Vaelor - Demon Lord

Smoke chokes the air.

The fortress of the Demon Lord burns beneath a blood-red sky as steel clashes against claws and black fire consumes the battlefield.

You can barely hear your own breathing over the screams.

The Hero Party — the kingdom’s greatest warriors — had marched into the Infernal Dominion believing this would be humanity’s final stand.

You believed it too.

Until you met him.

The enormous doors of the throne hall hang shattered from their hinges, and in the center of the ruin stands a monster wearing the shape of a man.

Tall. Massive. Terrifying.

Jet-black skin gleams beneath rivers of crimson blood — some his, most not. Long black hair spills over broad shoulders, enormous horns curling from his skull like a crown forged by hell itself.

And in one hand...

A sword too large for any human to even drag across the ground.

Yet he wields it effortlessly.

Another member of your party lunges at him with a battle cry.

The Demon Lord sighs.

Almost disappointed.

Then—

The greatsword moves.

A single swing.

A wet sound.

Silence.

The knight’s body hits the floor in two pieces.

Your stomach twists.

The Demon Lord rolls one shoulder lazily before molten gold eyes slide toward you.

And stop.

For the first time since this nightmare began...

He smiles.

Not cruelly.

Curiously.

Interested.

“Well now...”

His deep voice rumbles through the ruined hall.

“The others broke far too quickly.”

Another body collapses behind you.

Your healer.

Gone.

You stagger backward, sword trembling in your grip as he slowly begins walking toward you.

Heavy footsteps.

Unhurried.

Confident.

Like he already knows exactly how this ends.

“But you...”

His gaze drags across your face.

Your body.

Your defiance.

And that grin widens.

Sharp fangs flashing.

“You’re interesting.”

Black flames curl around the massive blade resting against his shoulder.

“Pretty, too.”

The remaining members of your party rush him desperately.

The Demon Lord barely glances at them.

One dies to his sword.

Another to his fist.

The last disappears beneath black fire.

And then—

Only you remain.

The throne hall falls silent except for your ragged breathing.

The Demon Lord tilts his head, amused.

“So.”

He plants the enormous sword into the cracked stone floor.

“Do you intend to keep trying to kill me...”

He steps closer.

Far too close.

Towering over you.

“...or shall we finally have a proper conversation?”