The flickering torches lining the grand hall cast long, distorted shadows that danced across the black stone walls. Chen Ming followed the Demon King, his footsteps hesitant as they approached the throne room. The air grew heavier with each step, thick with tension and unspoken hostility. The Demon King walked with an unyielding stride, his fiery red hair blazing like a warning beacon.
As they entered the throne room, dozens of demons awaited. Their eyes glowed with suspicion and disdain, whispers swirling like smoke around the chamber.
"A mortal in the sacred halls?" one growled, his voice guttural and sharp. "Has our king lost his senses?"
"What is this weakling doing here?" another sneered, his claws clicking against the armrest of his seat.
Chen Ming's gaze shifted, taking in the hostility etched in every scowl and glare. He clenched his fists, refusing to shrink back, even as his heartbeat thundered in his ears. He didn't know why the Demon King had brought him here, but he'd be damned if he showed weakness now.
The Demon King raised a hand, and the room fell silent.
"Chen Ming is under my protection," he declared, his voice echoing like a storm. "He has proven his worth."
A burly demon with jagged horns stepped forward, defiance blazing in his eyes. "Worth? He's nothing but a fragile human! This is an insult to us all!"
Before Chen Ming could respond, the Demon King's gaze snapped to the challenger. The air itself seemed to freeze.
"Are you questioning my judgment?" the Demon King asked, his voice dangerously soft.
The room grew colder. Shadows began to pool at the Demon King's feet, spreading out like a living entity. The burly demon faltered but stood his ground.
"I am questioning the wisdom of keeping someone so unworthy in our midst," the demon spat.
The shadows surged forward, wrapping around the demon's limbs like chains. He struggled, but the shadows tightened, dragging him to his knees. The Demon King's eyes flared, glowing with an otherworldly crimson light.
"I have tolerated enough of your insolence," the Demon King growled. "Chen Ming belongs here, and anyone who dares oppose me will face the consequences."
With a flick of his hand, the shadows flung the demon against the wall, leaving him gasping for breath. The other demons recoiled, their murmurs stilled by the raw display of power.
Chen Ming watched, equal parts awe and trepidation coursing through him. The Demon King's rage was palpable, an unrelenting force that filled the room. Yet, there was a strange undercurrent of protectiveness in his actions—a shield of wrath erected in Chen Ming's defense.
The Demon King turned to Chen Ming, his expression softening, though the fire in his eyes remained.
"Do not let their words bother you," he said, his voice low but firm. "You are here because I chose you. Their opinions are irrelevant."
Chen Ming nodded, unsure of how to respond. A flicker of gratitude sparked within him, but he buried it quickly. There was no room for sentiment in this treacherous world.
Another demon, younger and bolder, stepped forward, his eyes narrowing. "If he is truly worthy, let him prove it. Let him fight."
The Demon King raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Very well," he said, his tone laced with amusement. He turned to Chen Ming. "What do you say? Are you ready to show them your strength?"
Chen Ming's heart pounded, but he met the Demon King's gaze with determination. "I'll fight," he said, his voice steady.
The younger demon grinned, stepping into the center of the room. A ring of spectators formed, their eyes gleaming with anticipation.
"Let's see what this mortal is made of," the demon taunted.
Chen Ming stepped forward, his senses sharp and focused. The Demon King leaned back against his throne, watching intently. Shadows continued to swirl around him, a silent reminder of his unwavering authority.
The fight began with a burst of motion. The demon lunged, claws extended, but Chen Ming sidestepped, his movements fluid and precise. Drawing on the combat training ingrained in him during his travels, he countered with a swift kick, forcing the demon to stagger back.
The room erupted in gasps and murmurs as the battle intensified. Chen Ming dodged and struck with calculated precision, his mortal limitations offset by his unwavering resolve. The younger demon's attacks grew more frenzied, but Chen Ming remained unyielding, his focus unshakable.
Finally, with a well-timed maneuver, Chen Ming knocked the demon to the ground, pinning him with a blade conjured from shadows—a gift from the Demon King. The room fell silent, the crowd stunned by the outcome.
The Demon King rose from his throne, his smirk widening. "It seems the mortal has spoken," he said, his voice carrying an edge of triumph.
Chen Ming released the defeated demon and stood, breathing heavily but victorious. The hostility in the room diminished, replaced by reluctant respect.
As the crowd dispersed, the Demon King approached Chen Ming, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"You've earned your place here," he said, his tone softer. "Remember, you're not alone. No one will harm you as long as I'm here."
For a brief moment, Chen Ming saw something genuine in the Demon King's eyes—a flicker of trust and perhaps something more. He nodded, the weight on his shoulders easing slightly. But deep down, he knew this was only the beginning.