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I don't know how long it's been since the war—maybe a week, maybe a month. Time didn't exactly punch a clock around here in the demon realm. It sort of… melted. Which was ironic, considering melting things was part of my daily routine now.
And no, I'm not talking about cheese.
With just a wave of my hand, I could melt metal, stone, and on occasion—someone's sword. Accidentally. During training. Oops.
This morning—or whatever time of day it was—I found myself in bed with Syla. Yes, that Syla. The one with the sly smile, silver eyes, and the dangerous hips that should be registered weapons of mass distraction. It was part of my "training," she said. Something about bonding through touch to unlock my elemental affinity. I wasn't complaining.
My hands were curled around her chest. Soft, warm, impossibly smooth. Like two enchanted pillows sent from the heavens—or hells—specifically to distract me.
"You're getting better at this," she whispered, her voice practically a purr. Her fingers trailed across my back, sending sparks—literal ones—up my spine.
I smiled awkwardly, unsure if I was supposed to kiss her or perform a fire ritual. So instead, I cleared my throat and went with classic awkward humor.
"So uh, does this count as cardio? Or is this strength training?"
She giggled.
I could've stayed there longer. Hell, I wanted to stay there longer. But then it hit me like a war hammer to the face.
The meeting.
"Crap," I muttered, pulling myself away from Syla and fumbling to throw on something resembling clothes. "I was supposed to be at the district council meeting. An hour ago. Or more. Or… wait, how long ago was it again?"
Syla propped herself up lazily. "You're the Demon King. Let them wait."
"Yeah, well... they probably are. Which is exactly what scares me."
I rushed through the massive obsidian corridors of the palace, my cloak flapping behind me like a low-budget anime hero. Two succubi bowed as I passed. One winked. I tripped.
Eventually, I reached the War Council Chamber—a massive, circular room with floating obsidian pillars and a glowing rune table in the center. And there they were.
The District Lords.
Sitting. Waiting.
Patiently.
Nobody was angry. Nobody looked irritated. Not a single eye twitch or cough of impatience. In fact, they all looked downright calm.
It was terrifying.
The moment I stepped inside, the temperature subtly shifted. I could feel it. Like their fear made the air colder… or maybe that was just my guilt trying to freeze me in place.
"My apologies for the delay," I said, sliding into my throne like a late student in algebra class. "I was, uh... training. You know. Heat manipulation. Got a little hot and heavy."
A few of them blinked. One or two flinched.
"It's fine, Your Darkness," Lord Vurien of the Flame District said, folding his hands. "We understand you're mastering your power."
I raised a brow. "You mean you understand I could burn you to a crisp with a sneeze."
Dead silence.
Then, someone laughed. Nervously.
Okay. Time to get serious. Or semi-serious. Demon-Kingly-serious.
"Alright," I said, pulling up the glowing map on the rune table. It shimmered, showing the full layout of the Demon Realm, split into seven primary districts: Flame, Ice, Shadow, Thunder, Lust, Decay, and Bone.
"First order of business: defense placements along the northern pass. I want Flame and Shadow district troops doubling patrol shifts. We don't need another Darian situation sneaking up on us."
Vurien nodded sharply. "Understood."
"Next—trade disputes between Decay and Bone. Seriously, whose idea was it to ship food through a plague swamp?"
"They insisted it was the shortest route," Lady Zhara of Decay hissed.
"Shortest way to the afterlife, maybe," I muttered. "New route. Through Lust district. It's cleaner. Kinda."
Lady Lyssa from the Lust District smirked, lounging on her chair like a cat on a velvet cushion. "We always welcome more… traffic."
"Please no innuendos today," I said, raising a hand. "I haven't had breakfast."
More nervous chuckles.
This went on for a while—me giving commands, settling disputes, assigning resources. What surprised me most wasn't how well I was handling it. It was how naturally it came.
The power inside me wasn't just about melting things and casting thunderbolts. It whispered strategies to me. Showed me formations. Predicted enemy moves before they happened.
Somewhere in that throne, buried under smirks and jokes, sat a tactician. One that frightened even me.
After the meeting, as the council bowed and filed out, Lord Nox from the Shadow District lingered.
"You planned all that like you'd been doing this for decades."
I shrugged. "Maybe I was a chess master in a past life. Or a demon accountant."
He didn't smile. Just gave me a long, thoughtful look.
"Be careful, Your Darkness. Even kings with power beyond reason forget one thing."
I tilted my head. "Oh yeah? What's that?"
He turned, cloak vanishing into the shadows.
"Even a throne burns."
...Well, great.
Time to go melt something until I stop thinking about that cryptic mess.
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