Amon raised his hand, fingers curling like claws through the smoke-thick air.
"Enough ceremony," he said, voice steady but sharp. "Inform the entire kingdom. We are going to war. Begin preparations immediately."
He didn't need to shout. The weight of his presence carried the words like prophecy.
The demons roared in celebration. Cheers echoed off the obsidian walls, weapons were raised, and bloodlust filled the room like wildfire. They had waited for this moment—too long.
And then, one by one, they left the hall, stomping into the coming night with renewed purpose.
Silence returned.
Amon remained seated, fingers steepled before his lips, eyes glowing faintly beneath the flickering torchlight. The throne of skulls creaked beneath him—but he didn't move.
He was thinking.
"To open the gate to the human realm… two keys are required."
That was what the former Demon King had told him before being consumed.
Everyone in the realm knew of the Valdareth Kingdom—impossibly powerful. They didn't wage war. They didn't conquer.
No, they were searching.
"Searching for the second key."
But what Valdareth didn't know was that the first key—the ring—had never left the abyss. The former Demon King had kept it hidden in plain sight… all this time.
And now?
Amon's eyes narrowed.
"All I need… is to take what was already mine."
He stood slowly.
The throne room shivered.
"Soon," he whispered, "both keys will be in my hands."
And then the gates will open.
The doors groaned open again.
A man stepped through the blood-etched archway, his crimson cloak fluttering in the rising heat. Scars etched his face, and the shadow of past wars clung to him like armor.
He bowed deeply, his voice steady.
"Greetings, Demon King."
Amon didn't rise from his throne. He raised a brow, amused.
The man continued.
"Let me reintroduce myself—General Amir, Commander of the Iron Legion… and brother-in-comrade to the previous king."
Amon's smirk deepened. He rested his cheek against a gloved fist, voice smooth and mocking.
"Ah… so you're here for answers. To know how I killed your brother. Or should I say—how he let me."
Amir's jaw clenched. His hand curled into a fist, veins bulging. The rage was there, caged but crackling.
"You're quick to understand the situation. Saves me the speech."
Amon leaned back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
"He always told me: 'Never fight a war if innocent lives hang in the balance… but always be ready to
give your life as a king.'"
He smiled faintly.
"He was… a perfect demon. A better king than I will ever be."
Amir's voice cut through the moment like a blade.
"And yet you murdered him."
Amon's smile faded—twisted now with something darker.
His tone dropped, the weight behind it cold and sharp.
"You think I wanted to kill him?"
He looked away, eyes shadowed.
"You think someone at Dominion Seeker could slay a Crownbearer? A king who reigned for five centuries?"
Amir narrowed his eyes.
"Then how?"
"You deceived him. Trapped him. It was betrayal."
Amon's hand twitched. The temperature shifted.
He stood, slowly, his black coat hissing as it moved.
His voice was no longer calm.
"I tolerated your tone out of respect. For him."
"But don't mistake his peace for weakness, and don't insult me with stupidity."
He stepped down from the throne.
"He could see through lies before they were even spoken. He knew every trap before it was set.
"Amon's voice trembled—not with fear, but fury.
"If he chose to die… then only he could make that decision."
A beat of silence. His eyes glowed faintly crimson.
"He made it. Not me."
Amir stared, shaken but silent. The truth lingered in the air like smoke.
Then Amon whispered, almost too quiet to hear:
"And I carry that weight now… not you."
And a thought ran through his mind.
"Just believe this lie I've created… hahahah."
His grin sharpened as he turned away, letting the silence weigh heavy on Amir's shoulders.
"The best lies," Amon mused inwardly, "are made of truths sharp enough to draw blood."
He looked over his shoulder, voice calm but laced with venom.
"Grieve him, Amir. Hate me if you must. But remember… I now wear his crown."
Then he stepped down from the throne, shadows clinging to his form like a royal cloak.
"And unlike him, I won't let mercy rot this kingdom again."
Amir stepped forward, his head bowed low."Please forgive my earlier rudeness, my king. I let my emotions cloud my judgment."
He lowered to one knee."My loyalty was never to a man… only to the throne. And now, you wear that crown."
Amon leaned forward slightly, his crimson eyes gleaming."Good," he said with a smirk. "That's all I need from you."
He rose, voice echoing with cold conviction."Ready the Iron Legion. We march to war—against the Valdareth Kingdom."
Amir's breath caught. "M-my king… Valdareth? That's suicide."His voice dropped. "They are the strongest among us. Their armies stretch beyond mountains. And now… they have three of the major demonic tribes under their banner."
Amon tilted his head, almost amused. "Three?" he said. "Weren't there four?"
Amir's eyes flickered. "Yes… but we've just received word. The Ironborn Tribe has refused to ally with them."
Amon's gaze sharpened. "And why is that?"
"We haven't discovered the reason yet."
"Then find it," Amon said flatly. "Send spies. Bribe messengers. Threaten merchants. I want every secret the Ironborn hold, and I want them yesterday."
Amir bowed again, deeper this time. "It will be done."
As he turned and walked away, the hall fell into silence.
Amon whispered to himself, staring at the flickering war map:
"Four demon tribes. Two kingdoms at war. One path to dominion."
His eyes narrowed, burning like twin eclipses."They're hiding something."
"And I already know what they're hiding."
Suddenly — a low hum vibrated through the throne room.Faint, mechanical. Like a whisper from a god.
A translucent screen blinked into existence before him, seen by no other.
| DEVOUR SYSTEM |
Name: AmonForm: Demon (Current) | Human (Past)Realm: CrownbearerSkills:
Devour Art (from past life)
Blood Art (awakened through demon soul)
Title Quest:"Conqueror of Realms"Objective: Collect both Demon Gate Key FragmentsProgress: 1 / 2Reward:Awakening of the True Demonic Body
Amon rolled his eyes.
"Not this window again."
He waved his hand through the screen — but it remained. Pulsing.
"Always appearing when I'm about to enjoy something. You really want me to open that damn gate, don't you?"
The screen flickered. The quest line glowed brighter — as if mocking him.
Amon leaned back on the skull-laced throne.
"Conqueror of Realms, huh? Bold title for someone who hasn't even started the real war."
The system chimed softly.
| New Notification: Intelligence Suggests the Second Fragment Is Hidden Within the Valdareth Royal Crypt. |
Amon scoffed.
"I know that, stupid."
He waved the prompt away like swatting a fly. The screen fizzled, resisting at first, then vanished with a reluctant shimmer.
He sank deeper into the throne, crimson eyes glinting.
Amon's smile returned—cold and deliberate.
"Let them guard their crypt."
His fingers curled into a fist.
"I'll take it from their corpses."