The throne room hung in thick, suffocating silence. The moment Daemon spoke, every eye locked on him.
Elias tilted his head, the old Duke's face twisting with mockery.
"Daemon what? Who the hell did you drag into this, Your Majesty? A child?" He let out a sharp, dry laugh.
The king leaned back, unbothered, his wine glass barely tilting.
"He's not just any child, Duke Elias. He's the prince of Varyndor."
The air snapped cold. The room fell dead still.
The Duke's amusement soured in an instant. His eyes narrowed on Daemon, scanning the boy's calm expression.
"So... the reincarnation of the Demon King walks freely into this palace. You must be desperate, Your Majesty, bringing a devil to your table. You've truly given up on this kingdom if you've allied with the same creature who once drowned the world in fire."
Daemon tilted his head slightly, unfazed, lips curving into a slow, cold smile.
"My reputation precedes me. I'm flattered. But the past is a story and the old me is long dead." His crimson eyes sharpened.
"I'm not here for destruction. I'm here to make sure petty rats like you don't gnaw away at the walls when the king isn't looking."
Elias's expression twisted into fury. His aura surged, pressure slamming into the room like a tidal wave.
"HOW DARE YOU LOOK DOWN ON ME, BOY!"
The force was enough to make lesser men buckle. Soldiers by the doors stumbled, struggling to breathe under the crushing weight. But Daemon stood his ground, his own dark energy rising to meet the Duke's without flinching.
Two wills clashed young and old, monster and man until the sound of splitting air cut through the tension.
A sword whistled between them, embedding itself into the stone floor, sending a shockwave through the hall.
Nyxtriel materialized from thin air, her pale form stepping out of the flickering light, crimson eyes burning.
"How dare you bare your fangs at my father, human."
Her killing intent flooded the room. Even the seasoned nobles paled, feeling the weight of something far beyond mortal.
Elias stiffened, his bravado cracking as his instincts screamed at him. He couldn't even measure her power level and that unsettled him more than the Demon King's reincarnation ever had.
"A soul weapon..." he muttered, swallowing hard. "So the rumors were true. You've got more than just the prince on your side, Your Majesty."
The king, now grinning like a cat with a cornered bird, leaned forward on his throne.
"Now you finally understand your place, Duke."
But Elias straightened his coat and smirked.
"Doesn't change a thing. The boy isn't from Aurelian. Sooner or later, he'll leave. When that day comes, your house will fall."
Robert, the advisor, flared with anger.
"You insolent traitor! How dare you!"
Daemon, cool as ever, raised a hand, cutting through the brewing chaos.
"Why waste words? Let's end this properly. No more shadows, no more plots."
He glanced between the king and the duke.
"Why don't we settle this the old-fashioned way... with war."
The king's head snapped toward him, disbelief flashing across his face.
"A war?"
Elias's lips curled into a slow, pleased grin.
"Now that, I like the sound of."
Daemon folded his arms, a quiet thrill settling in his chest. Everything was unfolding exactly as he wanted.
The king opened his mouth to speak but paused. His gaze locked with Daemon's for just a moment.
Right. He's on my side, the king thought, calming his rising doubts.
But his advisor, Robert, wasn't as easily settled. His face was red with fury, and his voice cut through the hall like a blade.
"Your Majesty! Are we really allowing this madness? War will bleed this kingdom dry coin, lives, reputation! And that boy he's the reincarnation of the Demon King! You can't trust him!"
The king raised a hand, silencing him with a calm, unsettling smile.
"Relax, Robert. I've thought this through. This isn't about trust. It's about profit. Information, power, and the right allies that's all this is."
Daemon's lips curled slightly as he shifted his gaze toward Duke Elias.
"I look forward to seeing how you act on the battlefield, Duke."
Elias let out a sharp scoff, adjusting his sleeves as if shaking off the conversation.
"Pfft. A brat like you? What do you even know about war? You're still wet behind the ears." His eyes narrowed. "That little sword of yours,you'd better polish it. You'll need it. I've got allies who'll snap you in half before you even lift it."
Daemon tilted his head, his smirk sharpening like the blade at his side.
"That makes things more interesting. But I hope you're ready too, old man because the next time I see you, I'll skin you alive and hang your head at the palace gate."
The two locked eyes, the threat hanging in the air like a blade drawn halfway from its sheath.
Elias finally turned his glare toward the king.
"Well then, Your Majesty," he hissed. "From this moment on this is war."
Without waiting for a reply, he turned on his heel and waved his hand, his voice cutting through the tense silence.
"Let's go."
The four nobles trailing behind him all smug and sharp-eyed followed in his wake. Their footsteps echoed through the hall, fading into the distance.
The nobles who remained behind looked pale and shaken. A few whispered among themselves.
"Can we even win against him?"
"There's no way... the Duke has half the kingdom's nobles at his side."
"Gods help us."
"Enough." The king's voice snapped, sharp and final. "Did you all see their faces? Traitors, the lot of them. War it is. And we will crush them for daring to stand against the crown."
He stood abruptly, his cape sweeping behind him as he left the throne room without another word.
Daemon remained behind, watching the nobles scramble and the dust settle. His smirk deepened.
This was the perfect game. Let them throw their soldiers into the fire. Let them spill their blood.
Because in the end, he wouldn't lose a thing only grow stronger.
And this war?
This war would make him unstoppable.