Twenty Years Later — Gorgoroth, The Demon Realm
Beneath a crimson sky darker than blood, the great black citadel of Gorgoroth loomed like a wound carved into the planet's flesh.
Inside its grand throne hall—lit by bone lanterns and cold blue fire—a figure sat alone upon a throne of skulls and shattered weapons.
His name was Amon.
Eyes glowing faint silver. Skin pale as moonlight. Dressed in a long coat of black shadow stitched with red veins. His presence froze the air like winter's breath.
Before him stood demons.
Twisted. Towering. Horned. Fanged. Wings torn from centuries of war. Dozens of them. All radiating bloodlust.
And yet—none dared move.
One demon stepped forward, blade-like jaw clenched tight. "Where is our king, human? What did you do to him?"
Another howled, wings flaring wide. "You imprisoned him, didn't you? You worm! You tricked him!"
"He should've devoured you the day you arrived," snarled a third. "But no—he called you son!"
Amon said nothing.
Another demon struck a pillar, splitting it. "He gave you his name! You spit on it!"
"Give him back," one growled, stepping forward, "or we wear your skin like armor."
Silence.
Amon finally moved.
He stood.
Cold. Effortless. Power rippling behind every motion.
His voice cracked the air like frost on steel.
"You speak of trust. Of mercy. Of bonds."
He descended the skull-carved steps.
"You call me human. Say I tricked him. But tell me this—"
His silver eyes blazed.
"Who burned me to see if I'd scream? Who chained me to hounds and bet on how long I'd last? Who laughed when I forgot my name?"
Silence drowned the hall.
Amon's voice softened. "Not him. He called me son. You called me meat."
Then—he raised his hand.
A black flame bloomed in his palm—cold, pulsing, alive.
"You want your king?"
The demons stepped back.
Amon whispered:
"I devoured him."
Shock rippled like a tidal wave.
Gasps. Roars. Screams.
"No—impossible!"
"He was Crownbearer!"
"You lie!"
Amon stepped forward.
"I didn't just kill him," he said, voice low. "I took him. His soul. His power. His memory."
He turned toward the shattered window. Beyond it—ashes blew across a scorched world.
He lifted a hand.
"He ruled with peace. Promised restraint. And what did that bring you? Famine. Fear. Silence."
He turned back.
"He once told me, 'If I fight, people die. So I won't.'"
Amon's eyes burned crimson.
"So I fought. And I lived. And now—I rule."
A demon shouted, "You are not one of us! What right do you have to be king?"
Amon's body shifted.
Horns erupted from his scalp. Skin cracked. Power rippled like dark waves.
His voice dropped, inhuman.
"When I devoured your king, I became what he never dared to be."
Power thundered through the hall.
One by one, demons dropped to their knees. Heads bowed.
"Amon, the Soul Devourer. The true heir of the Abyss."
Amon sat on the throne once more.
And laughed.
"Heir? You think this is the only kingdom in this realm? There's another. And when I take it—"
He raised his clawed hand.
"—I will claim the Key to the Human Realm."
He stood.
"Prepare for war."
The hall erupted in cheers. Screams. Roars of bloodlust.
And Amon—eyes glowing, shadows writhing—simply whispered:
"Let the world burn."
After the Storm — The Iron Legion's Arrival
A lone figure entered the throne hall.
A scarred man in crimson armor bowed low.
"Demon King Amon," he said. "General Amir of the Iron Legion. Brother to the former king."
Amon didn't rise. He only smirked.
"Ah. Come to avenge him?"
Amir's jaw tightened. "No. I came to understand."
Amon's expression dimmed.
"He told me: 'Never fight if lives are at stake—but always be ready to give your life as a king.'"
Amir's voice sharpened. "And you murdered him."
Amon stood.
"You think I could kill a Crownbearer? You insult his power. He chose to die. And I… accepted his crown."
Amir faltered.
Amon's voice cooled to ice.
"Grieve him. Hate me. But the throne is mine now."
Amir knelt. "My loyalty was to the throne. And you wear the crown."
Amon nodded. "Good. Prepare the Iron Legion. Our war is with Valdareth."
Amir stiffened. "That's madness. They've allied with three demon tribes."
Amon tilted his head. "Three? Not four?"
"The Ironborn refused to join them."
Amon smiled.
"Interesting. Find out why."
Amir bowed. "At once."
The System Awakens
The throne room pulsed.
A transparent screen blinked into view.
| DEVOUR SYSTEM |
Name: AmonForm: Demon (Current) | Human (Past)Realm: Crownbearer
Skills:
Devour Art (Past Life)
Blood Art (Awakened via Demon Soul)
Title Quest: Conqueror of RealmsObjective: Collect both Demon Gate Key FragmentsProgress: 1 / 2Reward: Awakening of the True Demonic Body
Amon sighed.
"Not this again."
He waved the screen—but it remained.
A new alert blinked.
| Intelligence Suggests Second Fragment is Hidden in the Valdareth Royal Crypt |
Amon smirked.
"Let them guard it. I'll take it from their corpses."