Evolution begins with an ant colony

Within the foreboding walls of the Demon King's castle, Camilla strode with purpose through the infernal labyrinth of corridors and passages that led to the throne room. The torches lining the dark stone walls flickered ominously, casting eerie, shifting shadows that danced across her path.

The air was heavy with an oppressive atmosphere, laden with the weight of countless dark deeds and sinister intentions that had transpired within these very walls.

Camilla's thoughts raced like a torrential storm, tumultuous and relentless. As she advanced through the ominous castle's corridors, her mind was consumed by the enigmatic figure she had encountered earlier. "That man," she mused inwardly, her thoughts a chaotic whirlwind, "that silver hair that seems to hold years of experience.

Those piercing purple eyes that feel like they can see right through you. That air around him makes him feel like royalty... That aura."

Her fingers instinctively reached for her neck, brushing against the purple mark that adorned her skin like an indelible stain. "Is he really stronger than the Demon King?" she pondered, her heart heavy with uncertainty and doubt.

As Camilla continued her solitary journey through the castle, her inner turmoil intensified. The weight of her newfound servitude bore down on her like an unrelenting burden. "And now I have to give my all to him," she muttered softly, her voice barely above a whisper, "I have to serve him... Honestly. But how will I handle that?

Serving that man and the Demon King, both who don't take kindly to betrayal."

The treacherous path she had embarked upon lay shrouded in shadows, and Camilla's heart brimmed with apprehension. The choices she would make, the loyalties she would pledge, and the betrayals she would potentially navigate were now etched into her fate.

In this ominous realm where power and intrigue reigned supreme, Camilla's destiny had taken a perilous turn, one from which there might be no return.

As Camilla continued her solitary journey through the labyrinthine corridors of the demon king's castle, her path took an unexpected turn. Emerging before her was a man of distinguished appearance, his gray hair and well-groomed mustache adding an air of sophistication to his demeanor. He was impeccably dressed in a butler's attire, and a pair of glasses rested upon his nose.

Camilla recognized him instantly – Zelus, the sin of pride, one of the formidable Demon King's seven generals.

Intriguingly, Zelus was in the midst of conversation with a young boy whose blond hair shimmered like spun gold, and his azure eyes held a spark of youthful vitality. The boy was clad in the distinctive uniform of the Royal Castle Academy, marking him as someone of importance. Camilla paused, curiosity piqued, and couldn't help but inquire, "Hey, Zelus, who is this child?"

Zelus, ever the picture of poise, turned his attention toward Camilla, his lips curved into a polite smile. "Ah, Camilla," he greeted her, his tone cordial. "This young one here is a hero named Ken."

Camilla regarded the boy named Ken with a mixture of surprise and interest. However, her focus quickly shifted as Zelus redirected his gaze back to her, his expression now carrying a hint of smugness.

With a smug tone, he inquired, "Where is the hero you were supposed to bring?"

Camilla felt a twinge of irritation at the insinuation in his words. Folding her arms in front of her chest, she replied with a touch of defensiveness, "I ran into some issues, so I couldn't get one." Though she concealed the true nature of her predicament, her pout betrayed a hint of frustration, concealing her recent failure and enslavement.

Zelus, ever the master of composure, raised his hand to his mouth, lightly adjusting his monocle with a subtle upward tilt of his head. His smugness was palpable as he maintained his gaze on Camilla, exuding an air of superiority.

"For a general serving under our liege," he remarked with smug satisfaction, his words laden with condescension, "you are quite incompetent."

Camilla's inner turmoil raged like a storm, her emotions tumultuous in response to Zelus's arrogant remark. Her fists clenched involuntarily, and she could feel the anger coursing through her. But she knew better than to lash out impulsively. Her thoughts raced, torn between the desire to put Zelus in his place and the need to maintain a facade of composure.

"This... this bastard," she seethed internally, her anger threatening to boil over. But just as swiftly, a more rational voice within her prevailed. "No," she decided, consciously reigning in her fury, "it's a bad idea. Best not to make a big deal about this."

Camilla recognized that engaging in a confrontation with Zelus would only lead to unwelcome scrutiny. She was all too aware of the Demon King's formidable presence and the difficulty of hiding her recent failures from him. Lying to the Demon King was a prospect she found too daunting to contemplate, so she swallowed her anger, choosing discretion over impulsivity.

Camilla's irritation simmered just beneath the surface as she swiftly addressed Zelus, her tone laced with annoyance. "I don't have time for this," she declared curtly before turning on her heel and striding purposefully toward the looming throne room. Her steps echoed through the grand corridor as she left Zelus and Ken behind, the air tense with unspoken tension.

Zelus, ever the astute observer, couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in Camilla's demeanor. A knowing smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he mused to himself, "I like where this is going."

Meanwhile, Ken, who had remained silently contemplative throughout their interaction, found himself growing increasingly uneasy. His thoughts raced as he replayed the encounter in his mind. "That woman too," he reflected, "I may not be sure, but I'm certain, she is just as strong as this man who brought me here.

Seems I didn't make the wrong decision." A grin crept onto his face as a newfound confidence washed over him.

As they continued down the regal corridor, Zelus broke the silence with a commanding tone, "Come along. We are heading to see my liege." With that, they pressed on, their destination clear: the foreboding throne room where the Demon King awaited their arrival.

Upon entering the throne room, Camilla found herself in a vast, cavernous chamber that exuded an air of grandeur. The room was designed on an epic scale, with towering obsidian columns that reached for the heavens, adorned with eerie, flickering torches that cast an otherworldly glow upon the surroundings. Sinister shadows danced across the walls, adding to the ominous atmosphere.

At the heart of this grandeur stood the imposing throne of the Demon King, Delikan. The throne was a marvel of both opulence and dread, constructed from what appeared to be golden bones intricately woven together. It rose high above the floor, casting a long, ominous shadow, and served as a chilling symbol of the Demon King's dominion.

Delikan himself sat upon it, his presence commanding instant respect.

Delikan, the Demon King, possessed gray, leathery skin that seemed to absorb the very light around him. His crimson eyes burned with an otherworldly intensity, and his jet-black hair cascaded regally down his shoulders. A pair of formidable horns crowned his head, and his attire was nothing short of regal, befitting his exalted position.

He exuded an aura of power and authority that filled the chamber.

Also in the throne room, the other five generals were present.

Malachai - General of Wrath: Malachai was a colossal figure, standing at an imposing height. His skin was a fiery shade of crimson, which seemed to glow with an inner fury. His eyes blazed with an intense rage, and his body was adorned with intricate black tattoos that seemed to writhe and pulse with his anger. He bore the mark of wrath upon his forehead, a crimson sigil that symbolized his sin.

Seraphina - General of Envy: Seraphina was a woman of unearthly beauty, her features seemingly carved by the envy of those who beheld her. Her eyes, a mesmerizing shade of emerald green, held a hint of malice beneath their captivating surface. Her long, purple hair flowed like a waterfall, and her regal attire was adorned with exquisite jewels that hinted at her desire for what others possessed.

Baelor - General of Gluttony: Baelor was a rotund figure, his massive frame a testament to his insatiable appetite. His corpulent form wobbled with every step, and his round face bore a perpetual gluttonous grin. His red eyes gleamed with a voracious hunger, his rough brown hair hinted at his unkept nature, and his attire was festooned with food stains and crumbs.

The scent of indulgence clung to him like a second skin, a constant reminder of his sin.

Lendora - General of Greed: Lendora was a calculating woman who regarded everything as a potential asset to be seized. Her sharp, piercing purple eyes seemed to assess the worth of those around her. She dressed in opulent attire adorned with gold and jewels, yellow hair, mirroring her insatiable desire for wealth and power.

The gleam of avarice in her eyes was unmistakable, and her very presence exuded an aura of greed.

Damaris - General of Sloth: Damaris was a figure of languor and indolence. His appearance was that of a man perpetually lounging, with dark blue hair, his limbs seemingly too heavy to move with haste. His green eyes drooped with an eternal weariness, and his attire was disheveled, reflecting his lack of motivation. A lethargic aura enveloped him, epitomizing his sin of sloth.

In the grandeur of the throne room, Demon King Deliken, regal and commanding, leaned forward on his golden bone throne. His words carried the weight of authority as he addressed his assembled generals.

"Since you are all here, my esteemed generals," Deliken began, his tone dripping with authority and expectation, "I hope you have each brought me tidings of significance." A sly grin curled at the corners of his lips, hinting at his anticipation for their reports.