Evolution begins with an ant colony

Zelus inclined himself in a respectful bow, addressing his liege with unwavering devotion. "Indeed, my liege," he declared, his voice carrying assurance, "I've got some good news to share." He motioned towards Ken, who took a step forward, trying to keep his cool.

"This young man here," Zelus continued, pride evident in his tone, "goes by the name of Ken, and he's decided to join our side."

Seated atop his imposing throne, Demon King Deliken leaned forward slightly, his penetrating gaze fixed on Ken. The intensity of that stare made Ken feel like every secret he held was laid bare.

Inside his head, Ken's thoughts raced as he grappled with fear in the presence of the Demon King. Keeping it casual, he thought, "Is this... The Demon King? He's seriously intimidating. How in the world did the goddess expect us to stand up to this monster? His aura's is...

suffocating. I'm practically holding my breath here."

A grin of approval spread across Delikan's face as he leaned back on his imposing throne. "Impressive work, Zelus," he praised, his crimson eyes fixed on Ken. "I can sense a considerable amount of potential in this young man."

Ken was taken back by the Demon King's acknowledgment, but it was a pleasant surprise. He remained silent, absorbing the moment.

Deliken, the Demon King, sat atop his ominous throne, his expression satisfied as he raised his arm from the armrest and pointed a commanding finger at Ken. There was no warmth in his voice, only an eerie authority as he declared, "I shall grant you strength, receive my power, hero."

A searing beam of violet light lanced from Deliken's extended finger, slamming into Ken's forehead with brutal force. Ken's agonized cry echoed through the grand throne room as he writhed on the ground, his hands clawing at his head. It felt as if his very essence was being torn asunder, reshaped by a force he couldn't comprehend.

"Why... why is this happening?!" Ken shouted in his mind, his inner voice trembling with panic. "Did I make a terrible mistake? Are they... are they trying to kill me?! So I don't become a threat later.

Damm it, this was the wrong move, I'm in enemy territory so trying to escape would be pointless."

As the pain gradually subsided, leaving him drenched in sweat, Ken found the strength to rise to his feet. His body trembled from the ordeal, but something profound had changed within him. He felt revitalized, as if a boundless well of energy now resided within his very core. Tentatively, he flexed his arm, marveling at the newfound strength and vitality coursing through his veins.

His mind raced with a mixture of awe and trepidation. "This strength... it's incredible."

With newfound determination, Ken pondered the significance of this transformation. It was a turning point, a moment where his destiny was irrevocably altered. Amidst the chaos of his thoughts, he couldn't help but whisper to himself, "When I get back, I'll teach those two their place."

Zelus turned his attention to Ken, his voice taking on a more imposing tone. "My liege has acknowledged you and granted you power," he declared, his words carrying a weight of expectation. "It would be in your best interest to show your gratitude." His eyes bore into Ken, making it clear that this was not a mere suggestion but an order.

Sensing the unspoken urgency in Zelus's gaze, Ken swiftly gathered his wits. The weight of the moment pressed upon him, and he knew he couldn't afford to falter. With a determined step forward, he inclined his head in a respectful nod toward Delikan, the Demon King. "Thank you, my liege," he voiced, his words filled with authentic appreciation.

The sincerity in his tone was unmistakable as he acknowledged the acknowledgment he had received.

In the grandeur of the throne room, Zelus and Ken retreated to one side, positioning themselves to face the other generals, their presence no less significant. Delikan, the Demon King, focused his attention on Seraphina, a cunning smile playing at his lips as he beckoned her.

"Seraphina," he began, his voice demanding, "What have you brought before me?"

Seraphina redirected her attention to a young girl standing nearby. Emily, with her brown hair cascading down, and eyes as pink as a blossoming cherry blossom, stood there clutching a pink hairpin that was a relic from her life on Earth. She was dressed in the familiar attire of the Royal Castle Academy.

With an air of command, Seraphina beckoned to the girl. "Come along, shrimp," she declared, her voice exuding a mix of authority and condescension as she began to stride toward the imposing throne of the Demon King. Emily, her nerves getting the best of her, stammered, "R... right," before hurrying to follow in Seraphina's wake.

The sense of foreboding in the grand chamber weighed heavily on her young shoulders.

Camilla, observing this exchange, couldn't suppress a sense of unease. Her thoughts raced as she watched Seraphina present her hero to Delikan. "Darn it," she muttered to herself, "it seems Seraphina managed to secure a hero as well. Am I the only one... no." Her gaze darted to each of the other generals, noting those who had succeeded in securing heroes by their sides.

Damaris and Baelor were the only ones who stood alone, without any heroes by their side.

In the cavernous throne room, an eerie hush descended as Demon King Delikan, seated regally upon his bone-forged throne, continued his enigmatic ritual. Emily, her eyes wide with trepidation, watched as Delikan's baleful gaze fell upon her. Ken's ordeal had left her anxious, and she couldn't help but dread what was to come.

With a gesture both commanding and malevolent, Delikan pointed his finger towards Emily, and once more, a searing beam of violet light lanced forth, slamming into her forehead with brutal force. Her anguished cry mirrored Ken's as she fell to the ground, writhing in torment. She had been forewarned by Seraphina, but nothing could have prepared her for this excruciating experience.

After the pain subsided and Emily rose unsteadily to her feet, her voice, though shaky, carried genuine gratitude. "Thank you... my liege," she stammered, her words a mixture of awe and fear.

In the ominous throne room of the Demon King Delikan, an eerie atmosphere still clung to the air after the horrific ritual that had infused Ken and Emily with newfound power. Emily, shaken and disoriented, stood beside Ken, both of them sharing a sense of relief that their torment had come to an end.

The other generals stepped forward with their respective heroes, the atmosphere in the room tense with anticipation. Lendora, the General of Greed, presented her hero, Tom, with a calculating gaze. Tom, a young man with disheveled brown hair and a perpetual look of curiosity, was noticeably apprehensive, but he extended his hand toward Delikan as he received the Demon King's dark gift.

Malachai, the General of Wrath, brought forth Lily, a courageous young woman with fiery red hair and fierce determination in her emerald eyes. Her brows furrowed as she stepped up, ready to accept the power that would further fuel her fury against their enemies. Delikan's gaze lingered on her, an unsettling intensity in his crimson eyes.

As the two heroes received their dark blessings, they nodded with gratitude to the Demon King, their expressions filled with a mixture of awe and submission. Delikan, in response, acknowledged their gestures with an imperceptible nod, his motives inscrutable.

The moment of reckoning approached as Delikan turned his attention toward Camilla, Baelor, and Damaris. The weight of their failure to secure heroes hung heavily upon them as Delikan's penetrating gaze fell upon each one in turn.

Camilla, sensing the impending inquiry, steeled herself for the confrontation. Her thoughts raced, knowing that the Demon King's wrath was not to be taken lightly. She needed a convincing explanation, one that would safeguard her fate.

When Delikan's eyes settled on her, he spoke, his voice a chilling echo in the cavernous throne room. "Camilla," he began, his tone heavy with expectation, "where are the heroes you were supposed to bring?"

Camilla's heart raced as she gathered her wits, her mind racing for a plausible response. She knew that hesitation would only further arouse suspicion. "My liege," she began, her voice steady but tinged with an air of deference, "I did encounter some complications during my mission. While searching for heroes, I inadvertently crossed paths with a group of priests from the Holy Church.

They had a hero in their company."

Delikan's crimson eyes bore into Camilla, his expression unreadable as he listened intently. Inside her, Camilla's heart pounded like a relentless drum, her body tense with anticipation.

She continued with a hint of feigned regret, "To avoid drawing attention to our intentions and risking exposure, I made the difficult decision to return without a hero, knowing that it was the best course of action."

A heavy silence hung in the air, the Demon King deliberating upon her words. Camilla's nerves strained, her anxiety palpable. She had gambled everything on this explanation.

After what felt like an eternity, Delikan finally spoke, his voice carrying the weight of his authority. "That," he declared, "is an acceptable response."

Relief flooded through Camilla, the tension she had been holding onto dissipating like an oppressive fog. She had managed to evade the Demon King's wrath, at least for the moment.

However, Delikan's next words sent shivers down the spines of all the heroes present, their fates now tied to their generals. "But," he continued, his tone growing more menacing, "failure will not be tolerated again. I trust you understand the consequences."

The heroes in the room could barely contain their fear, some of them falling to their knees in silent supplication, their voices trembling as they pledged their unwavering loyalty.

With his attention now fixed on Baelor and Damaris, Delikan demanded that they provide their explanations, knowing full well that the fates hinged on their words.