Feng Deming sat upon a golden throne in the Flare Wing Palace of Middle Astara and mused, "I have restored order after the chaos left by the previous Supreme Leader... ever since that day..."
Flashback
Deming arrived in Astara, a realm where mountains reached the sky, surrounding the land like a protective cloak. At the heart of Astara stood a city far more advanced than any other, where history, culture, art, and academia thrived. The grand palace served as the city's crown jewel, its stone walls adorned with stunning carvings portraying the culture and artistry of the Astaran people.
Approaching the palace gates, childhood memories flooded his mind, urging him toward the grand throne room, where his sworn enemy awaited.
The massive doors swung open, and Deming stepped inside, dominating the hall. The Astaran Supreme and the council gaped as the boy they remembered from his youth had matured into a tall adult.
Murmurs filled the chamber. One council member whispered to another, "Isn't that Prince Feng Deming? Wasn't he declared dead?"
Deming's malicious gaze landed on the king's, driven by a thirst for revenge. "Former lieutenant and servant of my father... how dare you sit on my throne!" he taunted in a fierce, deep voice, burning with rage in his glare. "You parasite... You sold me to the fairies as a slave. You disgust me."
Gasps and cries of outrage echoed throughout the throne room. The once-mighty King of Kings shifted, his eyes darting around the room. His composure crumbled as he struggled to comprehend how Deming's escape had occurred.
"What? Did you truly believe I would remain imprisoned forever?" Deming summoned forth a raven-black sword with a sinister aura.
The king attempted to regain control. "These accusations are nonsense! If anyone is breaking the law, it is you, entering my palace uninvited... GUARDS!"
"I made you a promise that day, and as you are aware, I always honor my promises." Deming's gaze bore into the former lieutenant, causing bystanders to recoil in horror. "Your reign ends today, and I will ensure not a single statue is made in your likeness, nor will any Astaran speak your name again until you are forgotten..." he paused, holding his own hand before him with indifference. "Also, why would I need permission to enter my own palace?"
The king's heart sank as he grasped the direness of his situation. With trembling hands, he drew his sword in a desperate attempt to defend himself. Yet, before he could raise his blade, Deming moved with lightning speed, striking before the king could lift his sword. With a swift blow, the prince shattered the king's defenses, leaving him gasping as his life force ebbed away.
Deming stood over the fallen ruler, his breath heavy with anger, and the council members fell to their knees.
End Flashback
Snapping to the present, Deming's jaw clenched, and a twisted smile crept onto his lips. "Soon, I shall reclaim Astara's lost lands and historical artifacts from the Fairy Tribe... Yet, this is merely the beginning."
"My lord," a soldier clad in bulky black armor knelt before Deming. "The King of the West has defied your order. How shall I convey your response?"
Snapping out of his reverie, Deming's piercing gaze cut through the soldier, like ice through warm flesh. "It seems my benevolence has been mistaken for weakness," he growled, his deep voice sinister, sending shivers down the soldier's spine. His jaw clenched, the tension hinting at the anger simmering beneath his composed exterior. "However, there is indeed a message I demand to be conveyed."
The soldier trembled under Deming's intense scrutiny as the Demon King rose from his throne. Each step echoed with an ominous presence in the grand hall, telling a tale of the destruction he had unleashed and the countless lives he had crushed beneath his heel, their anguished cries of despair haunting their memories.
Deming stood tall before the soldier, radiating regal elegance with his dark-brown hair flowing down to his thighs, as if drawn with a quill and ink. He wore multi-layered black garments and a golden half-crown. The horn-like protrusions on either side of the crown emphasized his esteemed status as the Demon King.
With eyes blazing like molten gold, Deming commanded, "Lock him away. Let his fate serve as a warning to all who would dare cross me."
"Yes, my lord!" The guards seized the soldier with vice-like grips, their hands clamping down hard on his arms.
Stunned by the swift judgment, the soldier protested, "But why, my lord? I'm inno—"
"Innocent?" Deming interrupted with a mocking sneer. "Do not insult my intelligence. Your loyalty has been compromised, and you know it full well."
With a nod from Deming, the guards dragged the soldier away. He pleaded, but the heavy thud of the closing chamber doors silenced his cries.
Alone once more, Deming turned to the window, his aloof eyes narrowing as he gazed out over the moonlit landscape. The night whispered its secrets, but darker ambitions consumed his mind. "West Astara shall kneel at my feet," he whispered to the darkness, a cruel smirk twisting his lips. "Soon."
With that, he turned away from the window and headed for his chambers, seeking to embrace the night's darkness as he prepared for rest.
I'm reducing my updates of "Demon King's Love" from three times a week to twice a week. I'll schedule them on Wednesdays and Saturdays.
For those who want to read more often than twice a week, I'll grant "early access" to my Patreon. I publish there as soon as new parts are written.
https://www.Patreon.com/AuroraLuxi
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