Noon.
The bells of Silverring Castle chimed softly through the marble corridors, their echoes swallowed by the vast chamber where King Nohan III sat upon his throne. Age had not dulled him; it had carved him sharper. His beard flowed like silver water, and the sapphire-studded crown upon his head glimmered with a cold, unwavering light. He had always preferred sapphire over gold. Gold bends. Sapphire does not.
His attire matched his unbending nature: a midnight-blue mantle trimmed with white ermine, an indigo silk tunic marked with sharp, geometric embroidery, and a belt of polished sapphire plates that flashed like cold judgment. Even his obsidian leather boots seemed designed to silence entire conversations.
The throne room doors burst open.
A royal guard stumbled inside, sweat streaking down his face.
"Your… Your Majesty!" he gasped, collapsing to his knees. "A demon… the kingdom reports a demon!"
The eunuch beside the king clicked his tongue.
"Compose yourself. Panic only feeds disaster."
The guard pressed his forehead to the floor.
"Sire, a demon has appeared outside the capital. It's tearing through everything. Our knights… can't contain it."
"A demon?" King Nohan's steady composure finally cracked.
Before he could question further, the grand doors slammed open again.
Pope Albert strode in, ceremonial armor gleaming beneath a crimson cloak.
"Your Majesty," he said, bowing with practiced elegance, "there is no cause for alarm. I have already deployed our elite forces. The creature will be dealt with swiftly."
King Nohan studied him with cool, razor-edged scrutiny.
"Is that so? Then I intend to witness this creature myself."
A flicker of unease passed over Albert's features.
"With respect, Your Majesty, approaching it would be reckless. For your safety, the demon must not come near the castle."
The king's stare hardened.
"And now you presume to define recklessness for me?"
Albert bowed sharply.
"My apologies. My only wish is to protect you."
A sudden flash of white flooded the king's vision.
A translucent screen appeared before him, unseen by all others.
SYSTEM: INITIATE CONTACT WITH THE DEMON LORD.
His breath hitched.
"A… demon lord?" he whispered.
He turned sharply toward the captain.
"Tell me… do you see it?"
"See what, Your Majesty?"
"The system."
The captain shook his head, discomfort clear.
"No, my king. I see nothing."
"You may go," Nohan said quietly. "Albert stays."
The guard fled. Albert remained, hands clasped politely.
"Is something troubling Your Majesty?" he asked.
"Summon a saint."
Albert bowed, expression unreadable.
"At once."
He exited the hall.
The eunuch stepped closer.
"Your Majesty… does something weigh on you?"
Nohan didn't answer immediately. His fingers drummed against the throne, each tap echoing like a ticking clock.
"That demon…" he murmured. "Something feels off."
"Do you distrust the report?"
"I distrust everything," Nohan said. "The timing… the location… and Albert's response. Too swift. Too clean. Too prepared."
Another shimmer appeared in the air.
SYSTEM: THE DEMON LORD MUST ENTER THE CASTLE.
Nohan's pulse quickened.
The eunuch noticed the shift.
"Your Majesty?"
But the king said nothing.
Only he could see the command.
Only he felt the cold shadow settling over his throne.
Moments later, the doors creaked open. The king froze, half expecting the Demon Lord.
Albert hurried inside and bowed.
"Your Majesty, the saints may be delayed. Their carriage suffered an accident."
"What?" the king snapped. "Find them and bring them here immediately!"
Albert knelt.
"Forgive me, Your Majesty."
Nohan muttered under his breath, "What am I supposed to do now…"
A guard crashed into the hall, panting.
"Your Majesty! The… the Demon Lord—"
A blade erupted through his throat, cutting off his words. Blood poured onto the marble as he collapsed.
The king staggered back in horror.
"Guards! Guards! Someone—!" the eunuch cried.
His plea ended in a wet choke as a blade slashed across his neck. He collapsed beside the guard, blood pooling beneath them.
The king tried to run, but blood surged across the floor like a living serpent. It hardened into a spear and struck the marble beside him, sending cracks splintering outward. His limbs froze.
A woman stepped inside, her red eyes glowing like fresh blood. Long white hair flowed behind her black dress.
Rosella bowed gracefully.
"Your Majesty."
Another figure entered, footsteps heavy with confidence.
Astaroth.
He surveyed the carnage and laughed, deep and cruel.
"Hahahahaha! These are the defenders of your kingdom? Pathetic."
Rosella straightened.
"Welcome, my lord."
Astaroth brushed back his black hair, revealing a sharp jaw and a muscular frame slick with someone else's blood.
"Good work, Rosella. This kingdom truly was built on weaklings."
The king trembled, unable to move or speak.
Astaroth's gaze shifted.
"And you as well, Albert. You performed admirably."
The king's eyes widened.
"You… traitor!"
Albert stepped forward, lowering his head toward Astaroth. A small, satisfied smile curved his lips.
"It was a simple task, my lord," he said, bowing deeply.
Astharoth didn't strike King Nohan III down right away. For someone branded the heir of destruction, he stood there in eerie silence, eyes dark as a bottomless void, studying the trembling king like he was some broken puzzle piece. Rosselia waited beside him, sword ready, breath sharp.
Rosella didn't answer immediately. Her gaze drifted to the fallen king, watching him with the cold focus of a hunter measuring the final strike. King Nohan tried to hold her stare, but the terror trembling in his eyes betrayed him.
A thin ribbon of blood twisted around her fingers, gathering into a sharp arrow. It slid through the air toward his throat, close enough that he felt the chill of its edge brush his skin.
Astharoth tilted his head, almost amused. "You're too quick to cut loose ends, Rosselia."
Her brows pinched. She knew that tone. "You're… letting him live?"
"Hardly." Astharoth flicked his fingers, and the knights holding Nohan yanked him upright. "A corpse can't talk. And I want answers."
Rosselia stared at him, genuinely stunned. He never kept enemies alive. Not kings. Not tyrants. No one.
But she didn't dare ask.
King Nohan was dragged away, screaming something about betrayal and divine punishment as they hauled him toward the deepest prison beneath the castle.
Astharoth finally turned to Pope Albert, who knelt like a man caught between worship and terror.
"You sent word to the saints?" Astharoth asked.
Albert swallowed. "Yes… but they were intercepted. It's been handled."
Astharoth's low laugh rolled through the ruined throne room, sharp enough to cut stone. "Good. Then let's move to your real job."
Albert tensed. "My… real job, my lord?"
"Drop the shield around Silverring. The barrier your church raised is blocking my armies." His eyes flared briefly, the torchlight bending toward him like it feared to disobey. "Do not make me repeat myself."
"N-Never, my lord." Albert scrambled to his feet and hurried out.
Rosselia watched him go. "You trust him with that?"
"I trust his fear of me more than his faith in his gods."
Albert's footsteps echoed through the cathedral halls when he returned to his church. His disciples stared, confused as he slammed open the holy chamber where the protective relic glowed like a dying star. The barrier stone pulsed, holding back the demons gathering at Silverring's borders.
"Pope Albert?" one of them whispered. "You said the barrier must never fall."
Albert's expression twisted with something between dread and devotion. "The lord of this world has spoken. If you question me…" His voice sharpened. "Then you question divine authority."
That shut them up fast.
He raised his staff, chanting words he was never supposed to utter. The barrier groaned, its light flickering like a candle in a storm. Cracks spread through the air itself.
Outside, the sky shivered.
And slowly the great shield protecting Silverring Kingdom sank.