The throne room no longer existed.
The world had changed.
Crimson clouds churned endlessly above, thick and heavy like coagulated blood, while the ground stretched into an endless battlefield of swords, embedded at every angle. Blades of all shapes and eras pierced the land, some broken, some pristine, all humming faintly with lingering intent.
Every step rang with a metallic echo, as if the battlefield itself remembered centuries of war.
This was the knight's domain.
A world forged from slaughter, discipline, and absolute martial will.
Lilith stood amidst it, her right shoulder still bleeding beneath torn fabric and scorched flesh. The wound burned, not from pain alone, but because the knight's Blood Domain continued to gnaw at it, trying to draw her blood even now.
She rolled her shoulder slowly, deliberately, forcing demonic energy to seal the flesh while letting enough blood spill to stain the ground.
Her lips curved slightly.
Looks like I need to become serious…
