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"L-Lord... Just as Senior Jenny advised... we probed into the matter and found that the queen is fiercely guarding her daughter, blatantly ignoring our commands..."

Asmodeous\'s patience frayed at the edges, his voice sharp as a whip\'s crack. "You can\'t overpower a mere human? What monumental incompetence!" His scorn sliced through the air, a verbal lash that left Elia recoiling.

Elia recoiled, her voice a fearful whisper, "Lord... It\'s not solely that. We... We encountered a powerful D-Deviant protecting her. Our envoys... all met their demise at his hands alone..." She braced for the worst, her words hanging between them like a death sentence.

History had shown, those bearing ill news to Asmodeous seldom lived to tell another tale.

Yet, death did not come. Instead, Asmodeous\'s eyes ignited with an intense, predatory gleam. "A Powerful Deviant? Not aligned with our faction, you say?" he probed, his interest piqued.

Elia, trembling, managed to shake her head. "It\'s... It\'s the man recently crowned as the Prince of Atlantia... Lord Eclipse sanctioned his ascension..."

"..."

Silence enveloped the room, thick with unspoken thoughts, before Asmodeous\'s lips curved into an enigmatic, wry smile. "A prince, is he? Venturing far from his domain, seeking his demise here with us?" he mused, his voice a low murmur laced with dark amusement.

The animosity between Asmodeous and Eclipse was as ancient as it was deep-seated, and now, it seemed, fate conspired to draw them into confrontation once more.

The prospect of absorbing Eclipse was tempting, fraught with the promise of untold power.

Yet, Asmodeous was acutely aware of the uncertainties such a direct clash entailed.

The outcome of a battle between two such titans was a mystery wrapped in the shadows of their vast, untested strengths.

Now, presented with an opportunity to confront her chosen champion, Asmodeous sensed an opening!

"You may leave," Asmodeous dismissed Elia with a casual wave of his hand, his gesture unexpectedly lenient.

"Huh?" Confusion washed over Elia, her mind a tumult of disbelief. Could she truly walk away unscathed?

Was she spared the fate that befell so many before her?

"Do you not wish to leave?" Asmodeous\'s voice cut through her thoughts, his eyes narrowing in mock curiosity, a sinister amusement twinkling within.

"N-No, Lord! I am forever at your service!" Elia stammered out the words, her heart thundering against her chest as she pivoted, her steps hurried and eager to escape his presence.

As she retreated, a whirlwind of thoughts besieged her. \'Has the lord\'s temper softened today? What stroke of fortune has spared me?\' Relief blossomed in her heart, a fleeting moment of hope—until a chilling scream shattered the silence.

"Ahh!?"

"Fool, I meant leave this world," Asmodeous\'s voice was tinged with disdain, a cruel smirk playing on his lips.

Swish!

With a flick of his tongue, his skin transformed into lethal tendrils, slicing through the air with precision.

Puchi!

They pierced Elia\'s flesh, tearing her apart with ruthless efficiency.

The pieces of her being were dragged across the floor, her blood painting a haunting tableau, shimmering ominously in the dim light.

In a final act of dominance, Asmodeous absorbed her essence, her screams fading into a haunting silence.

He afforded himself one last, cruel smile, a silent observer to the tragedy he had authored.

Then, with the indifference of a storm leaving devastation behind it, he turned to gaze out at the horizon.

He watched impassively as the sun dipped below the edge of the world, the coming of night cloaking him in darkness.

Only then did he retreat to his chambers, the echoes of his deeds a somber lullaby to accompany his slumber.

_________

Within the storied walls of Norhaven Royal Castle!

"Ugh! Get off me, you behemoth!" Seraphine\'s protest was muffled beneath the weight of Ericka, who had unceremoniously planted herself atop her, eyes glinting with victorious malice. "Don\'t you dare beg for mercy!"

"Ugh!" Seraphine hissed, her discomfort morphing into irritation. A rueful thought crossed her mind—perhaps she should have indulged in just one more slice of cake at dinner, if only to have the strength to toss Ericka off with ease.

"This is the price for playing with me!" Ericka declared, a wicked grin splitting her face.

"Who\'s playing with whom? Have you taken a good look at yourself in the mirror w—" Seraphine shot back, her words sharp as knives.

"Shh! Silence!" Ericka\'s face flushed a deep shade of crimson, her hand clamping down over Seraphine\'s mouth in a hasty attempt to stem the tide of her taunts.

"Humph! Playing the innocent now, are we?" Seraphine\'s smug satisfaction only deepened Ericka\'s embarrassment.

"Keep it down, will you?" Ericka hissed, a desperate plea for discretion.

"Keep it down? Oh, like how you kept quiet last night? Huh?" Seraphine\'s eyebrow arched in a challenge, her words laced with mischief.

Ericka was speechless, her frustration boiling over, itching to imprint her fist in Seraphine\'s smirking face.

Click!

"Wh—?" At the most inconvenient moment, the door swung open, revealing Freya, who stood frozen on the threshold, her eyes widening in sheer disbelief.

!!

The scene before her—two grown women, embroiled in a baffling skirmish, devoid of attire—struck her with a wave of shock so potent it could have knocked the air from her lungs.

\'Why are they fighting without any clothes on!?\'

The question screamed in her mind, a silent echo that painted her face a vivid shade of crimson.

"I-I should come back later," she stammered out, her voice barely a whisper against the tumult of her embarrassment.

With hurried, panicked steps, she retreated, closing the door behind her as if to physically shut away the bewildering image seared into her memory.

As the door clicked shut, an oppressive silence enveloped the room.

"..."

"..."

Seraphine and Ericka, still entwined in their awkward tableau, exchanged looks that transcended words.

A profound realization dawned upon them in that silent communion—they were acutely, embarrassingly aware of their undignified state.