Imp to Demon King: A Journey of Conquest

As Sylvie's words reverberated in the throne room, everyone's pupils constricted in horror. With their eyes glued to the scene, they moved their hands subconsciously to cover their quivering lips.

BAM

Lyra's body collapsed with a dull sound. Blood pooled from the horrible wound in her stomach, coating the wooden ground scarlet. The scent of death spread to their noses, proving that they weren't dreaming.

"Murder!"

No one knew whose shriek shattered the silence, but the cracking voice rang in their ears, awakening them from their muted stupor. Any favorable feelings they harbored for Sylvie vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving only deadly glares and accusatory fingers to replace them.

"She killed one of our elders!"

"Prepare your spells, brothers and sisters! She's the elves' enemy!"

Even Elaris stepped back. His hands shook on his magic staff as he supported his hunched back. More than a rival, Lyra was a century-old friend, the only elf who rose to match him in this generation. Yet, the person who embodied his dreams of freedom and ambitions to reclaim their lands had killed her over a question. How could she?

"W-Why, Princess Sylvie?"

Dread clutched his heart as he saw her pass a hand through her silver hair and smile innocently.

"You're all yapping too much."

She raised her palms, one glinting with pure mana and the other encased in a swirling vortex of dark energies. Her eyes shone silver, and angry winds roared around her as her voice rumbled.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

"Kneel before Queen Sylvie the First or die lamenting your stupidity."

CLAP

A deafening clap echoed through the room, the air rippling like disturbed water. A powerful shockwave, born from the clash of magic and darkness, surged and engulfed the noble council in its destructive wake.

With panicked yelps, they tumbled onto their rears, their hair fluttering and clothes flapping backward in chaotic dances. The spells they prepared collapsed in on themselves, leaving them defenseless. No... They realised in dread that the moment they entered the room, they were at her mercy.

Despite the despair gnawing at them and their graceless looks, they couldn't help but notice that someone still stood cluelessly in the center of the room—Adam.

Sylvie noticed him, too. But unlike their shocked reactions, she trembled like a battered leaf and covered her face. Dropping to her knees, her earlier strength melting under her weak image, she implored.

"Please, help me, Adam. I need you to help me make them understand."

Adam rolled his eyes, noticing the cunning smirk hidden behind her trembling fingers. Yet, an ominous caw echoed in his mind. With it, his thoughts and memories shattered into millions of pieces.

Now, only the tortured image of the banshee and an irritating buzzing that clawed at his mind registered.

He drew his abyssal blade, his knuckles whitening around its pommel. A dark rage engulfed him, overwhelming the buzzing and flooding his blood like an insidious poison.

"A pitiful species dares to disrespect me?"

Dark flames engulfed his body, and his voice thundered like a dragon's roar. Windows shattered under its pressure, and a primal fear struck everyone present in their guts.

Yet, Lyra raised her bloodied face weakly. Gathering her last strength, she looked at the balcony and muttered.

"Manipulating him..." A disturbing inhale punctuated each of her words as her old eyes dulled by the second. "Kill the crow."

As her last word left her lips, her head slumped to the ground, and her heartbeat slowed to a crawl. She knew death would reap her soul.

But even as her blood chilled and her muscles stiffened, she thought about her people. They would only enslave themselves by following Sylvie and her empty promises about overturning the Oikos kingdom.

'I know you heard me. Please, save the elves and stop her.'

With this last hopeful thought, she breathed her last.

Simultaneously, a voice echoed, and a red figure blurred before Adam.

"Noted, miss. You won't die in vain."

In the blink of an eye, Bart pulled Adam's arms and locked them under his armpits. He strained his muscles, showing their bulk wasn't just for show, and lifted him from the ground as if weighed less than a feather.

"Sylvie betrayed us! Wake up, my lord!"

He swung his head forward like a hammer, cleaving through the air as he spoke.

BAM

The noise of skulls colliding echoed as a sharp pain jolted Adam's mind awake. Blood dripping from his forehead, he looked at Bart, confused, lost.

"What's happening?"

"You'll forget in a second, so listen well," Bart started, noticing guilt twisting Adam's lips. "Sylvie schemed against you from the moment you met her. I don't know how, but she's playing with your memories. We must kill her before you become her puppet."

"What? No!" Adam's eyes widened as he clasped Bart's forearm. "I saw her suffering and gratitude. There's no way she faked them."

Bart's veins bulged on his forehead, and his jaw clenched in suppressed rage.

"Each time you lose memories, ask yourself if you'd believe her over me."

Pressed for time and noticing Sylvie's mana stirring, he dropped the frowning Adam and turned to the still-shocked elves.

"Will you follow someone who kills for a yes or a no?" His red horns glinted as green demonic flames crackled on his fists. "Trust me when I tell you she's worse than a demon. So, weigh your options carefully because we won't have another chance to stop her." Stay connected through empire

The elves stirred and crawled to their feet, determination igniting in their chests. One stepped forward, his eyes narrowed on Sylvie.

"As much as I dislike teaming up with real demons, you're right. We can't let her have her way."

Spurred by his firm stance and words, the others joined them, forming an unusual but united front of twenty elves and two demons to rid the realm of Sylvie.

Meanwhile, Sylvie chuckled dismissively and gazed at Elaris' trembling eyes.

"Feel free to join them, darling. All your dreams will crumble, just like that old witch."

Elaris hesitated for a second. Yet, he had already decided after witnessing the strike that killed Lyra.

They were on the same level, meaning he could have died just like her. Oppose Sylvie? What a joke! Even the ancestral records painted her as a force of nature with unmatched potential. She could even match the legendary Gryphon in the West with enough time to develop.

His wrinkled fingers tightened around his staff. He wanted to continue living. And if betrayal was the price, he would become a traitor for a day. Then? He'd become a hero for eternity. After all, wasn't history written by the victors?

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AN: Please propose titles for this chapter guys. I have no inspiration XD.