Five days later.
It was gathering day—the most dangerous figures in the Demon Realm, summoned under the orders of the Demon King, Cassian.
He looked at them and sighed inwardly, though his expression remained cold and unreadable. He couldn't afford even the slightest slip. Though they were his generals, the moment they sensed weakness, they would turn on him without hesitation.
That would turn into a civil war, and he could be in danger before the hero even obtained the holy sword.
Among the three, the most dangerous was Lilith.
The Queen of Succubi, she held dominion over intelligence, espionage, and strategy—the unseen force that shaped outcomes long before battles began. Wars in the Demon Realm that ended too quickly, too perfectly, almost always carried her influence.
Beside her stood Vorgath.
The Lich King.
Death given form, his hollow eyes burning with cold soul-fire. His armies neither tired nor feared. At a single command, countless undead advanced without pause—an unending tide that crushed anything in its path. Of the three, he was the least troublesome. His focus lay solely on magic and research, not power or the throne.
Then there was Nyros.
The Demon Dragon King.
He didn't need words. His presence alone weighed on the hall, the pride and dominance of the draconic race condensed into a single being. Unlike the others, he was ambitious—always watching, always waiting. If Cassian showed even a moment of weakness, Nyros would act.
Three generals. Three monsters.
Each one capable of ruling a realm alone.
Cassian let his gaze pass over them once before speaking.
"So, I have an announcement to make. I'll be stepping away from the demon realm and the throne for five years. There are matters I need to handle personally… matters that could become a threat to the realm if ignored."
The reaction wasn't immediate, but the shift was clear. Lilith didn't react much, because she already knew about it.
Vorgath stepped forward first. The dim flames in his hollow eyes flickered, betraying just enough surprise to matter.
"Five years is not a short absence, Your Majesty. If this concerns the realm, it becomes our concern as well."
Cassian didn't move.
"It doesn't."
The reply cut cleanly through the hall.
Vorgath held his gaze, as if weighing whether to continue, then inclined his head.
"Understood."
He stepped back without another word, accepting the boundary for what it was.
Nyros moved next, his presence far less restrained. His steps echoed once against the stone before he stopped at the center, his eyes fixed on the throne
"If Your Majesty intends to leave, then someone must take command. The realm cannot remain leaderless for five years."
Cassian rested his chin lightly against his hand, studying him with quiet attention rather than urgency.
He isn't worried about the threat to the realm at all—his focus is entirely on the throne.
"Of course."
Nyros didn't ease at that answer. His gaze stayed fixed, unwavering.
"Then name them."
That was the real question.
Not why Cassian was leaving, not what threat he spoke of, but who would hold power in his absence.
Nyros didn't bother hiding it. The slight shift in his stance, the way his shoulders squared just a fraction more, made his intent clear enough. A dragon did not overlook an empty throne, and in his mind, there was no one more suited to claim it.
If the Demon King stepped away, then the strongest should take his place.
And he had never doubted who that was.
"It will be Lilith."
The answer came without a pause, as if it had been decided long before this moment.
Nyros' expression tightened for the briefest second before he forced it back under control. The reaction was small, but it didn't disappear. His gaze moved toward Lilith, measuring, then returned to Cassian, the disagreement clear even without words.
"I expected that might not sit well," Cassian said, his tone even, untouched by the tension it caused. "But this decision wasn't made lightly. Nyros, you are the strongest after me, that much is true."
"But ruling a realm demands more than strength. It requires control, foresight, and the ability to think beyond the immediate."
There was no way in hell he would hand the throne to someone like that—a man who embodied the worst traits of a dragon, arrogant, impulsive, and blind to consequence. He confused recklessness with strength and thought authority came from force instead of control.
Give him the throne, and war wouldn't need time to build. It would begin the moment he took power, pushing straight into human and elven lands without hesitation or thought.
And just like that, all of Cassian's future plans would be ruined by a single decision.
Nyros' eyes narrowed slightly, not in confusion but in challenge.
"Then tell me, Your Majesty," he said, his voice dropping just enough to carry weight without rising, "what exactly am I lacking compared to that succubus?"
Before Cassian could respond, Lilith stepped in.
"Watch your tongue, Nyros," she said, her voice sharp, her gaze cutting straight into him. "Are you underestimating me?"
Nyros let out a low scoff, the sound filled with open disdain.
"I'm stating facts," he replied without hesitation. "You don't even deserve your position as a general, and now you think you can sit on the throne?"
Lilith's eyes hardened. A faint smile forming, though there was nothing pleasant about it.
"And yet," she said slowly, "I was chosen over you."
Nyros' expression darkened.
"A ruler should lead from the front," he shot back. "Not hide behind schemes and whispers like some court manipulator."
"And a ruler should think before acting," Lilith returned immediately. "Not charge blindly just because they have the strength to break things."
Nyros stepped forward, and the air in the room grew heavier as his humanoid form began to shift, scales creeping along his skin and something far less restrained pressing against the surface.
"Say that again."
Lilith didn't move, meeting his gaze without the slightest hesitation.
"Strength without control is just stupidity dressed as power," she said flatly.
A low rumble escaped Nyros, his patience thinning.
"At least I don't rely on tricks and charm to get what I want."
Cassian let out a quiet sigh as he watched the two of them go at each other, the tension in the hall rising with every exchange. It wasn't surprising, but seeing it laid out this clearly made one thing obvious.
There was no unity among them.
Lilith didn't trust men and carried that hatred openly, Nyros let his pride speak before his head, and Vorgath—Cassian's gaze flicked briefly toward the Lich King—remained completely detached, as if none of this mattered as long as his undead legions were left alone.
No wonder the demon realm collapsed so fast after the Demon King died, Cassian thought, his expression barely shifting.
They had strength, intelligence, and numbers.
What they lacked was cohesion.
And without that, none of it meant anything.
"Quiet all of you."
The command wasn't loud, but it cut through the hall like a blade. The air tightened instantly, a cold pressure spreading as all three felt it at once.
Cassian's eyes burned faintly as he tapped the armrest of the throne, each tap slow and deliberate, carrying more weight than any shout.
"If you have a problem with my decision," he continued, his voice calm but heavy, "then bring it to me directly."
His gaze moved across them, pausing just long enough to make the meaning clear.
"The rules haven't changed. If you're confident, challenge me, take the throne, and prove it."
The tapping stopped.
"Otherwise—listen."
"As you command, Your Majesty."
All three knelt.
There was no hesitation. Whatever tension had been building vanished under the weight of his presence. None of them were foolish enough to take that next step.
Challenging the Demon King wasn't a matter of pride.
It was suicide.
Cassian wasn't just stronger—he was absolute. A being who had wiped out an entire demon race, one that rivaled dragons in strength, simply because they dared to challenge his authority.
That wasn't a rumor.
That was a warning carved into history.
And none of them intended to become the next example.
"Good," Cassian said, his voice steady as his gaze moved over them. "Then during these five years, you will take care of the demon realm in my absence."
"Otherwise," he continued, his eyes narrowing, "when I return, I won't be as lenient."
With that, he rose and walked out, leaving the weight of his words behind. The moment he was gone, the three of them stood, but the tension didn't ease. If anything, it sharpened.
Nyros hadn't moved much, yet the anger on his face hadn't faded. His pride wouldn't allow it, not when a low-born succubus had been given the throne to sit on while he stood below. The insult settled deep, and it showed.
His gaze snapped toward Lilith. "What did you do?" he demanded, his voice edged with restrained fury. "What kind of trick did you use on his majesty to make him hand you the throne?"
Lilith let out a quiet laugh, unbothered, almost amused. "A trick?" she repeated, tilting her head slightly. "You give me too much credit. His majesty simply knows who is worth trusting."
Her eyes flicked over him once, slow and deliberate. "And it clearly isn't someone who thinks charging into human territory is a strategy."
Nyros's jaw tightened. "It's our right," he shot back. "Humans are weak, and the demon realm has always followed strength. Desire, conquest—that's what defines us."
"And yet," Lilith replied without missing a beat, "he chose me."
That was enough to push him over the edge. "You—" The word came out sharp, cut off as his anger spiked, his hands curling slightly as if he was one step away from acting on it. Her words landed clean, each one pressing harder against his pride than the last.
Off to the side, Vorgath watched the exchange with little interest. He gave a small shake of his head, already turning away. There was nothing to gain from staying, and far more productive things waiting for him elsewhere, especially his ongoing work with the undead.
Lilith took a step forward, closing the distance just enough to make her intent clear, a faint smile resting on her lips. "Go on," she said, her voice calm, almost inviting. "I'm right here."
Nyros's presence flared for a moment, the pressure in the hall rising as his frustration peaked, but it never turned into action. He exhaled sharply and turned away.
The floor trembled under his steps as he walked off, anger still clinging to him, unresolved.
"And His Majesty has also agreed to marry me after five years."
That made him stop.
Nyros turned back, his gaze sharp, as if demanding confirmation. Why would the Demon King agree to that?
"Yes," Lilith said calmly. "So prepare to welcome your future queen."
That only worsened his mood. He was already forced to acknowledge her standing above him, and now this meant he would have to show her even greater respect.
Why would the Demon King choose her? She isn't even a complete succubus.
The thought lingered as he left, his anger only deepening.
Watching Nyros leave in anger brought her a brief sense of satisfaction, but it didn't last. Lilith's gaze shifted to the empty throne, lingering for a moment before she moved toward it, each step measured as she closed the distance.
There was no rush in her pace, just a quiet certainty as she reached it and turned, lowering herself into the seat. She settled back, crossing one leg over the other, her posture relaxed but deliberate, as if testing how naturally it fit her.
"Bram, are you there?" she called, her voice carrying through the hall without effort.
A faint distortion stirred in the air before Bram appeared, bowing his head the moment he took form. "Yes, Your Highness."
Lilith's brow lifted slightly, a trace of curiosity slipping into her expression. "Highness?"
"His Majesty's orders," Bram replied evenly. "For the next five years, I am to assist you in all matters and act under your command."
She leaned back against the throne, studying him in silence for a brief moment, weighing his words more than his presence. "Did he tell you where he's going?"
Bram held her gaze, but there was nothing to offer. "No, Your Highness."
The answer didn't surprise her, though it didn't sit well either. Lilith let out a quiet breath before waving her hand dismissively. "You can leave."
Bram bowed once more and vanished just as quickly as he had appeared, leaving the hall to its silence again.
Lilith's fingers traced lightly along the armrest before going still, her gaze drifting forward as her thoughts circled back to the same point. "Where is he even going for five years…" she murmured, more to herself than anyone else.
The question lingered, but she didn't let it hold her for long. There were more immediate matters to deal with, things that couldn't wait on answers she didn't have.
Her gaze dropped to the throne beneath her, and without meaning to, her fingers brushed through her hair. The motion slowed, then stilled, as something older surfaced.
"Now…" she murmured under her breath, her voice quieter, colder, "now I have enough power to kill the one who took everything from me."
Her eyes hardened, a sharp edge settling into them as fragments of the past forced their way forward.
She remembered the moment clearly—the pain, the humiliation, the way her horns had been cut away as if they were nothing more than trophies to be claimed. For a succubus, they weren't just a part of the body, they were identity, status, proof of what she was.
And they had taken that from her.
Reduced her to something lesser, something to be displayed and discarded. She remembered the way she had been treated afterward, not as a demon, but as something closer to an animal, something that had lost its place.
Even now, the echoes of it remained. The looks, the whispers spoken just out of reach, the way some still dared to speak behind her back as if she couldn't hear them.
Her hand tightened slightly against the armrest, the faintest shift betraying the anger she kept contained.
That hadn't been forgotten.
And now, sitting on this throne, with authority in her hands and no one above her to stop her, the distance between memory and action no longer felt so far.
This time, it wouldn't end the same way.
*****
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