The throne room pulsed with the residue of fury.
Shattered glass sparkled like fallen stars across the black marble floor, catching what little light dared to remain. Shadows coiled around the Demon King like loyal hounds, sensing his madness… his hope.
After two thousand years of silence, Raelith felt alive.
He stood unmoving for a long moment—his eyes locked on the glowing mark etched into his wrist, the only proof that his soul had ever belonged to another. It burned with the promise of fate, with a heartbeat not his own.
The priest's words still echoed.
"She's alive."
That was all he needed.
"Karl."
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
The air cracked from the weight of it.
Across the continents, from the blood-soaked borders of the Demon Realm, a horn of summoning sounded—ancient and binding. A direct order from the king himself.
And within the hour, a portal carved from black fire opened in the throne room.
A man stepped through.
Tall. Battle-scarred. His armor still drenched in the blood of angels and beasts. Golden eyes sharp with instinct, but warm with familiarity.
He dropped to one knee the moment he saw Raelith.
"Your Majesty," he said, voice firm but reverent. "It's been too long."
Raelith turned slowly.
For the first time in two millennia, his expression cracked.
"…Karl."
His oldest friend.
His most trusted blade.
The only witness to the love that once set the realms ablaze.
Raelith didn't speak at first. He simply extended his arm, letting the glowing mark shimmer in the dim room.
Karl's eyes widened.
"No…"
The disbelief in his voice gave way to stunned joy.
"She's—!?"
Raelith nodded.
"She lives," he said softly. "The bond awakened two nights ago. I felt it burn through my bones. Through my soul."
Karl surged to his feet, a smile breaking across his face.
After centuries of war, death, and ruin—he smiled.
"By the seven hells, she's returned…" Karl breathed. "The only one who could ever bend you, your majesty. The only one who made the Great Demon King kneel."
Raelith didn't deny it.
He never had.
He had ruled with fear.
Conquered with blood.
But only Seraphina had made him feel.
He clenched his fist now, forcing himself to remain steady.
Karl stepped closer. "Where is she? Has she been reborn as a demon? again? A mortal?"
"That's what we don't know," Raelith muttered. "She is in this world… but her memories—"
He looked down at the mark again, his eyes darkening.
"They're sealed."
Karl's smile faltered.
"She doesn't remember you?"
"No," Raelith said. His voice turned sharp, venomous with frustration. "She doesn't know who she is. Doesn't remember us. Doesn't know what we were. What we are."
The power radiating off him made the floor crack. Flames licked his fingertips, but he forced them down.
Karl's expression turned grim, but his eyes never lost their light.
"Then we'll make her remember," he said. "We'll find her. We'll bring her back. No matter what it takes."
Raelith looked at him.
And for the first time in ages… he allowed himself a flicker of hope.
"Search every corner of this realm," he ordered. "Every city, every ruin, every drop of dirt."
"Yes, my king."
"I want her found before the next blood moon," Raelith said, turning toward the windows that no longer existed. His voice dropped lower. "And if anyone dares hide her from me—burn them."
Karl bowed his head.
"As you command."
Raelith said nothing else.
He walked slowly to the center of the broken chamber. His long black cloak dragged behind him like a second shadow.
The cheer that rose shook the stars themselves.
The old him—the Demon King who bathed in silence and ruled in isolation—would have waited.
Watched.
Planned from the shadows.
But this time was different.
This time… his queen had returned.
He would no longer hide in the dark.
With one flick of his hand, the Infernal Gong echoed across the Demon Realm—a sound not heard in two thousand years.
The citizens froze.
The skies over the realm turned black.
A crack of thunder split the clouds.
Then, from atop the palace's highest tower—
Raelith appeared.
For the first time since his fall into dormancy, he stood before his people.
The Demon King.
The Void Sovereign.
The Apex.
He stood tall, his obsidian crown pulsing with flame. His aura poured into the skies like an endless storm, suffocating, commanding, divine.
Demons fell to their knees.
Even beasts bowed.
He raised one hand.
The realm held its breath.
"Two millennia have passed," he said, his voice echoing through every soul that bore the mark of darkness. "And you believed your king would never rise again."
He paused, letting silence fall.
Then—
"She has returned."
Gasps rippled through the cities.
Raelith's eyes gleamed.
"Your queen… is coming back."
He smiled.
A real smile.
Sharp. Triumphant. Ruthless.
"Let the worlds tremble again."