Deep within the halls of a sacred church of The Divine Theocracy built in The Alcott Kingdom, tall arched walls made of marble and silver softly glow revealing a long hall with a large throne at the end. Entirely underground and with a long grey wooden table taking up the center of the room, the whole room radiates purity. A hall like this would be fit for any king, and yet if the king of the nation were to know of its existence he would no doubt take issue with its existence.

  Along the table, many figures sit as they have whispered discussions, no one daring to sit in the throne even considering their power and positions. Everyone gathered here is here to serve, nothing more. They know their place.

  “So, she finally reached out?” Leaning back in her seat at the edge of the long table, a woman with blazing hair and a thick heat haze surrounding her grins manically. “I am glad that our lord is showing an interest. The lesser members of the order were getting rather suspicious that we had not made contact yet.”

  The Order of the Duskallen had been preparing for their lord’s arrival for many years. Most every member of the order was just as fanatical as their leader, and after seeing the destruction wrought by the Demon Lord just recently, their zealotry only increased several fold. “Hahaha, just seeing the nations of the world run around like headless cuccoos proves the superiority of our lord!” The Demon Lord had let the humans lower their guard, and then struck in a perfect sneak attack that cleaned up all her enemies. The attack then let the Demon Lord lead the humans around by the nose when it was revealed that people could be removed from The System. “Genius! She really is a genius!” Shouting at the top of her lungs the leader of the powerful cult can’t help but feel excitement at the power of her lord.

  Ignoring his boss’ crazed praise of their master, a man cloaked in shadow who served as her second stood calmly beside her and got their conversation back on track. “The lower members have no idea as to our lord’s true identity so it is only natural that they would be confused as to why we had not been approached.” Shadowed eyes glare harshly at the woman of flames, clearly attempting to not so subtly hint at the reason as to why they could not reach out to their lord.

  “True, though it all seems to have worked out in the end.” Not bothering to notice her right-hand man’s glare in her reverence, the leader of the Duskallen begins to tout that everything is going swimmingly. Having zero patience for any of that, an inky black hand slams down on a flaming head. “I must remind you that her parents, the ones who murdered her, were part of our organization.” His glare increasing in intensity as he turns his bosses head towards him, the cloaked man crouches down to stare right at her face. “And that you let her father, I repeat, the one who murdered her, run around and try to murder her again.”

  With an awkward smile, The Order’s leader did her best to avoid responsibility. “I was just testing her! She did have Light Magic, so we couldn’t be sure.” Hands flailing in the air, the woman’s words convinced no one.

  “You know as well as I do that it is the results that matter, and that she will care little for your idea of ‘testing.’”

  “A-Anyway, when will she be arriving?” Her voice going up an octave and her eyes never making contact, the great and feared cult leader tries to focus on what is important. Their lord will be arriving soon.

  Solid black eyes that seem to be the end of all light squint harder for a moment, before tiredly giving up. “Terrible deflection aside, the demon that contacted us said she would be arriving within the hour. Something you would know if you were paying attention properly.”

  The cult had been contacted by a demon in a rather sinister maid outfit through one of the churches in the Alcott Kingdom. This had sent a rather high level of excitement through the organization and caused a bad reaction in the more dedicated members. Like their fearless leader.

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  The tall sharp faced redhead is the worst of them all, waiting rather impatiently with fanatical stars in her eyes as she bounces lightly in her chair like a child. She had always worshiped The Demon Lord for as long as she can remember. A being who fought with such brutality and caused endless chaos in the world. The cult leader had actually built this organization herself several hundred years ago in her blind devotion to her lord.

  It all started when she was out on patrol with her unit, formerly one of the commanders in the army serving the Divine Theocracy, she had been tasked with tracking down a suspicious monster sighting in The Sea of Trees. A strange violent smokey figure appeared on their way, and all 100 of her men had been slaughtered. They couldn’t lift a finger and their magic only struck air. Such overwhelming strength turned all of her comrades into red paste. And she found it beautiful.

  Free from the constraints of this world and killing with such clear purpose in its glowing crimson eyes, everything about the display captivated her. Even with all her comrades dead, many of whom she considered friends, she dropped her blade and begged the demon. Not for her life, but to allow her to serve the mighty beast.

  The fire in her eyes never let up even as the monster loomed over her, and then the demon cackled. It said if she prepared an army to serve its master, The Demon Lord, when it returned, then it would consider it.

  Suddenly, several presences that had begun approaching the temple’s inner chamber snapped the woman out of her reverie. “She’s here.” In a whispered tone the woman quickly stood and rushed to the door to meet her guests.

  The large ornate doors made of a pale white wood and inlaid with silver slowly opened and three hooded figures made their way inside. And the moment the doors closed behind them the normal brown cloaks vanished as if they had never been there in the first place.

  Underneath one cloak is a smoky swirling black ash and a demonic animal skull resting atop a tattered crimson and ebony maid outfit. Beside the maid another inky figure stands with the skull of a cyclops and a single horn jutting out from its head, wearing a thick black armor the demon’s gaze never leaves the one standing before it.

  Finally, standing at the head is a tall ivory figure with a face made up of seven vertical plates of bone, each arranged across the top of its head to form a beautiful and yet primitive crown. Skin, like bark and six arms split at the shoulders, the creature stands tall, its face, lacking any of the necessary human features, tapering off to a large black opening fixed in place like a mask. Thick black armor is affixed to its body in a strange mechanical nature that does not fit with this world’s standards, and black smoke rolls off the magnificent figure as it towers over everyone in the room.

  In a moment, everyone in the hall quickly kneels in the presence of their lord.

  “We welcome you oh Great Demon Lord! Please make use of us as you see it!”

  Kneeling before the ominous figure, the leader of The Duskallen, her shadowy second, several diviners, and a few other priests reverently bask in the demonic presence. As this continues the Demon Lord looks over her subjects with an appraising indifference.

  “I see, I do have a task for you.” its voice rings out, thick with mana and metallic in nature. The voice never stays the same for any one word as it shifts from male to female, old to young as the great being speaks. However, before the task can be given, the second in command decides it best to be fully honest with their lord from the start. “Oh Great Demon Lord, I apologize, but I must say something before we go any further.” Bowing his head as far as it can go the shadowed officer of the cult does his best to keep his resolve steady.

  A heavy silence fills the hall as the Demon Lord holds its gaze over the man, everyone of The Order is holding their breath knowing what comes next.

  “Speak.”

  The second in command quickly glares at the leader of The Order, prompting her to inform their lord of everything they know. Wincing at the glare, the woman quickly regains her confidence and while still bowing her head, she begins to speak the truth. “We uh… I should preface this by saying this is a secret known only to those in this room, but we already know of your true identity. And we would like to deeply apologize for the actions our members took against you. Please forgive us!” Taking a fully submissive pose, the cult’s leader places her hands far out in front of her and begs The Demon Lord for forgiveness. Quickly, every other member in the hall does the same, prompting The Demon Lord to freeze in place.

  …

  “Shit, so this whole little show was in fact a waste of time.” Glaring back at the two attendants behind her, The Demon Lord’s voice returns to its normal manaless tone. Neither seem affected by the gaze, and the demon with the cyclops skull even begins to try, and fail, to suppress a laugh.

  “Traitor.”