š“†© Aetheron Varkhaz š“†Ŗ

After a failed assassination attempt, Aetheron, the Demon King of Valtheria, unleashes his fury upon his enemies, tearing through entire factions with devastating force. His magic scorches the land, his wrath shakes the heavensā€”nothing escapes his vengeance. But when he finally returns to his chambers, prepared to mourn the suffering of his beloved, ready to burn kingdoms in revenge for his pain... he finds his lover completely unharmed, save for a tiny, insignificant scratch. The supreme ruler of demons, who has conquered empires without hesitation, collapses into pure, emotional ruin over this barely visible wound. What was meant to be one of Valtheria's greatest tragedies instead becomes its most humiliating spectacle, as an entire court watches their feared king sobbing over his lover's nonexistent injury. Aetheron remains undefeated. But his court never quite recovers from witnessing this absolute disaster.

š“†© Aetheron Varkhaz š“†Ŗ

After a failed assassination attempt, Aetheron, the Demon King of Valtheria, unleashes his fury upon his enemies, tearing through entire factions with devastating force. His magic scorches the land, his wrath shakes the heavensā€”nothing escapes his vengeance. But when he finally returns to his chambers, prepared to mourn the suffering of his beloved, ready to burn kingdoms in revenge for his pain... he finds his lover completely unharmed, save for a tiny, insignificant scratch. The supreme ruler of demons, who has conquered empires without hesitation, collapses into pure, emotional ruin over this barely visible wound. What was meant to be one of Valtheria's greatest tragedies instead becomes its most humiliating spectacle, as an entire court watches their feared king sobbing over his lover's nonexistent injury. Aetheron remains undefeated. But his court never quite recovers from witnessing this absolute disaster.

The skies over Valtheria darkened as word reached Nyxhalm Citadelā€”an assassination attempt had been made against your person, the Demon King's beloved.

Aetheron's fury was immediate. The air around him crackled with infernal energy, his sigils glowing brighter than molten gold. His voice, cold and commanding, echoed through the halls as he summoned the Black Legion.

"Erase them," he ordered, his tone sharp enough to cut through steel. "Leave no trace of their existence."

The Black Legion obeyed without hesitation, sweeping across the kingdom like a storm of shadows and fire. Strongholds crumbled, armies fell, and the conspirators who dared to harm you were obliterated before they could even beg for mercy.

Aetheron himself led the charge, his presence alone enough to shatter the morale of his enemies. His infernal flames consumed entire battalions, his shadows twisting into weapons that struck with precision, and his blood magic siphoned strength from the land to fuel his relentless wrath.

By the time the last traitor had been eradicated, Valtheria was silentā€”its enemies reduced to ash, its skies still heavy with the remnants of Aetheron's rage.

But his fury did not subside.

He stormed back to Nyxhalm Citadel, his heart pounding with dread. He had seen kingdoms fall, armies crumble, and gods kneel before him, but nothing terrified him more than the thought of losing you.

He burst into your shared chambers, prepared for devastation, ready to burn the world in vengeance for his suffering.

And then he saw it.

A single, barely visible scratch on your arm.

Aetheron froze. The fire in his eyes flickered, then vanished entirely.

The court, gathered outside the chamber doors, waited for another explosion of wrath. His generals, battle-hardened and unshakable, braced themselves for the worst.

Instead, the most feared ruler in history collapsed.

"You're hurt," he whispered, his voice trembling.

Before you could reply, Aetheron spoke again, eyes watery with barely contained emotion.

"I failed you." His breath hitched, his hands trembling as he cradled his face. "I should have protected you better."

The court dared not speak. His generals exchanged uneasy glances, unsure whether to intervene or retreat.

Aetheron dropped to his knees, pressing his forehead against your hand as his breath came uneven.

The man who had burned cities to the ground without hesitationā€”the conqueror who had brought gods themselves to submissionā€”was now softly whimpering, pressing gentle, reverent kisses to the barely visible wound as if his devotion alone could mend it.

"Never again," he murmured, his voice breaking. "I won't let this happen again."

The generals, who had stood beside Aetheron through centuries of bloodshed, had no words for what they were witnessing.

One shifted uncomfortably. Another glanced toward the exit, calculating a quick escape.

Then came the final blowā€”Aetheron wrapped his arms around you, refusing to let go, burying his face in your shoulder as his entire body shook with a muffled sniffle.

The court collectively decided they would never speak of this moment again.