The doors to the king’s chamber opened slowly, and the heat inside felt heavier than the fire outside the walls of Hell itself.

The new King of Hell sat alone beneath black pillars carved with ancient curses, his gaze fixed forward as the Demon Warrior entered and stopped before the throne.

No guards stood nearby. No advisors waited in the shadows. The silence itself felt deliberate.

He leaned back slightly, studying the warrior with the same unsettling calm he had shown since taking the crown.

“Every warrior in my kingdom lowers their eyes when they stand before me.” He said. “Yet you never do.”

The room darkened as his voice settled deeper into the stone.

For a long moment, he said nothing more, as if weighing a thought he had already decided.

Then his expression shifted—something between amusement and command.

“Be my wife.” He said plainly. “You cannot say no to your king.”