Imp to Demon King: A Journey of Conquest-Chapter 438: The Calm Before the Storm

Three days had passed like a fever dream.

Adam stood at the edge of Vinéa’s territory, his fingers unconsciously tracing the spot on his collarbone where Luna’s head had rested during their stolen moments of peace. The memory of her warmth lingered—a gentle counterweight to the cold fury that had consumed him in the abyss. She had worked her particular magic on more than just his body; somehow, in those quiet hours between whispered conversations and tender touches, she had begun to coax back pieces of the demon he used to be.

Not all of them. Perhaps not even most. But enough that when he looked at the small band of demons who had chosen to follow him into this madness, he felt something beyond the hollow satisfaction of commanding tools for his revenge.

"The scouts report Vinéa’s forces are positioned as expected," murmured Krix, a lean shadow demon whose loyalty had been earned through Adam’s promise of a better future. His dark form flickered like smoke in the crimson twilight of the demon realm. "Arrogant and complacent, just as you predicted, my lord." fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

Beside Krix, three other demons waited in the twisted shadows of gnarled trees. They were volunteers—demons who had heard Adam’s speech three days ago and chosen to risk everything for the chance to see a demon king fall. Their names were Vex, a minor incubus with acidic claws; Mora, a wraith-thin demoness whose mastery of illusions had kept them hidden during their approach; and Thane, a hulking brute whose tusks gleamed with anticipation for the coming battle.

Small numbers, but Adam preferred it that way. This wasn’t an invasion—it was an assassination. Clean, precise, and impossible to trace back to the other demon kings who might be watching for his tracks.

"Good," Adam murmured, his gaze sweeping across the twisted spires of Vinéa’s castle in the distance. The structure rose like a malignant growth from the scarred landscape, its architecture a mirror of the demon king’s taste for excess and intimidation. Thorned towers spiraled toward the bleeding sky, connected by bridges that looked more like the ribcage of some colossal beast.

Luna emerged from behind him, her pale beauty stark against the realm’s perpetual darkness. She had changed in these three days too—the haunted look that had shadowed her eyes since his banishment to the abyss had been replaced by something warmer, more hopeful. "The perimeter wards are exactly where our informants said they’d be," she reported, her voice carrying the musical quality that made even tactical reports sound like poetry. "Powerful, but designed to repel armies, not... intimate gatherings."

Adam’s lips curved in what might have been a smile. "Vinéa’s arrogance will be his downfall. He can’t conceive of being threatened by anything less than a full legion."

The words should have brought him savage satisfaction. Instead, he felt Luna’s gentle influence tempering his bloodlust into something more focused, more purposeful. Three days of her patient love had reminded him that revenge could be justice, but only if it served something greater than his own pain.

"The approach routes?" Adam asked, shifting into tactical mode while his small band gathered around him.

Krix gestured toward the castle with one shadowy appendage. "Three possibilities, my lord. The grand causeway—suicide for anything smaller than an army. The servant tunnels—monitored, but not heavily guarded. And..." He paused, uncertainty flickering across his insubstantial features. "The Screaming Peaks."

Thane snorted, his tusks clicking together. "The cliff face? That’s not a route, that’s certain death. The winds alone can strip flesh from bone."

"Exactly," Luna interjected, stepping forward with fluid grace. "Which is why it’s perfect. Vinéa’s ego won’t let him believe anyone would be mad enough to scale those peaks. No guards, no wards, no surveillance—because who would be insane enough to try?"

Adam studied the jagged cliffs that rose like broken teeth behind the castle. The winds that gave them their name had already begun their nightly chorus—a howling lament that spoke of ancient pain and endless suffering. It would be treacherous, potentially fatal, and completely unexpected.

Perfect.

"The Screaming Peaks it is," he decided. "But not all of us." His gaze swept over his small band of followers. "Krix, take Vex and Mora through the servant tunnels. Create a distraction—nothing major, just enough noise to draw attention away from the upper levels. Thane, you’re with me and Luna on the cliffs."

The hulking demon’s grin was savage with anticipation. "Finally, some proper climbing. Been too long since I’ve risked my neck for a good cause."

As his followers began their preparations, Adam found himself studying Luna’s face in the crimson light. She was beautiful—had always been beautiful—but these past three days had revealed depths he had forgotten existed. The way she listened without judgment when he spoke of the darkness he’d carried back from the abyss. The way she touched him, not just with desire, but with healing intent. The way she had slowly, patiently, helped him remember what he was fighting for instead of just what he was fighting against.

"Second thoughts?" she asked, though her tone suggested she already knew the answer.

"About killing Vinéa? Never." Adam’s voice was steady, but his hand found hers in the darkness. "About the way we do it? Every second."

She squeezed his fingers gently. "Good. Doubt keeps us from madness. Or... whatever passes for madness in our case."

Above them, the Screaming Peaks loomed like jagged teeth against the bleeding sky. The winds howled their eternal lament, a sound that had driven lesser demons mad with its relentless chorus of pain. But Adam had endured worse in the abyss—silence so complete it had nearly shattered his sanity. These screams were almost comforting by comparison.

"Luna," Adam said as they began their approach to the base of the cliffs, Thane following a respectful distance behind. "When this is over—when Vinéa is dead and we’ve sent our message to the other demon kings—remind me to take you somewhere beautiful. Somewhere that isn’t stained with blood or built on bones."

Her laughter was like silver bells in a storm. "I’ll hold you to that promise, my divinely handsome demon king. Though I admit, I’m curious where such a place might exist."

"I’m sure you’ll love Atlantis’ sea breeze and its surrounding forests," Adam replied, surprising himself with the words. Three days ago, such thoughts would have seemed like weakness, a distraction from the burning need for revenge. Now they felt like... hope.

As they reached the base of the Screaming Peaks, Adam allowed himself one last look back toward the future he was fighting to create, with every choice, every battle, every moment of mercy balanced against necessary violence.

Then he began to climb, Luna and Thane beside him, toward a confrontation that would send shockwaves through the demon realm.

The first demon king was about to learn why ascending from the lowest ranks didn’t make you weak—it made you hungry.

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