The Demon Council Meeting
The Abyssal Realm — a place where the very air crackled with dark energy. The land was warped, twisted beyond recognition, with jagged peaks piercing the sky and rivers of black ichor flowing beneath the ground. This was the heart of the demon forces, a place where even the strongest felt the weight of oppressive power.
In a vast, foreboding chamber deep within the Abyss, the upper demons gathered. Their forms were shadowy, monstrous, their power immeasurable. They hovered just above the ground, their eyes glowing like molten fire as they assembled around an enormous stone table, ancient and carved with cryptic symbols that hummed with dark magic.
At the head of the table stood Zor'gar, Rank 1 — The Demon Lord, whose towering figure radiated an aura of terror. His voice, when he spoke, was like the roar of a thousand storms, commanding the attention of all present.
"Dravokh is dead," Zor'gar's voice echoed, filling the chamber with a heavy silence. The words hung in the air like a death knell. "And it is time we discuss what this means for our plans."
The other demons shifted, murmurs rippling through the room like a sea of black smoke. Dravokh, one of the fiercest among them, had fallen. That fact was not only shocking; it was a significant blow to their forces.
Nyxith, Rank 2 — The Shrouded Weaver, a tall figure with scales as black as night, stepped forward. "This is unacceptable. Dravokh was a force unmatched by most. Who could have defeated him?"
Zor'gar's piercing eyes narrowed. "A mortal. A mere mortal defeated Dravokh." His voice was low, simmering with barely contained fury. "This mortal… he wields power beyond comprehension."
Malzar, Rank 3 — The Mindbender, a creature whose skin shimmered with ethereal mist, hissed. "A mortal? How can this be? A human with such strength? What kind of sorcery—?"
"We are not dealing with ordinary mortals," Zor'gar interrupted sharply. "This human is something else. A force beyond this world. Dravokh's death proves that much."
The murmurs grew louder now, the demons growing agitated.
Astaroth, Rank 4 — The Warbringer, a demon with massive horns, his body rippling with molten lava, spoke next, his voice like the rumbling of an earthquake. "If we are to strike, we must strike quickly. We cannot let this 'Human' gain any more strength. He has already defeated one of our own — we cannot allow him to grow stronger."
Zor'gar raised a hand, silencing the room once again. "Patience. We will not act recklessly. The mortal's power is tied to forces beyond even our understanding. I will send my most trusted scouts to track him, to find his weaknesses. But for now, we must remain in the shadows. We cannot afford to make a move until we know more."
The room was silent, all eyes on Zor'gar as he continued.
Tarnak, Rank 5 — The Herald of Blight, a demon whose body appeared to be formed of shifting shadows, spoke up, his voice laced with contempt. "You speak of a greater threat, but what of us? If we are to fall to some mortal, what is our purpose?"
Zor'gar's gaze hardened. "Our purpose is clear. We will not allow a single mortal to undo the centuries of power we have built. Human will be dealt with, and once we know how, we will crush him. But for now, we gather our strength. We will rebuild our forces and prepare for the next phase. No one shall stand in our way."
The chamber was filled with silence as the demons absorbed Zor'gar's words. There was a sense of urgency in the air, and yet, the weight of their leader's words held them back.
Vashtar, Rank 6 — The Storm Bringer, flexed his muscles, his eyes crackling with electricity, and added, "We move swiftly. We will find Human, and we will eliminate him before he becomes a true threat. The mortal's power may be beyond comprehension, but so too is our own. Do not underestimate us."
Invidia, Rank 7 — The Seraph of Greed, a demon with a smile that could freeze the blood, leaned forward. "But patience, yes? I will not rush in blindly. We must manipulate his desires, give him something he wants, then destroy him when he is most vulnerable."
Zerath, Rank 8 — The Blood Reaver, his form a hulking mass of muscle and crimson, sneered. "Manipulation? The weak die under the weight of their desires. I prefer to tear them apart — physically. No games. No tricks. Just pure strength."
Lazzul, Rank 9 — The Lord of Shadows, his form flickering like an ethereal wraith, spoke in a cold, detached voice. "The mortal will not know what hit him. If we approach carefully, we can ensnare him in a trap of his own making. Darkness is his only ally. We shall become his shadow."
Bel'kor, Rank 10 — The Reaper of Souls, a figure draped in tattered robes, with glowing eyes, spoke with an eerie calm. "I will not rush into the hunt. It is better to learn more, draw him into our domain. Only then will we extract his soul — to see what makes him so powerful."
Kalthar, Rank 11 — The Flamebringer, a demon wreathed in fire, spoke last with a voice that crackled with heat. "Enough talking. Let's burn his world to ash. That will be the only answer needed to end this."
Zor'gar gave a final command. "The meeting is adjourned. We have much to prepare. The hunt for Tsukasa begins now."
The demons nodded, their resolve hardening as they vanished into the shadows of the Abyss. Their plans were set in motion, but the air still crackled with uncertainty. Tsukasa had killed one of their own — and now, the upper demons would stop at nothing to make sure he didn't live to see another day.