The doors to the Throne Hall loomed before them—massive, engraved with depictions of ancient wars, demonic conquests, and the rise of rulers past. These gates were a testament to the weight of authority and power that resided within the chamber.
Anos stood before them, arms folded, his ruby-red eyes burning with an unreadable expression. He could feel it.
Beyond these doors, his council awaited.
A group of beings who shaped the politics of the Demon Realm. Unlike the noble houses, who held influence over individual territories, the Council was directly bound to the throne itself. Their power was immense—unrivaled in both might and command. But above all else, they were unwaveringly loyal to the true ruler of the Demon Realm.
For centuries, that ruler had been Iris.
But now, they were about to meet their true King.
Iris, standing beside him, cast him a glance laced with amusement. "Are you ready?"
Anos smirked. "Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?"
She chuckled before stepping forward. With a mere flick of her midnight-purple eyes, the grand doors groaned open, revealing the chamber beyond.
—
Inside the Throne Hall
A grand obsidian chamber, its walls lined with infernal torches and runic inscriptions, stretched before them. The atmosphere was heavy, the very air vibrating with the power of the beings that resided within.
At the far end, a circular table rested beneath a colossal chandelier of black crystal, its jagged edges radiating a faint, pulsing glow. Seated around this table were the Council.
They were already waiting.
One by one, their gazes locked onto Anos.
For a moment, there was silence. Then—
Every single one of them immediately knelt.
Their voices rang out in unison:
"We greet the Monarch of the Demon Realm!"
Anos's smirk widened as he stepped forward, his presence alone shaking the chamber.
It was time to claim his throne.
Anos took slow, deliberate steps into the grand Throne Hall, his ruby-red eyes scanning the kneeling council members. Though their heads were bowed in submission, their intense gazes remained fixed on him, brimming with intrigue.
Unlike the usual image of a council filled with elderly advisors, this one was far from ordinary.
They were all women.
Beautiful. Powerful. Demonic.
Each of the twenty demonesses exuded an overwhelming presence, their appearances ranging from elegant and refined to wild and untamed. Some bore horns, others had wings, while a few possessed tails swaying in barely contained excitement.
Anos's smirk deepened.
Iris really made sure no other men stood near her.
Despite their varying demeanors, they all shared one thing in common—an insatiable curiosity toward him.
The Monarch they had awaited.
Iris, standing beside Anos, raised her hand, signaling the council members to rise. "The Demon Realm welcomes its true ruler," she announced, her midnight-purple eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "From this moment forth, Anos De Luna sits upon the throne."
A wave of murmurs erupted.
One of the demonesses stepped forward. She was tall and graceful, her dark-red horns curving backward elegantly, matching the crimson hue of her slit-pupil eyes. Her long silver hair cascaded down her back, and a smirk tugged at her lips.
"So, this is our new King?" Her voice was smooth, teasing, yet laced with power.
She placed a hand on her hip, the revealing slit in her robe exposing a toned thigh. "I must say, you're far younger than I expected."
Another demoness, this one with midnight-blue hair and piercing golden eyes, scoffed. "What does age matter? Power is the only thing that determines a ruler."
A third demoness, who had sleek black wings folded behind her, chuckled. "True, but we can't have a weak king, can we?" Her violet lips curled into a smirk. "Tell me, Your Majesty, how do you intend to prove yourself?"
Anos watched the growing excitement in their expressions.
They weren't questioning his right to rule—they were simply intrigued by him.
He let out a low chuckle, stepping forward until he stood at the center of the chamber. "Prove myself?" His voice was silken with amusement. "I don't need to prove anything. I already rule you."
His ruby-red eyes flashed, and in an instant—
The entire Throne Hall trembled.
A wave of deathly aura surged outward, flooding the chamber like a tide of pure suppression. The walls creaked, the torches flickered, and the air itself turned heavy.
Even the powerful demonesses gasped, their knees weakening under the sheer force of his presence.
Some instinctively bit their lips, while others shuddered, their bodies reacting in a way they hadn't expected. They were eager to fight their ruler.
Anos's obsidian-black coat fluttered, his smirk never fading. "Still doubtful?"
The silver-haired demoness let out a breathless laugh, her cheeks flushed. "No, no… That was quite the display, Your Majesty." She licked her lips. "I like you already."
The winged demoness folded her arms, eyeing him with newfound respect and excitement. "A ruler who doesn't bow to anyone… I approve."
The murmurs among the council turned into a chorus of agreement, some laughing, others smirking.
Iris, standing beside Anos, smirked. They were hooked.
With the atmosphere shifted, another demoness stepped forward. She had emerald-green hair that cascaded like vines, and her eyes shimmered like living jade. Her curved horns gave her a regal, almost primordial appearance.
"Your Majesty," she purred, "we were expecting a ruler, but we weren't expecting… you."
Another demoness, this one with golden scales lining her arms, chimed in. "You're a mystery, even to us." Her cat-like yellow eyes gleamed with mischief. "So… why don't we fix that?"
Anos raised a brow. "Fix it?"
The silver-haired demoness smirked. "We all specialize in different combat styles. Since you're new, we thought…" She tilted her head. "Why not let each of us train you?"
A wave of agreement rippled through the council.
"Yes! Let's see how our King fights!"
"He's strong, but does he have technique?"
"Wouldn't it be fun to… educate him?"
Some were grinning mischievously, while others looked genuinely eager.
Anos chuckled. "Oh? And what do each of you specialize in?"
One by one, they began listing their expertise:
The silver-haired demoness: Swordsmanship & Assassin Arts
The emerald-haired demoness: Nature Magic & Elemental Manipulation
The golden-scaled demoness: Hand-to-Hand Combat & Draconic Techniques
The winged demoness: Aerial Combat & Shadow Magic
The cat-eyed demoness: Stealth & Illusions
The red-eyed demoness with black horns: Fire Manipulation & Blood Magic
The list went on—twenty deadly women, each a master of their field, all eager to test their new King.
Anos grinned, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
"So, twenty beautiful demonesses want to train me, hmm?"
The silver-haired one smirked. "Is that a problem, Your Majesty?"
He let out a deep chuckle. "Not at all. In fact…" His ruby eyes flashed with wicked amusement. "I quite like the idea."
The council laughed, some rolling their eyes, others watching him with predatory interest.
Iris crossed her arms, her lips twitching upward. "Looks like you'll be busy, Anos."
Anos smirked. "Busy? No. This sounds like fun."
The demonesses exchanged knowing glances.
Their King was going to be a handful.
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