Chapter 118: The Demon’s Response
The crimson sky above the Rift churned with storm clouds like blood circling a drain. Lightning spidered through the heavens, flashing purple and green. At the heart of this blighted realm, Rift Castle loomed as it always had—silent, imposing, eternal.
But within its throne hall, silence had become tension.
The Lady of Illusion was gone.
And her death—at the hands of a mortal—echoed like a gong of war through the obsidian spires.
The Demon King sat unmoving on his throne, the lightless black stone cradling his armored form like a coffin lid. He did not speak. He didn’t need to. His generals had already gathered, summoned by the moment the Lady’s essence had vanished.
Lord Destruction was the first to kneel. Massive and imposing, he wore armor seared with the runes of extinct war gods, and his warhammer clanked heavily on the floor as he bowed his head.
"She is dead," Destruction said flatly, as if to confirm what all already knew.
Lady Death followed, silent and shadowed. Her skeletal mask showed no emotion, but the way she moved—slower, heavier—said everything. The Fourth was gone. One of their own. A piece of the Rift broken.
Then came Lord Fate, his deck of cards floating and swirling about his fingers in a restless dance. He said nothing, not yet. He didn’t have to. His deck would speak for him soon enough.
"Speak," the Demon King finally ordered, his voice low, vibrating through the stone walls like thunder buried deep underground.
Fate stepped forward. "We’ve confirmed it. Her final breath burned away in the human realm. She died in Elandra."