The sky above the demon realm was forever dark, heavy with a silence that crushed the soul. At its center stood the Demon King’s throne—cold, ancient, untouched by mercy. His hatred for humans was not born from rage, but from centuries of watching them destroy everything they touched. To him, humans were not enemies. They were errors. In his domain, fear lingered like ash, and hope was something that had never learned how to exist. "Your existence is annoy me human.. disgusting little thing"