★2§5.10
THIRD POV
Somewhere in Jistav, an elf made his way toward the heart of a vast and foreboding kingdom, a land alive with the restless energy of dark elves, majins, and countless other sinister creatures. The air was heavy with an aura of vigilance, and every shadow seemed to twitch with unseen movement.
As he approached the main hall, two colossal guardians emerged, their grotesque clown masks twisted into permanent, mocking grins.
Their sheer size and menacing stance radiated authority and danger, effectively intimidating anyone who dared step forward.
"I'm here for a report."
The elf stated, his voice steady and measured, carrying both command and composure.
The guardians, without a word, silently stepped aside, their movements precise and deliberate, granting him passage.
Inside, the hall was an immense chamber of stone and shadow, its silence almost tangible.
The emptiness was not mere absence, it was deliberate, a reflection of the power and vigilance that permeated the space. The walls were adorned with dark tapestries and arcane symbols, echoing the kingdom's history of strength and vigilance.
He walked confidently to the center, the echo of his footsteps resonating off the high ceilings, and knelt with measured precision, a gesture of both respect and readiness, signaling he was prepared to present whatever report was demanded.
"What is it, Rall?"
A voice rang out, distorted yet commanding, coming from someone wearing a grotesque clown mask, standing just beside a throne.
The throne itself was occupied by a dark, imposing figure, radiating an aura of authority that seemed to suck the light from the room.
Behind the throne, five more dark figures knelt in perfect formation, each wearing a distinct clown mask, their posture rigid and disciplined, giving the impression of unwavering loyalty, or perhaps fear.
The air in the hall was thick with tension, the combination of shadowed silhouettes and eerie masks making the space feel almost alive with menace.
"Forgive me... the elves are all gone."
"So what?"
"The entire village was empty. Only the ashes were felt. However, all the settlements were cleared, and from the looks of it, someone took the elves.".
"So, did you find out who took them or where they took them?"
"No."
"Vector was killed too?"
The clown asked, his tone deceptively calm.
"Like I said.."
Rall replied, voice trembling,
"Only ashes remain."
In an instant, the clown's manic grin twisted further into a mask of pure insanity. With terrifying speed, his gloved hand shot forward, snaking around Rall's neck with crushing force.
The air around them seemed to hum with malevolence as he lifted the elf clean off the ground, Rall's legs dangling helplessly.
"This information isn't useful."
The clown hissed, his voice laced with venom, his grin stretching impossibly wide, almost grotesque.
"You'd be better off dead, too."
Despite the choking pressure, Rall struggled to speak.
"I… s… one of… my men was disguised… among… the elves."
"Continue…"
The clown commanded, eyes glinting with cruel anticipation.
"He told me… someone took them to… some unknown island… called Star Island, where an… individual claims… he'll be a Demon Lord and protect… them."
At that, the clown's grip abruptly loosened, sending Rall crashing to the floor. The elf coughed violently, clutching his throat, wheezing as he gasped for air, the taste of blood sharp in his mouth.
The room felt even colder, the shadows stretching as if the walls themselves had absorbed the clown's malice.
"What's the name of this fool?"
The clown asked, his grin never faltering, though his tone was sharp and commanding.
Rall swallowed hard, still gasping from the chokehold.
"We… we don't know. But… the Demon Lord Ramiris… was with that individual… too."
"Ramiris, huh?
The clown tilted his head, considering the revelation.
"Tell whoever's inside to send the coordinates of that island. They should learn more about that imposter… quickly."
The words hung in the hall like a curse. Even the shadows seemed to shift and tremble, reflecting the cold, calculating intent of the figures observing from the throne.
"I will.."
"Your inside man, is the only reason you're still breathing."
The clown said coldly, his grip tightening once more in warning,
Silence followed, thick and suffocating, pressing down on the hall like a physical weight. Rall didn't dare speak.
"Leave."
The single word was absolute. Rall didn't hesitate, he staggered to his feet and fled, his presence vanishing into the shadows of the corridor.
Once he was gone, the clown straightened and slowly turned, the madness in his posture giving way to rigid obedience.
He stepped forward and sank to one knee before the dark figure seated upon the throne. The vast hall seemed to darken further, the air heavy with foreboding as all attention returned to the one who truly ruled.
"You're doing well, Azel."
"I'm not worthy of such praise, my Lord." Azel replied, bowing low.
The figure atop the throne remained silent, his presence alone conveying approval. No words were necessary; the air itself seemed to acknowledge the weight of his command.
"That fool will pay dearly for stealing your last piece."
"They will."
He replied, his fingers tapping slowly against the armrest.
"Just a little more, and I'll awaken as a True Demon Lord."
"Long live Demon Lord Mimon!"
Azel and the five clowns bowed deeply, their voices rising in unison.
Light spilled across the throne, revealing Mimon in a stark black-and-white ensemble. A plain white mask concealed his face, two sharp horns jutting from it, while long black hair fell over his shoulders, gleaming in the glow.
Far away, Asteri continued with his daily life, unaware of the shadow drawing ever closer.
NT2 End :)
To be continued...