Screams filled the Abyssal Court before the throne could even be seen.
Chains scraped loudly across the black stone floor as a female demon was dragged forward. Blood trailed behind her, hissing as her skin touched the burning ground. Tall black pillars rose around the room, covered in glowing symbols. Fire burned above, casting long shadows across the court.
This was the judgment chamber of the King of Wrath.
At the center sat Samar.
He watched without speaking.
His throne was made of rare black stones and pure gold. Sharp edges and carved symbols covered it, glowing faintly with heat. It looked beautiful, but dangerous—like a king's seat meant to warn, not comfort.
When the demon was thrown at his feet, she begged for mercy. Her once-strong wings were broken, and her voice shook with fear. Samar did not answer.
He slowly stood.
The ground cracked under his steps. His voice was calm, but strong.
"You knew the law," he said. "You chose to break it."
"Brother, don't do this," Mathias said. "Please, have mercy on my wife. If you kill her, I will be without a mate for eternity."
Samar said nothing. His eyes did not soften, and his face remained cold, as if the words meant nothing to him.
The demon's screams grew louder, filling the court.
Lucas looked away. His voice was flat and uncaring. "Mathias, you know who our brother is. He is wrath itself. He will not stop until she is gone. Begging will not change that."
Samar lifted his hand.
Wrath answered.
Dark flames burst from the ground and wrapped around the traitor. Her screams were quickly swallowed by the fire. Within moments, nothing remained but ash drifting through the air. Samar lowered his hand. His face did not change.
The judgment was complete. Balance was restored.
He returned to his throne—the Punisher, the one who judged all who dared break the laws of the underworld.
Mathias fell to his knees.
He stared at the ash where his wife had been, unable to speak. His hands shook as he reached out, but there was nothing left to touch. No warmth. No voice. Nothing.
A low sound escaped his chest, somewhere between a sob and a cry, but he did not scream. He did not beg again.
His head bowed.
For the first time, the King of Greed had lost something he could never replace.
Silence filled the court.
The other brothers stood still, watching Mathias kneel beside the ash. No one spoke. No one moved. The fire above crackled softly, as if even it was unsure.
Lucas crossed his arms. His face was calm, but his eyes were cold. He did not look at Mathias for long.
"This is what happens when laws are broken," Samar said. "Wrath does not bend."
Deep in the underworld, demons were divided into ancient clans, each ruled by a sovereign born of sin and power. These kings were not merely leaders—they were living embodiments of damnation itself.
Lucifer, the King of Pride, known among mortals as Lucas.
Mammon, the King of Greed, called Mathias, whose hunger was endless.
Asmodeus, the King of Lust, known as Alexander, master of desire and temptation.
Leviathan, the King of Envy, named Lachlan, whose jealousy could rot even eternity.
Beelzebub, the King of Gluttony, known as Balak, whose appetite knew no limit.
Belphegor, the King of Sloth, called Barnabas, who ruled through indifference and decay.
And above them all stood Satan—
the King of Wrath, the supreme ruler of the underworld, known as Samar
Samar was the most feared of the seven brothers, a force of destruction incarnate. His authority was absolute, his judgment final. He bore the title 'Punisher',
Every human or demon who stood before him had already been found guilty. Their sins demanded retribution—and Samar was wrath given form.
In his hands, punishment was not cruelty,
It was justice.