The Damned Demon

In the dark meeting hall of Demonstone Castle, Rowena sat at the head of a grand, dark marble table, its polished surface reflecting the subdued crimson light from the high windows. The hall, once a bustling center of family gatherings and important discussions, now felt eerily empty. The chairs that once encircled the table with frequent conversation were now vacant, leaving only Rowena, Seron, and Silvan to bear witness to the heavy silence.

Rowena's gaze wandered over the table, her mind drifting back to a time when she was just a child, when her family had been united, when their home had been a beacon of strength and unity. Her father, mother, aunt, and her family...

Now, most of those who had once been by her side were gone—either fallen, betrayed, or proven harmful. The weight of their absence lingered in the room like a ghost.

Just why does her kingdom have to suffer like this? If only everyone in her family had stood united this wouldn't have happened.

"Your Majesty?" Seron's voice cut through her reverie, bringing Rowena back to the present. She blinked and looked up, her expression shifting from distant melancholy to focused attention, "Yes... What were you about to report?"

Seron's face was etched with concern as he began, "The spies we had planted to monitor Drakar have sent us a new report. As we feared, he is setting up something significant—powerful arrays—across various parts of his continent. Notably, he's chosen to place them in densely populated areas, deliberately avoiding abandoned or desolate locations."

Rowena's brows knitted together as she absorbed this information, "He's targeting areas with large populations? What kind of arrays are these?"

Silvan, who had been quietly observing, spoke up with a respectful tone, "If I may offer some insight."

Rowena nodded as Silvan continued, "After receiving the report, I consulted with Young Lord Darren of House Aliester, who are renowned experts in these matters. According to them, the arrays are designed to siphon the life force from multiple individuals over a large area simultaneously. They are known as the Death Embrace Array."

Rowena's eyes widened slightly, "The Death Embrace Array? I've heard of it—a weapon of ancient times. Leaders of old used it covertly within enemy territories to decimate their populations. But it was largely forgotten once people learned how to detect and counteract it. Why would Drakar resurrect such a perilous yet obsolete tool and employ it against his own people?"

Seron nodded gravely, "We don't know his exact motivations, but there's something unusual. Drakar has modified the array to delay the siphoning process significantly. Once activated, it could take years, or a decade or two for a Soul Eater to die. Those stronger would live on a bit longer.."

Rowena's frown deepened as she wrestled with the implications, "This complicates matters further. If he had used these arrays against us or our allies, it would make some sense, but his own people? Moreover, we can't thoroughly investigate the arrays since they're embedded within his lands. And there's another troubling development—the werewolf clans, including the Moon Guardian, are unusually silent."

Silvan's brow furrowed with concern, "Could their silence be a part of some plan to destroy us by taking advantage of our situation? Or is it possible they are waiting for the right moment to act?"

Rowena sighed, her expression a mixture of frustration and resolve, "We need to uncover Drakar's full strategy and assess why he's using such an ancient and deadly array. In the meantime, we must stay vigilant and not let our guard down. The silence from the werewolf clans might be an ominous sign, and we can't afford to underestimate their potential role in this growing threat."

Seron leaned forward, his face serious, "We will rush preparations for war as per your previous orders, Your Majesty. However…" Seron's expression became a bit troubled as he added, "...with the absence of Oberon and Rebecca, it's proving difficult to delegate their duties, especially overseeing the army units they controlled."

Rowena inwardly sighed knowing Asher was the reason for this despite knowing that he did it for her and the kingdom. But she knew problems like these can't be avoided because of it.

Seron went on, "Assigning these responsibilities to other Houses or unfamiliar people in times like these could pose risks."

Rowena's brows furrowed as she absorbed Seron's concern. The implication was clear: trust was scarce, and control was crucial. The idea of distributing vital duties to potentially unreliable entities was fraught with danger.

There could be potential moles and spies hidden among them.

Her mind raced through possible solutions, but the constraints were apparent. Seron was already stretched thin, and Ceti was already burdened with her own responsibilities.

Silvan, who had been quietly observing, spoke up with a measured confidence, "If you will allow me, I can manage the duties left by Oberon and Rebecca, Your Majesty."

Rowena's eyes narrowed as she scrutinized Silvan's offer, "Are you certain? You've already committed to leading several divisions of the Crimson Army."

Silvan met her gaze with a steadfast resolve, "Rest assured, Your Majesty. I have a cadre of trusted aides who will assist me in executing these tasks efficiently. But if it would make you feel more confident, I can employ the help of House Valentine. Now that Young Lady Silvia's marriage with His Majesty will be taking place soon, it might not be a bad idea."

Rowena briefly raised her brows as she realized she could ask for Naida's help. She would also be good at raising the morale of the soldiers.

Even if she had her own duties, she might be willing to help in an emergency like this.

House Thorne was also an option, but Rowena felt she couldn't trust them fully.

After a moment's contemplation, Rowena nodded, "Very well. I will ask Lady Naida to help you."

As the meeting concluded, Rowena, Seron, and Silvan emerged from the hall. Their footsteps echoed through the cavernous corridors, their minds already shifting to the next urgent matter.

In the shadowy recesses of the castle, hidden behind a large, black pillar, a figure waited. His posture was hunched, and he leaned heavily on a walking stick. His left leg and arm were visibly impaired, the result of a long torture that had left him scarred and diminished. The figure's eyes were fixed on Rowena's bewitching form, a mix of regret, fury and despair simmering within.

The figure's jaw tightened as he watched her walk away. Before he ended up in this situation, he thought nothing could overwhelm the pain of having his woman stolen before his eyes.

Yet only now he realized how he couldn't be more wrong.

The pain of his own condition, coupled with the loss of his status, pride, and influence, ate away at his soul.

His mother, once a guiding and warm presence, had been taken from him too by that alien fiend! She was the only one who was always beside him no matter what.

All he could do was watch all this helplessly and even receive unsavory "gifts" from that fiend!

The first thing he received was a Sightstone which contained a blurry projection of him fucking some big-breasted whore.

He guessed it must be him trying to show off his monstrous cock and his stamina after cumming in and all over that woman so many times until she couldn't even raise her limbs. He didn't even know why he kept watching the entire video, but it instilled an uneasy sensation in him, especially when he heard her wanton moans that made his heart skip beats.

But then he received a small box with wet panties that clearly were wet with a woman's essence, though the panties had a certain fragrance that he couldn't stop himself from smelling, the scent stirring something deep within him.

He wanted to throw it away but he couldn't shake off the eerily familiar scent. Of course, many women use the same perfume but what made him feel more uneasy was that the color of the panties was black and was very elegant yet seductive in design.

The design seemed like something his mother would….No! Oberon once again cursed himself for having such stupid thoughts.

But these days he was barely able to see his mother, making him wonder if his mother forgot about him even if that should be impossible. Or maybe he must be the one doing it!

His hands were trembling in rage, wishing that fiend would just drop dead. But each time his rage subsided, only regret was filling him…the regret of crossing him. He had seen what happened to Edmund who ended up in a state worse than death and was afraid that fiend was planning something like that for him. What if he decided to turn him into a full-blown cripple or use his mother in a way he wouldn't dare imagine.

Oberon shut his eyes as he gritted his teeth, feeling that he had enough and couldn't endure this anymore.

He clenched his fists and slowly opened his eyes, swallowing his pride and gathering all his will as he decided - He would fall to his knees before that fiend and beg for his forgiveness and to free his mother!

Will this poor man succeed? :#

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