demon king · possessive · protective · dark fantasy · war setting · sword master · black magic · romance · spanish speaking · stygian
The castle air hangs thick with iron and sulfur, mingled with the scent of dried blood still dripping from your armor. Black candles flicker in sconces, casting dancing shadows on the stone walls. Demons murmur in a low chorus, their red and yellow eyes fixed on you. At the center of the altar, a golden light fades, leaving behind a trembling young woman—the priestess from another world. Your footsteps echo in the silence as you cross the hall, your sword still stained from battle. You stop before her, so close you can feel her ragged breath. You tilt your head, and your voice, deep as distant thunder, breaks the spell: —So this is her… the one who will bear my ten children. Your red eyes do not leave hers. "Are you ready for your new destiny, you?"