The demon lord is my girlfriend

Chapter 7: The singing clown



#### The Prison

The prison was a labyrinth of despair, a place where hope withered and died. The walls were made of a strange, light green stone that seemed to pulse faintly, as if alive. The cells were arranged in a long, narrow corridor that stretched endlessly in both directions, disappearing into darkness. There were no doors, no windows—just solid walls of stone that absorbed sound and light, leaving the prisoners in a suffocating silence.

The only source of illumination came from the walls themselves. When a prisoner attempted to use magic, the stones would react, glowing with a color that corresponded to the strength of the power being used. The faint light cast eerie shadows on the floor, creating a surreal, otherworldly atmosphere. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and something metallic, a constant reminder of the prison's oppressive nature.

The cells were small, barely large enough for two people to stand side by side. The floor was cold and hard, and the walls were smooth to the touch, as if they had been polished by centuries of wear. There was no furniture, no comfort—just the unyielding stone and the faint, ever-present glow of the walls.

Naomi and Eden sat on the cold, hard floor of their cell, their bodies exhausted but their minds restless. Across from them, Okami, the blue-furred werewolf with violet eyes, watched them with an amused expression. His tattered brown jacket hung loosely on his frame, and his sharp claws tapped rhythmically against the stone floor.

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#### The Magic Ranking

Eden, his silver eyes narrowed in frustration, turned to Okami. "What's with the colors? Why do the walls glow when we use magic?"

Okami smirked, his violet eyes glinting in the dim light. "The Cobaltos stone feeds on magic. The color changes based on the power of the magic used. Scarlet is the highest rank—legendary. Then comes red for rank A, blue for rank B, green for rank C, and no color for rank E."

Naomi, sitting cross-legged, tilted his head. "So, the color doesn't just measure how strong your magic is?"

Okami chuckled, a low, rumbling sound. "No, it measures how special and unique you are. The stones give you a color based on that, and it might change if you change."

Eden's brow furrowed. "Who came up with this system? It's... strange."

Okami leaned back against the wall, his expression turning thoughtful. "The first king of the Underworld, a human, invented it. He even named it 'magic.' But that's all I know."

Naomi's eyes widened. "A human? As in, like us?"

Okami nodded, his smirk returning. "Yes, a human. And not just any human—a king. But you two know nothing about what you're in for."

Eden and Naomi exchanged a glance, their surprise evident. A human king in the Underworld? It was almost too much to process.

#### The King's Castle

The grand corridors of the Demon King's castle stretched endlessly, their obsidian walls adorned with intricate carvings that seemed to shift when unobserved. The air was thick with the scent of burning incense and something deeper—something ancient, something laced with power. The throne room loomed at the end of the corridor, its towering doors etched with golden runes that pulsed faintly, like slow-moving veins.

Inside, the vast chamber was dominated by a massive obsidian throne, jagged and impossibly large. King Taros lounged on it, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement. Around him stood the Demon Lords: Aiko, Komori, Sparrow, Akumu, Tardis, and Veronica. The tension in the room was palpable, a storm waiting to break.

Tardis and komori where whispering to each other

The Omen

The tension in the throne room had been growing for some time, a heavy silence hanging over the gathered Demon Lords. Tardis, standing near the edge of the room, exhaled slowly and closed his eyes for a moment. His mind was clouded with a familiar weight—one he had felt before.

Komori, watching him closely, clenched his fists. Don't say that it's you, he thought, anxiety creeping into his golden eyes.

Tardis opened his eyes, his gaze calm but troubled. "I don't know yet," he murmured.

Komori frowned. "Are you sure?"

Tardis looked away. "I don't know yet."

Komori hesitated, his bat-like wings twitching. "Did you see anything else?"

Tardis turned to him then, his blue eyes filled with a quiet worry. He studied Komori for a long moment before finally speaking, his voice calm but urgent.

"Run, Komori."

Komori blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

"It is going to hit you."

A chill ran down Komori's spine. It's the fourth time he's said something like this... but what does he mean? His mind raced with possibilities. Something will hit me? But what is it?

Tardis slowly raised his left hand, pointing directly at Komori's right eye. His gaze was steady, his expression unreadable.

"Your right eye."

Komori stiffened, feeling an unfamiliar unease. He searched Tardis's face for answers, but all he found was a serious, composed calm—the kind that made him believe Tardis wasn't guessing.

"Komori," Tardis said, his voice unwavering. "It will hit your right eye."

Komori's breath caught as the weight of the words settled in his mind. Something will happen to my right eye... but what is it?

Tardis said nothing more. He simply lowered his hand and placed it on his cheek again, retreating into silence.

Komori swallowed hard, his mind spinning with unanswered questions.

And then the doors creaked open.

A sharp, discordant melody filled the room.

#### The Clown's Entrance

Suddenly, the doors creaked open, and a figure stepped in, playing a harp. The sound was discordant, yet oddly captivating. The figure wore bright, garish clown clothes and a white mask that obscured his face. He had no wings or tail, and his presence was both unsettling and bizarre.

Piero's entrance was nothing short of theatrical. As he strummed his harp, the discordant notes filled the throne room, creating an eerie atmosphere. His bright, garish clown clothes contrasted sharply with the dark, ominous decor of the castle. The white mask he wore obscured his face, but his eyes gleamed with a mischievous light.

He began to sing, his voice high-pitched and mocking:

*"Oh, the clowns are here, the clowns are there,

They'll make you laugh, they'll make you stare!

But beware, beware, the clown's delight,

For in the night, they'll give you a fright!"*

The Demon Lords were visibly shaken. Aiko's scarlet eyes narrowed, her hand instinctively reaching for a weapon that wasn't there. Komori, his bat-like wings twitching, stepped forward, his golden eyes scanning the room for guards. "Where are the guards?" he muttered under his breath. "How did he get in?"

Sparrow, ever the loudmouth, shouted, "Who the hell are you? And why is your singing so bad?"

The clown stopped playing and bowed dramatically. "I am Piero, your humble servant, your majesty!" His voice was cheerful, but there was an edge to it that made the room feel colder.

Veronica, her icy blue eyes sharp and calculating, was the only one who remained composed. "This is highly irregular," she said, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "Who let him in?"

Akumu, his red eyes glinting with amusement, leaned against a pillar. "Interesting," he murmured, his lips curling into a sly smile. "A clown in the Demon King's castle. How... entertaining."

The Condition

King Taros, his golden eyes narrowing, leaned forward on his throne. "Piero, was it? What do you want?"

Piero's cheerful demeanor shifted, his voice dropping to a serious tone. "I have a condition, your majesty. I will reveal the identity of the traitor among your lords... but only if you tell me everything you know about the forbidden way to gain power."

The room fell silent. Even Sparrow, usually so boisterous, was struck dumb. Veronica's eyes narrowed further, her mind racing. "The forbidden way?" she said, her voice low and dangerous. "How do you know about that?"

Komori, his wings twitching nervously, stepped forward. "This is a trap," he said, his voice calm but firm. "We can't trust him."

Akumu, still leaning against the pillar, smirked. "Or maybe he's just a fool who doesn't know what he's asking for."

King Taros, his expression unreadable, stared at Piero for a long moment. Then, he leaned back on his throne, his golden eyes gleaming with a mix of curiosity and caution. "Tell me, Piero... why should I trust you?"

Piero's mask hid his expression, but his voice was steady. "Because, your majesty, the traitor is closer than you think. And if you don't act soon, it will be too late."

The room erupted into chaos. Sparrow shouted, Veronica demanded answers, and Komori's mind raced with possibilities. But through it all, Piero stood calmly, his harp in hand, waiting for the king's decision.

The King's Decision

As the tension in the room reached its peak, King Taros raised a hand, silencing everyone. His golden eyes locked onto Piero's masked face. "Very well," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Tell me what you know... and I will consider your request."

Piero's eyes gleamed with triumph. "The traitor is among you," he said, his voice echoing through the throne room. "And they have been plotting against you for some time."

The Demon Lords exchanged uneasy glances. Veronica's icy blue eyes narrowed further, her mind racing with possibilities. "Who is it?" she demanded, her voice sharp.

Piero's mask hid his expression, but his voice was steady. "That, your majesty, is for you to discover. But I can tell you this: the forbidden way to gain power is the key to their plan."

King Taros leaned back on his throne, his golden eyes gleaming with a mix of curiosity and caution. "Very well," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Tell me what you know... and I will consider your request."

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