will be even more satisfying than anything we've done before."
He leaned back in his throne, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "So be patient, my son. Our time will come soon. But to ease your restlessness, I will allow you to take one of your soldiers—someone bestowed with my flame—to the forest where our weakest are being harassed by the humans. However, do not go overboard. Only eliminate enough of them to make it seem like they've simply let their guard down, nothing more."
"Do not engage directly, only send your soldier. Have him strike swiftly and quietly. Let the humans believe that those who fell were merely careless in a place they thought was safe. We want them to remain overconfident, thinking the Daimoniki there are still weak and easily handled."
"Be mindful, and do not attract too much attention. The last thing we need is to alert them to our true strength before we're ready."
"Have your fun, but return swiftly. We must not tip our hand too early," Vasilias finished, his tone leaving no room for disobedience.
The lion-like and lizard-like creatures stood in awe, their minds reeling from what they had just heard.
"As expected of our King, I should have never doubted you. I will serve you until my dying breath," the lizard-like creature said in reverence, kneeling before Vasilias.
"You should be honored to be one of the few who know of my plans. Now go, I'm tired of looking at your face," Vasilias commanded.
"Yes, my King," the creature replied, bowing deeply before hastily exiting the room.
"Father... I don't know what to say," the lion-like creature finally managed to utter.
Vasilias let out a deep, resonant chuckle. "Go now, my son, and soon, our time will come again."
"Yes, Father. Thank you for this opportunity," the lion-like creature replied with a fervent nod before turning to leave.
Once he was alone again, Vasilias settled back into his throne, his eyes staring off into the distance, a grimace etched onto his face.