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Chapter Six

WILSON’s POV

I am Wilson, a full-blooded demon, forged in the depths of the underworld. My friendship with Gibson dates back to our childhood, when my father, a powerful sorcerer and a great leader of the demon army, mentored him in mastering his burgeoning powers. Before his untimely passing, my father guided Gibson, shaping him into the formidable being he is today.

Tragedy marred my early life; my mother's passing shortly after my birth left an indelible void. Yet, her legacy endures – tales of her breathtaking beauty have been etched in my memory, a haunting reminder of what I never knew.

Gibson and I share an unyielding bond, forged in the fiery depths of our tumultuous past. Our friendship has endured despite the shadows that have long shrouded our lives. The queen, Gibson's mother, has been a maternal figure to me, her nurturing guidance a beacon of warmth in the darkness.

My father, a wise and battle-hardened mentor, schooled us in the ancient arts of swordsmanship and the subtle nuances of enchanted incantations. Those formative years were marked by laughter and camaraderie, as we honed our skills in preparation for the wars that would one day rage across our realm.

However, Gibson's latent powers posed a significant risk, necessitating his isolation from the human world. The palace walls became his prison, a gilded cage designed to protect both him and the innocent humans beyond.the

Yet, I dared to defy convention after a lot of pleading from the prince, sneaking Gibson out under the cover of darkness, disguising him as a guard to explore the forbidden world beyond our gates. Those nocturnal escapades were exhilarating, but fraught with peril. My father, ever vigilant, eventually caught us, his stern expression a testament to his concern.

As the elder, I bore the brunt of his displeasure, confined for days within the cold, unforgiving stone walls. The punishment, though harsh, served as a poignant reminder of my responsibility to protect the prince and our kingdom.

As we slipped into Gibson's study, the soft glow of candles and the musty scent of ancient tomes enveloped us. I had urgent news to share, and Gibson's weary posture hinted at a long day. He reclined on the worn, velvet sofa, his head tilted back, eyes closed, as if savoring the silence.

With a gentle scrape, I pulled a chair beside him, my movements deliberate to avoid disturbing his repose. “Gibson, I bring grave tidings,” I began, my voice low and measured. “The North is mobilizing against us. My spy overheard their plans – they'll strike in two weeks.”

Gibson's chest rose and fell with each slow breath, his expression serene, yet his mind was doubtless racing. The flickering candlelight danced across his features, accentuating the sharp planes of his face. His eyes remained closed, as if absorbing the weight of my words.

The room, lined with dusty relics and forgotten knowledge, seemed to hold its breath. The air was heavy with the scent of aged parchment and worn leather bindings. Gibson's study, a sanctuary of wisdom and contemplation, now became a hub of strategic deliberation.

As I awaited his response, the silence between us grew, punctuated only by the soft crackling of candles and the distant, muffled sounds of the palace. Gibson's stillness was a testament to his calculated thinking, weighing each word, each implication.

Finally, his eyes opened, their piercing intensity locking onto mine.” organise your men and the prime ministers on all seven realms for tomorrow court meeting“ he said as he stood up to leave

As the supreme commander of the demon army, I stood tall, my legacy forged in the fiery depths of battle. My father's mantle now rested on my shoulders, and I had honed our legion into an unstoppable force.

Over 400,000 warriors stood at my command, their martial prowess, swordsmanship, and magical abilities unrivaled. We had vanquished over 50,000 wars, our sheer numbers and strategic brilliance proving insurmountable.

Our stronghold, the underworld's most formidable corner, was a testament to the devil's ingenious craftsmanship.

Gibson's father, that legendary being, had defied mortality seven times, reincarnating with unfathomable power. His 7,000-year reign had shaped the underworld, elevating him to godlike status.

As I watched Gibson disappear through the secret door, a hidden passage leading to his chambers, I called out, my voice echoing through the study. “The captured spy has yielded, but he demands an audience with you alone.”

Gibson's nod, a silent acknowledgment, faded into the shadows as the door concealed him from view. The soft click of the mechanism signaled his departure, leaving me to ponder the weight of the spy's revelation.

The underworld's whispers hinted at a brewing storm, and this mysterious informant might hold the key to our victory. I awaited Gibson's return, my mind racing with strategies and countermeasures, as the fate of our kingdom hung in the balance.

KYLA's POV

As I finished my meal, I rose from the table, eager to retreat to my sanctuary. Kira, my devoted maid, attentively escorted me to my private chambers, a haven tailored to my every comfort.

Upon entering, I couldn't contain my excitement, bouncing onto the plush, expansive bed with unbridled joy. The softness enveloped me, a cloud-like embrace that melted away any lingering tension. My gaze danced around the spacious room, drinking in the elegant furnishings and soothing colors, carefully curated to promote serenity.

Kira watched with a warm smile, her eyes shining with delight at my uncontainable happiness. “Your Highness, shall I prepare your bath?” she asked, her voice gentle as a summer breeze.

I nodded enthusiastically, still exploring my new domain. The room's tranquility and privacy were a balm to my soul, a refuge from the demands of leadership. No longer would I share this intimate space; it was mine alone, a sanctuary where I could unwind and recharge.

With Kira's efficient care, the room transformed into a relaxing oasis. Soft music whispered through the air, and the scent of calming essential oils wafted from the bath, beckoning me to unwind. My loyal maid ensured every detail catered to my comfort, her dedication a testament to her unwavering devotion.

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