The throne, worn and covered in scratches, seated a figured dressed in black. His long, dark hair framed his handsome features, but his eyes reflected no light. His face, lined with well-trimmed facial hair, was like carved stone, unchanging, forever casting a bored look to those around him. His disdain prickled the skin of those he fixed his gaze upon. Even as he spoke, his fingers restlessly scratched at the throne beneath his arms. Stone crumbled where his fingers pressed, producing a terrible sound. Although he sat lazily, his actions still exuded an air of grace, demanding respect. 

“Tell me. What have you come for?” The man asked, his lips revealing teeth sharper than knives. His deep voice, questioning, yet severe, caused the chained man in front of him to tremble. He was an aged man, white streaking through his hair. His clothes, though ragged, could have been that of a nobleman’s, given a few washes. He was filthy now.  Googlᴇ search noᴠelfire.net

His trembling eyes gazed upwards. His throat warbled as he spoke. “I came to ask you for mercy, my lord!” Tears threatened to spill over, staining his face. He tried to speak, but found his mouth sealed from an unseen pressure. His desperate cries could be heard through his cheeks, but the figure paid him no mind.

“No.” The man refuted. His gaze fell across the man as if looking at trash. “You came to die at my feet.” He raised his hand, casually glancing at his fingernails. He cleaned one of them, before flicking the detritus in the man’s direction. 

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In one quick motion, a portion of the man’s head was gone. His remains tumbled to the ground. The Demon Lord stood from his throne, stepping on the corpse as he exited the hall. With a wave of his hand, several servants appeared from the darkness and dragged the body away. 

“Is that all for today?” He asked, his voice monotone. A woman, wearing sharp, clean clothing appeared near his side, matching his brisk steps. 

“Yes, My Lord. The other matters of the court will be attended to by the Generals.” 

The Demon Lord smiled. The sight made her shiver, but she expertly controlled her body. It would be suicide to expose her true feelings for the monster in front of her. 

“Good. See that I am not disturbed for the rest of the evening.” 

He paused mid-step, his eyes rolling towards her. “Oh, You have done well today, Isabelle.” 

She stood stiffly, saying “Thank you, sir.” He gave a raise of his hand as he walked away.. 

She departed without another word. She appeared from a shadow in her private quarters, sweat dripping down her head. Her visits with his Highness were short for a reason. So powerful was his strength, that even his mere presence caused a heavy burden on his subjects, thus he appeared in short sessions of court for matters that did not require his strength. For matters trivial to his Highness, the Four Demon Generals were all that was needed. 

The bed rustled as she sat down. She pulled off her shoes while looking over a stack of papers she’d been carrying. She still didn’t understand how she, as a low rank demon, could manage a job in the Demon Lord’s palace. At first she’d been ecstatic - her position could be seen as a massive leap in her quality of life. Rather than living in squalor like the village outskirts she’d grown up in, she was practically royalty! Yet, she had no clue of what a nightmare working in the palace could be. 

Isabelle had been interacting with the Demon Lord increasingly often as her competence had grown. She recalled his taciturn behavior, callous attitude, and godly strength, the previous scene of the man dying. She had become increasingly numb to these sights of gore. The Demon clan was ruled by strength, and for humans, who constantly challenged that dominance, discrimination was not uncommon. Isabelle had little care for such things, as she had seldom come in contact with humans in her hometown. 

Isabelle hated her job. Had she known that her position would include the unfortunate duty of managing the Four Demon Generals, she would have buried her head in the dirt when offered. Isabelle was left dizzy when she was informed of her work duties. Each week, she was forced into a meeting with the four; her job to collect and create a report of all happenstances. Each week she collected reports, and each week she wanted to die. She would have walked were it not for a strange rumor circulating about the person who previously occupied the position. 

Isabelle took her glasses off and rubbed the bridge of her nose before glancing at the pages again. One of the Demon Generals had moved into human territories southwest. She reviewed the contents of the report and frowned. Had Atrax informed the Demon Lord of his plans? She doubted it. Atrax particularly disliked the bureaucratic nature of their arrangement. Isabelle held a strong disgust towards Atrax — a combination of  his sadistic personality and the nature of his demonic bloodline. He had…particular features that made her skin crawl. 

She stood up, pulled her shoes back on and prepared herself for another meeting. She briefly considered fleeing from the window, but figured they’d charge her the repair fee when she was captured. Ignoring her impulses, she opened her door and strode towards the meeting room.