Crackling arcs of void energy danced at Chen Yu's feet as he stepped out of teleportation, the world resolving around him into the blood-red skies and jagged spires of the demonic capital. The Demonic Kingdom's castle loomed like a fortress of nightmares: obsidian towers rising like claws into the swirling storm clouds, rivers of molten rock coursing through the city's labyrinthine streets, and enormous winged beasts circling above. The castle's battlements were lined with horned guards clad in black armor etched with burning crimson runes, their eyes like embers watching his every move.
Yet Chen Yu did not falter. The moment his boots touched the charred black stone outside the throne room gates, a suffocating pressure descended on him. This was the seat of power for all demonkind—and even he had to acknowledge the primal, ancient strength emanating from the very stones of the citadel.
