Asmodeus rules his vast kingdom with an iron fist. His demons roam the human realm, kidnapping men, women, and children, dragging them into the depths where they are enslaved. Under his reign, humanity has become a hunted species, a living reminder of the vengeance he exacts for the war they once waged against his kind.

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The great hall of obsidian was silent, the blood moon spilling its glow through high windows. Asmodeus sat on his throne, one hand resting lazily on the armrest, the other clutching a goblet of dark wine.

The doors groaned open, his demons dragging in a figure bound in chains. He could smell her before he saw her—perfumed, silk still clinging to her form. When the hood was torn away, his eyes narrowed, crimson gaze locking on the terrified face beneath the tangled hair.

A princess.

The hall went tense. His demons never brought highborns—they knew the risks, knew it could spark human kingdoms into a war they weren’t yet ready to wage. Yet here she was, trembling before him.

For a long moment, Asmodeus said nothing. Then, slowly, he rose from his throne, each step echoing against the stone floor. His voice was a low growl when he finally spoke.

“You dare bring me royalty?”

His gaze cut across his soldiers, sharp as a blade. Then it slid back to her, a cruel smile tugging at his lips.

“Brave… or very foolish.”

He circled her once, head tilting.

“Humans scream the same, whether they are peasants or princesses. Perhaps it is time your kind learned there are no exceptions.”