The Demon King's castle rose before them like a colossal shadow blotting out the burning sky. Walls of pitch-black obsidian towered impossibly high, carved as if from darkness itself. Rivers of molten magma encircled the fortress, flowing endlessly like glowing veins of fire. The intense heat distorted the air, making the entire structure seem to writhe and breathe.
There was only one way in.
A massive stone bridge stretched across the lava moat, wide enough for an army to march ten abreast—yet it stood completely unguarded.
Sara frowned, shielding her eyes against the glare. "It's too quiet. Not a single demon on the walls, the bridge, or the gates. No patrols. Nothing."
Marcos nodded slowly, his storm-gray eyes sweeping the battlements. "Yes. Strange… and deliberate."
Liza tightened her grip on her sword, knuckles whitening. "Should we… go inside?"
Eris hugged her arms to herself, face pale beneath her hood. "This place feels wrong. Like it's waiting to swallow us whole."
Marcos glanced back at the three sisters. "So you wish to turn back now? After coming this far?"
Liza's emerald eyes ignited with fierce resolve. "No. If death is written in our destiny, then we'll face it while taking revenge—for our father, our village, and every elf who fell to their cruelty."
She stepped onto the bridge first, boots ringing against ancient stone. The others followed close behind.
Inside the Castle
The colossal gates yawned wide open, as though in mocking invitation.
They crossed the threshold into a vast entry hall—and were greeted by absolute silence.
No snarling guards. No clanking armor. Only the distant rumble of underground lava and the echo of their own cautious footsteps.
The walls were cold, lifeless obsidian. Countless corridors branched into impenetrable shadow.
Only one passage was illuminated: a long hallway lined with braziers burning unnatural green flame, the fire flickering like guiding fingers deeper into the castle.
Eris swallowed hard. "It's… leading us."
Marcos stared down the lit corridor. "Then that's the way we go."
Liza raised a hand. "Wait. What if it's a trap?"
Marcos turned slightly. "It almost certainly is. But if we avoid it, what then? Wander empty halls forever?"
After a tense pause, Liza exhaled sharply. "We check the other passages first. Thoroughly."
They did—moving carefully, weapons ready, exploring every shadowed corridor and chamber branching from the entrance.
All empty. Dust lay thick and undisturbed. No signs of life.
Sara's voice echoed back, laced with frustration. "The entire castle is deserted. It's like they abandoned the place."
Marcos's scarred face remained unreadable. "That leaves only one choice."
Liza stared toward the flame-lit passage once more. "No choice at all."
Together, they stepped into the green-lit corridor.
The Throne Hall
The passage widened dramatically, opening into a throne room larger than any mortal palace. Towering pillars of black stone rose into shadow like the ribs of some ancient beast. At the far end, upon a dais of skulls and polished obsidian, stood a massive throne.
The Demon King sat upon it—a colossal silhouette cloaked in living darkness. Only his burning crimson eyes pierced the gloom clearly.
Flanking the throne on either side stood five immense demons—the remaining Sinister Six, their murderous auras thick enough to taste.
And behind them, filling the vast hall from wall to wall, rank upon rank of the demon army—thousands strong—waited in perfect, terrible silence. Weapons gleamed. Eyes glowed like burning coals.
A deep, resonant voice rolled through the chamber like approaching thunder.
"Welcome, little mortals… and whatever you are."
The Demon King leaned forward slightly, shadows coiling around him. "May I ask why you have come to my home?"
Marcos stepped forward without hesitation, black daggers already in hand.
"To kill you."
A ripple of snarls and cruel laughter swept through the demon ranks.
The Demon King's voice carried soft amusement. "Such bold words. Do you truly believe you can slay me alone, boy?"
"He is not alone," Liza declared, stepping beside Marcos, sword raised high.
The Demon King's gaze shifted to her—and the air itself seemed to solidify, crushing downward with unimaginable weight.
"Silence, insect."
His aura exploded outward.
The pressure struck the three sisters like a mountain falling from the sky. Liza, Sara, and Eris were driven instantly to their knees, gasping as invisible force pinned them mercilessly to the cold stone floor. Blood trickled from their noses and ears.
"What… is this…?" Liza choked out, fighting to lift her head.
Sara screamed through gritted teeth. Eris whimpered, tears streaming down her face as the pressure tore at her body.
The demon army erupted into a deafening roar, slamming weapons against shields in rhythmic, earth-shaking mockery.
The Sinisters laugh in a loud and creepy way.
Marcos sighed, almost disappointed.
"That's why I told you," he muttered, "revenge is never as simple as it sounds."
**To be continued…**