Elena stepped out of the shadows, her eyes glowing with a cold, predatory hunger. Before the Demon Lord Augustus could even speak, her hand blurred, piercing through his chest and into his heart.
"You've played your part, puppet," she whispered.
Augustus shriveled like a dying leaf as Elena drained his life force. The power surge was so violent it shattered the windows of the throne room. Her body began to warp, transforming into something divine yet demonic. Four skeletal wings sprouted from her back, and black horns curved from her brow. From the shadows, she summoned a weapon—a jagged, pulsing Scythe of Souls, forged from the remains of the Five Shining Stars Silus had just killed.
Silus stood amidst the ruins, his voice trembling with a mix of rage and heartbreak. "Why, Elena? I gave you everything. I loved you more than my own life. I would have burned the world for you."
Elena let out a soft, mocking laugh. "Love? Silus, you were never more than a tool. I was the one who whispered to the demons about your 'miracle' birth. I was the one who convinced the Gods that you were a threat. I even disguised myself as Queen Luminara to guide Kael to the abyss—because I knew the Void would make you the perfect weapon for me to harvest."
She spread her wings, hovering above the ground. "Every scar on your soul was placed there by me. And now, I offer you one last mercy. Join me as my King, or die as my final sacrifice."
Silus looked down at his sword, a dark smirk slowly spreading across his face. It was a cold, hollow sound. "You think I still love the girl who threw me into the dark? That girl died eight years ago."
He gripped Death, the blade humming with a black-gold flame. "I didn't come here to be a King, Elena. I came to be an undertaker."
Elena's face went stone-cold. "Then rot with the rest of them."
She raised her Scythe, and the very ground of the Demon Realm split open. From the cracks rose an army that defied nature—undead dragons, ancient demons, and fallen angels, all bound to her will. Thousands of monsters let out a deafening roar, a sea of teeth and claws rushing toward a single man.
Silus didn't flinch. He took a single step forward, the floor turning to dust beneath his feet. "Death," he whispered to his blade. "Eat your fill."