Vampire Realm — Capital, Throne Hall
The throne room was quieter than usual.
Dim sunlight filtered in through stained-glass windows high above, casting long colors over the obsidian floor. Crimson banners hung like still breaths on either side of the grand chamber. The soft hum of mana-powered walls flickered in the background, barely heard over the subtle grinding of armored boots.
Lucifer sat on his throne—The Throne of Nightfall—elbows on the armrests, one leg crossed over the other, head tilted slightly. He wasn't wearing his formal attire today. No heavy cape. Just a black coat open at the chest, loose pants, and gloves stained faintly with dried blood.
He hadn't moved much since returning from the Tower. Not out of exhaustion.
Out of thought.
The Progenitor's Blade leaned against the right side of the throne, its edge humming softly, absorbing every shadow nearby.
