The air in the Demon King's throne room didn't just feel cold; it felt heavy, like the weight of a mountain. At the far end of the hall, sitting on a throne of jagged obsidian, was Clevatess. He sat in his demon form a short gold horn on his head with 7 long tails—silent, cold, and utterly bored.
Before him stood the 13 Legendary Heroes. They had invaded his realm with "Holy" weapons and golden armor, shouting about justice. Among them was the Hero, a woman with a sharp gaze and a blade that glowed with the light of the sun. She was the pride of the Seven Kingdoms, convinced she could kill a god.
"Is this the best you have?" Clevatess's voice rumbled like a mountain collapsing.
He didn't use a sword. With a single, casual wave of his hand, a wave of pure demonic energy tore through the room.
The "Holy" armor shattered like glass. The "Legendary" swords snapped like dry twigs. In a heartbeat, twelve of the greatest heroes were erased—not just killed, but obliterated into dust.
The woman who managed to get through his first attack was slammed against a stone pillar. Her ribs cracked, her armor splintered, and her legendary sword was reduced to a hilt. She fell to the floor, coughing up blood, watching as the silver ash of her comrades settled around her. She was no longer a Savior; she was just a survivor.
Clevatess stood up, his shadow stretching across the floor, manifesting seven snarling, demonic tails
"Humanity is a failure," Clevatess declared, stepping over her. "You invade, you destroy, and you call it 'goodness.' I have seen enough. Tonight, I erase the world of man."
He walked out of the palace, leaving the broken Hero bleeding on the floor. He headed straight for the capital city of Aethelgard. It was time to finish the job.