Nitish stood amidst the blood-soaked remains of the demon king Sura, the katana forged from the fallen king's bones still crackling with the power of thunder in his grip. The air was thick with the scent of death, the oppressive atmosphere of the throne room now tinged with the electricity of his newly chosen element. But Nitish's attention was not on the lifeless form of Sura or the power that coursed through his veins—it was on the gathering darkness beyond the massive stone doors.
The heavy, ancient doors groaned open, revealing a sea of demons spilling into the throne room. There were thousands of them, their forms varied and grotesque, each more terrifying than the last. Hulking brutes with twisted horns and scales, serpentine creatures slithering across the floor, and winged monstrosities with eyes that glowed like embers in the dim light. The ground shook under the weight of their numbers, the walls reverberating with the low growls and murmurs of the demon horde.
Nitish's eyes narrowed, his grip tightening on the katana. The demons parted as they entered, making way for seven figures that moved with an unmistakable air of authority. They were the leaders of the seven deadly sins, the highest-ranking demons in Sura's army, each embodying one of the dark aspects that defined their kind. They strode forward with the confidence of beings who had never known defeat, their gazes fixed on Nitish with a mixture of curiosity, contempt, and cold calculation.
At the forefront was the demon of Wrath, a towering figure clad in armor that seemed to smolder with an internal fire. His eyes burned with a relentless fury, twin orbs of molten gold that flickered like flames. His massive sword, forged from blackened steel, radiated an intense heat that warped the air around it. Behind him, Pride stood with her head held high, her ethereal beauty marred only by the smug arrogance that twisted her delicate features. Her power lay in manipulation, the ability to bend the wills of others to her own, and she wielded it with the precision of a master puppeteer.
Greed followed, his form constantly shifting, shimmering like liquid gold. His eyes gleamed with avarice, and the very air around him seemed to shimmer with the promise of wealth and power. Sloth lumbered beside him, a hulking mass of lethargy that moved with excruciating slowness. His power sapped the strength of those around him, dragging them into a pit of despair and inertia. Envy skulked in the shadows, her form twisted and hunched, her eyes darting between Nitish and the other demons with barely concealed jealousy. She had the power to steal the abilities of others, and her presence alone was enough to set Nitish's nerves on edge.
Gluttony waddled forward, a grotesque mass of flesh and hunger, his maw constantly drooling as if in anticipation of his next meal. His power was insatiable consumption, the ability to devour anything and everything in his path, absorbing their essence into his own. And finally, there was Lust. She was a vision of impossible beauty, her every movement a calculated display of grace and seduction. Her eyes were the color of twilight, deep and enigmatic, and her lips curled into a sultry smile as she approached Nitish.
Lust was the first to speak, her voice a melodic purr that resonated through the throne room. She stepped forward, her hips swaying with every step, and pointed her gleaming sword directly at Nitish's chest. "Who are you, human?" she demanded, her tone laced with both curiosity and disdain. "And how did a creature like you manage to kill Sura, our king?"
Nitish felt the weight of her gaze, her eyes scanning him with a predatory intensity. He could feel the tension in the air, the other demons waiting for his response, eager to understand the audacity of the human who stood before them, drenched in the blood of their fallen leader. But Nitish remained silent, his mind racing as he assessed the situation. He was outnumbered, surrounded by enemies who each possessed powers that could easily overwhelm him. His level was high, yes, but he lacked the skills to truly wield it. His katana, for all its power, was only as effective as the one who wielded it, and Nitish had never fought a real battle in this world.
He had learned everything he knew about swordsmanship from anime—fantastical moves and exaggerated techniques that had never been tested in real combat. He knew the stance, the grips, the swings, but it was all theory, all visual spectacle without substance. Standing before the seven deadly sins and their legion of demons, Nitish felt the gnawing bite of inadequacy. He had power, but no practice. Strength, but no strategy. He was a fledgling predator facing seasoned hunters, and they were all waiting for him to make the first move.
Wrath, impatient and seething with barely contained rage, slammed his sword into the ground, the impact sending a shockwave through the room. "Answer her!" he bellowed, his voice reverberating like thunder. "Who are you to defile this place with Sura's blood? Speak, or I will tear the answer from your corpse!"
Nitish didn't flinch, though his heart raced with every word. He kept his expression calm, his grip firm on the hilt of his katana. He knew that showing fear would be a fatal mistake. These demons thrived on intimidation, on the scent of weakness, and he refused to give them the satisfaction. He needed time, a way to gauge their abilities, to understand the scope of their power without exposing his own vulnerabilities.
Pride stepped forward, her eyes narrowing as she studied Nitish with cold scrutiny. "He's nothing," she said, her voice dripping with disdain. "A human with delusions of grandeur. Sura's death must have been a fluke—a lucky strike from an undeserving worm."
Nitish's eyes flicked to Pride, and for a fleeting moment, he considered lunging at her, testing the sharpness of his new blade against her arrogance. But he held back, knowing that rashness would only get him killed. Instead, he shifted his stance, subtly adjusting his grip, ready to move if needed. He couldn't afford to fight on their terms; he needed to make them fight on his.
Lust watched him with a mix of amusement and frustration, her sword still pointed at his chest. "I asked you a question, human," she said, her voice taking on a sharper edge. "Are you deaf, or simply too foolish to comprehend your situation?"
Nitish exhaled slowly, steadying his breath. He needed to buy time, to gather his thoughts, to find a way out of this impossible situation. "My name is Nitish," he said finally, his voice steady and clear. "And Sura's death was no fluke."
Lust's eyes sparkled with interest, her smile widening. "Oh? So you admit to killing him? Do you truly believe you can stand against us—against the seven deadly sins?"
Nitish's gaze swept over the assembled demons, his mind cataloging their positions, their stances, the subtle shifts in their weight that hinted at their readiness to strike. "I killed him because he underestimated me," Nitish continued, his voice unwavering. "Just like all of you are doing now."
A murmur rippled through the crowd of demons, a low rumble of disbelief and outrage. Wrath's eyes blazed with fury, the heat radiating from his body intensifying as he gripped his sword tighter. "Arrogant whelp," he snarled. "You think yourself invincible because you slew a king? Let's see how you fare against the true might of the seven sins."
The seven leaders moved in unison, each one radiating their distinct aura of power. Nitish could feel the pressure mounting, the suffocating weight of their combined presence bearing down on him. He had never faced an opponent of this caliber, let alone seven at once. But as he stood his ground, Nitish realized something—fear was not what he felt. It was exhilaration, a wild, untamed thrill that surged through him like a bolt of lightning.
Lust advanced, her movements fluid and hypnotic, her sword poised to strike. Nitish watched her closely, every muscle in his body tensed and ready. He didn't know how to win this fight, but he knew he couldn't afford to lose. Not here, not now. The thought of his classmates, the goddess, the whole damn world that had written him off as nothing—he would prove them all wrong.
Lust's sword flashed, a blur of motion as she lunged at Nitish, her blade slicing through the air with deadly precision. Nitish reacted instinctively, his katana moving to intercept. The impact jarred his arm, the force of her strike far greater than he had anticipated. Sparks flew as their blades collided, the sound of metal on metal ringing through the throne room like a bell.
Nitish gritted his teeth, pushing back with all his strength. He felt the lightning in his veins flare, a surge of energy that flowed into the katana, amplifying its power. With a sharp twist, he deflected Lust's blade, sending her stumbling back. It wasn't a clean move, not by any means, but it was enough to keep her at bay. For now!!!