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Demon Realm
The Demon Realm was shrouded in silence, a silence not of peace but of grief. The great war had left scars—villages burned to ash, families torn apart, and countless lives stolen in a single sweep of fate. Yet the wound that cut the deepest was the loss of their former Great Queen, Mariano.
At the heart of the mourning, Dylan stood with clenched fists, his eyes hollow yet burning. Before him, the funeral pyre burned brightly against the blackened sky, devouring the body of the mother he had only just reunited with. His voice did not break as he performed the final rites, but his hands trembled with every chant, with every word carved into the air like a wound.
Irin stood a few steps behind him, her face pale, her heart drowning in sorrow. She wanted to reach out, but this was his last moment with Mariano—and she could only watch as the flames consumed the one who had once been the heart of the Demon Realm.
When the rituals ended, Dylan's composure shattered. He stormed into his chamber like a raging storm. Pillows were ripped apart, flower pots hurled against the walls, shards scattering across the floor. His roar shook the chamber, each sound echoing with loss, rage, and despair.
"I lost her again!" he screamed, punching the wooden table until it splintered. "I saw her after so many years, only to see her die before my eyes!"
Irin rushed inside, terrified he would hurt himself in his madness. "Dylan, stop—please!" She tried to grab his arm, but he shoved the remnants of a broken vase across the room. He was uncontrollable, drowning in his grief.
And then, without another thought, Irin threw her arms around him from behind. Her small frame pressed against his broad, trembling back.
"Calm down… please… Dylan, stop hurting yourself," she whispered through her tears. "Don't carry this pain alone."
Dylan froze. Her voice broke through his rage like moonlight through storm clouds. Slowly, his body shivered, and his fury melted into sorrow.
"I couldn't protect her…" his voice cracked, raw with despair. "I wasn't strong enough. She died in front of me, Irin… my mother… my queen… I failed her."
He turned to face her, his face streaked with tears. Irin gently cupped his face, her thumbs wiping away the trembling drops.
"It's not your fault," she whispered, her own tears streaming freely. "You gave her the chance to see you, to know you again. That was her final peace. Don't punish yourself for what fate stole."
Unable to hold back any longer, Dylan collapsed into her embrace. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, burying his grief into her shoulder. She held him just as firmly, her warmth steadying the storm in his heart.
For the first time in years, the mighty demon king wept—not as a ruler, but as a son who had lost his mother.
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Heaven Realm
In the serene silence of the Heaven Realm, Ren lay asleep in his chamber, Lia curled close beside him. But peace abandoned him the moment a nightmare took hold.
In the vision, Xander lay broken and bloodied across Ren's lap, his body trembling with death's approach. His once fierce eyes softened into a fading light.
"Ren…" Xander's voice cracked, dripping with regret. "Kill him… kill Dylan… he caused everything…"
And then his final breath slipped away, leaving Ren's hands trembling against cold flesh.
"BROTHER!" Ren roared as he jolted awake, drenched in sweat. His chest heaved, his eyes wide in terror.
Lia startled awake, her heart pounding. "Ren! What happened?!" Her worried face searched his, trembling at the anguish in his voice.
Ren turned to her suddenly, clutching her as though she were his only anchor in this world. His voice broke as he whispered, "My brother… I miss him… I can still feel his blood in my hands… I can't accept it… Xander is gone."
Lia's eyes softened, her own chest tightening at his pain. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close as his trembling continued. "I'm here, Ren. I know it hurts… but you're not alone."
Ren closed his eyes, burying his grief against her shoulder, but the nightmare lingered, gnawing at his very soul.
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Purple Demon Kingdom – Liora's Chamber
The room was cloaked in heavy curtains of violet silk, the scent of herbs filling the air. Liora lay still upon her grand bed, her face pale, her breathing shallow.
"She is recovering," the healer whispered to the anxious assistant.
The assistant frowned. "It's been so long. When will our queen wake?"
Healer said to him,
"But the Goddess's energy struck her core. Her body needs time to heal."
After silence.
"Today… or tomorrow."
As if in answer, Liora's fingers twitched. Her eyes fluttered open, flashing with the same venomous glow as before. Gasps filled the chamber as her attendants rushed closer.
"My Queen, you're awake! Are you well?"
Liora sat up slowly, her mind rushing back to the last moment she remembered—Irin's strike, the searing pain of divine energy. Her lips curled into a furious snarl.
"That girl… Irin… she ruined everything!" Liora's voice shook with rage. "My plan—shattered because of her!"
Her gaze snapped to her assistant. "Has Xander contacted us?"
The assistant faltered. "No, Queen… no word from him."
Liora's nails dug into the sheets, her fury spilling. "I knew it. That traitor… he promised me he will tell where is my daughter! And now he hides like a coward. I will drag him out myself if I must!" She began summoning her magic, her aura swirling with hatred.
"Wait, Queen!" the assistant shouted, trembling. "Xander… he's gone. He was killed… by Dylan."
The room froze. Liora's hands stopped mid-air, her body stiffening in disbelief. "What…?"
Silence filled the chamber, heavy and suffocating. Then her lips trembled into a bitter.
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Demon Realm – Zerath's Study
The flickering torches cast eerie shadows as Dylan rummaged through shelves of ancient scrolls in Zerath's study. His hands swept aside records of wars, laws, treaties—until one scroll fell open, its seal bearing the crest of betrayal.
As his eyes scanned the words, his breath stopped. His blood ran cold.
"No…" he whispered, his voice trembling with fury. "Zerath… you… you've been betraying me all along?"
His eyes blazed crimson, anger flooding his veins. He slammed the scroll shut, his fists shaking.
"Why… WHY?!" he growled, his aura flaring in violent waves.
A voice echoed behind him, calm yet sharp. "Why are you here, Dylan?"
Dylan spun around instantly, his sword flashing out, the blade pressing against the neck of the one who stood there—Zerath himself, the ancient and wise demon elder.
Zerath's eyes widened in rare shock at Dylan's rage, at the blade that now threatened his life.
"Tell me," Dylan hissed, his voice trembling with wrath. "Who are you really?"
The silence between them was heavy, fragile, about to shatter into revelation—or bloodshed.
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To Be Continued…
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