Rhonex was standing on top of a mountain, this was his favorite spot, when he hadn't be cursed because he was able to see the kingdom of Grimveil well. A Kingdom of supernatural creatures, living in harmony. He came to the mountain to clear his head and devise a plan. A smile curled up his lips, his usual devilish smile.
He thought about what Molan had told him: the princess was planning to cultivate well to get nine tails . It was very rare, almost impossible, for any fox to harness that kind of power because of the difficulties. But as the saying goes, "no pain, no gain". A fox who succeeded in gaining all nine tails would become immeasurably powerful.
Rhonex planned to attend the royal ball in two days. There, he'd offer the king something irresistible,power. He knew the king won't hesitate, to collect that in exchange for his daughter and after he gets his bride, he would find a way to use her to break the curse that bound him.
Just then, he heard a rustle in the grasses at one side in the mountain. Before he could react, a massive tiger tackled him to the ground.
"Ramiel!" Rhonex groaned, his back hitting the dirt. "How many times have I told you not to pounce on me like that?"
The tiger, his eyes gleaming with excitement, growled playfully. "Sorry, master. I was just so excited to see you. Welcome back."
Ronex chuckled, stroking Rommel's thick fur. "That's good to know."
Ramiel lay beside him, purring as Ronex's fingers moved gently through his fur, both of them enjoying a rare moment of calm before the storm.
Rhonex decided to head to the market to find rings for his upcoming wedding. The king hadn't approved the marriage yet, but Rhonex was certain he would. His confidence was unshakable. With his tiger, Ramiel, by his side, they made their way through the bustling streets, heading toward the black market.
As expected, Rhonex became the center of attention. With his striking appearance, his red hair, his golden eye, and the commanding aura that surrounded him, people couldn't help but stop and stare. Ramiel, majestic and massive, padded silently beside him, his eyes scanning the crowd.
Breaking the silence, Ramiel asked, "Master, what exactly are we looking for in this market?"
Rhonex, still distracted by the changes in the kingdom over the past 4,000 years, glanced at his companion and replied with only two words: "Veymorin Ring."
The Veymorin Ring, an ancient hell artifact forged by a demon goddess. She had created it for herself and her human lover, the man she loved and wanted them to be together for life, in defiance of their demon world's strict rules. In the demon realm, it was forbidden to mate with those outside their kind. But the goddess and human wore the rings anyway, sealing a sacred contract of eternal love.
Their story ended in mystery. No one knew what became of them. Some say the rings vanished with them.
Rhonex needed that relic. As an High Class Demon, he had the rare ability to sense powerful artifacts, and he could feel it now. It was close.
Rhonex sensed it, the artifact was close, somewhere near the black market. As he arrived, the pull grew stronger, leading him to a shabby, worn-out shop nestled in the shadows of the street. The windows were dusty, the wooden sign barely hanging, and the air around the place reeked of old magic. He knew immediately: a witch lived here.
He stepped up to the porch and rang the bell. Moments later, the door creaked open, revealing a woman who looked enchantingly young,too enchanting, in fact. But Rhonex could see past the illusion. Her true form bled through the glamour: greasy, jagged teeth, cracked skin hidden beneath layers of illusion, and the stench of newborn souls clinging to her like perfume.
"I want to buy the Veymorin Ring," Rhonex said flatly, wasting no time.
The witch smirked knowingly. "Ah... the rings. Took me 349 years to acquire them."
Rhonex wasn't in the mood for tales. "What do you want in return, Agnes?"
The witch froze. Her enchantment flickered for a moment. No one had spoken her true name in centuries,how could he possibly know it?
"I want a piece of your soul," she finally said, voice low. Holding the box with the rings."
Rhonex narrowed his eyes. "Such a greedy little witch. If you had asked for something more reasonable, perhaps I would have granted it. But my soul?" He smiled darkly. "Too much."
His golden eyes blazed brighter, and with one word, "Burn", fire erupted from his fingertips.
The witch screamed, dropping the box. "Please! If I'd known—!"
"Too late," Ronex said coldly, floating the box into his hand with ease.
Recognition dawned in the witch's eyes. "You… you've awakened. The devil has awakened—"
Before she could finish, Ronex snapped his fingers. She combusted into flames, vanishing with not a single trace left behind.
"Good riddance," he muttered.
As he turned, Ramiel was pouting by the doorway.
"What's wrong?" Ronex asked.
"You could've let me devour her," the tiger grumbled. "She would've been a nice snack."
Ronex chuckled. "How could I let my pet eat something so filthy? Come, I'll treat you to something better."
With that, they vanished from the spot.
They arrived at the entrance of Rhonex's castle. Ramiel disappeared, he often roamed the realms in search of adventure or his mate, occasionally taking on a human form for amusement.
Inside the castle, Mola was already waiting. He bowed deeply. "My lord, your tailor has arrived."
Rhonex yawned lazily and went to sit. The tailor, a frail-looking old man, stood by, tools in hand, ready to craft an outfit worthy of the upcoming ball.
With round glasses perched on his nose and a faint scent of fabric and fur clinging to him, the tailor stepped forward. He was clearly a werewolf, Rhonex could sense it. The man bowed deeply.
"My lord, I am Oliver," he said, presenting a few scrolls. "Here are some sketches you might like."
Ronex collected the scrolls and glanced through them. None of them captured what he envisioned. With a flick of his wrist, he burned them instantly.
The tailor flinched, heart racing. Then he dropped to his knees. "Forgive me, my lord. I am… incompetent."
Ronex sighed. "I don't need sketches to know you're a good tailor. Just make something… worthy, for the upcoming ball and my wedding."
The tailor blinked. "Wedding? This demon lord is getting married? His bride must be…..."
Ronex smirked, having read his thoughts. "Unlucky, right? My bride is surely unlucky. But we can't fight fate."
Startled, the tailor quickly corrected himself. "No, no, my lord! Your bride is the luckiest woman alive on earth!"
Ronex chuckled. "Indeed. You may go. I expect my clothes by tomorrow evening."
Then he turned to Molan. "Give him 50 gold coins."
The tailor gasped. "Fifty?! My lord, that is far too much for a mere tailor—"
Rhonex said nothing. His silence alone was the end of that conversation.
On his way out, Oliver beamed with joy. In a full year, he hardly earned 30 gold coins, and today he had made 50. "This must be a dream, he thought. I shall not disappoint the demon lord."
Back inside, Molan turned to Rhonex. "My lord, I've made all the preparations for your wedding."
"Tell me everything," Ronex replied.
"I've sent out invitations to the Hell Kingdom," Molan said proudly.
Rhonex nodded. "Good. Let them all see. Let them talk. Let the demons rage. The more noise, the better."
Molan continued, "I've also prepared a special room for your bride. I heard she likes flowers, so I filled the space with them."
"That's thoughtful," Rhonex said. "But she will stay in my room when she first arrives."
Molan bowed. "As you wish. One more thing, my lord. According to demon customs, the groom must present a gift to the bride. What do you plan to give her?"
Rhonex reached into his cloak and pulled out a small velvet box. Inside, the Veymorin Ring glowed with a pulsing, dark energy.
Molan's eyes widened. "That ring… it's dangerous!"
Rhonex smirked. "I know. That's why I'm giving it to her. But I'll give her something else too. What do you suggest, Molan?"
Molan stepped closer and whispered into his ear.
A slow smile curled on Ronex's lips. "Very well," he said. "That will do just fine."