The Overlord Of Death

Prologue

There were many eyes that rested on only one person. He sat at the farthest center of the room. Every individual except the man knelt before him. Rather, it was not a man, but a boy.

In another world outside of hell, the person in question could be considered at the prime of his youth. The man had a dominating presence in the room, his deep ebony hair contrasting with his piercing red eyes and instilling a sense of fear in the casual observer. There was an arcane weapon that restricted fractions of his strength disguised as a one-sided skull earring. It was hidden under his death black hair, unable to be seen unless you were precisely looking for it. The string that bound the earring to the boy's ear lobe was a platinum chain wrapped loosely around the whole structure before it was secured with a circular lock. The chain itself was hard to miss, especially if the spectators were merchants.

Behind him flew a peculiar black coat with a majestic trademark. The emblem could not be seen, but there were banners hanging on the ceilings evenly on both sides of the room. It represented a mix breed creature trapped in a golden pentagon cage: Fading into the left corner was a pair of white dragon's horn attached to the scalp of a chimera. The emblem represented the formidable strength of Hell's sovereign.

Every person kneeling to him in respect lowered their head and dared not to lift it for even a second. There was no one in the room who showed a hint of disloyalty towards the boy sitting on the throne. There was only devoted admiration.

They could feel his red eyes searching through the congested room staring aloofly on their foreheads. It was impossible to not sense the dominating pressure released. But, it was easy to guess who it came from.

The people who were present were not just any ordinary individuals either. They were the best of the best representatives in Hell. There was a particular group that stood out the most in the room, especially the ones who knelt at the front line.

It included skilled subs who worked under the boy's strongest team, The Guardians and The Overseer. The subs were positioned in the second row of the assembly while the Guardians knelt in the front row.

In front of the room were a dozen stairs; The ruler sat on the highest step and the Overseer stood next to him on the step below.

In hell, only the strongest could sit on the highest elevation. The status of an individual did not matter because status was given to the physically strongest, anyway. The struggle of power was not an uncommon talk among other worlds, but Hell was different. There was no one here who opposed each other. They only shared one goal, and it was to dedicate everything to their creator.

The boy waved his hand in the air dismissively. The way he moved was beautiful itself. Without any exceptions,  his movements shook the room slightly with its force. He calmly opened his mouth.

"Stand."

Every person kneeling awaited the row in front of them before standing up. The guardians were the first to initialize the pattern. It was a way of respecting the upper class.

The overseer smiled pleasantly at the scene before him, his happiness could not be described in just mere words. The Overlord of Death deserved nothing less than respect.

"Noidor, the agenda." The boy said as he shifted his gaze to the handsome man next to him.

The overseer nodded his head and turned to face the crowd.

"Yes, as we all know, the time for world domination has come."

The audience stared at the overseer with joy in their eyes. No one cheered nor clapped because they were in the presence of the Supreme Being. They decided that an act of that caliber would most certainly disgrace the one before them.

"Conquering the human world wasn't in our priority list, but a conflict between that world and us has now broken the peace treaty. "

No one said anything. They knew what the conflict was all too well. Bringing it up now wouldn't bring any merits.

"Lord Daebzhir's ambition is no longer just an entertainment. We will repay them all of the troubles we had these past years that they had caused us. Only then will our Lord's vengeance be soothed. "

The man's grip on his clothes tightened. He was angry on behalf of the Lord and Hell. Noibor could not spare a single one of them, it was too late for mercy now.

Noibor shifted his position so that he was kneeling on one leg and broadly opened his arms to the boy. In the palms of his hand was staff that radiated power.

The staff was a project that the sovereign and his Guardians worked on for thousands of years. Named after a former princess's toy, the staff gained its recognition as 4rc Strike in Hell.

The boy that every entity in room baptized as the Supreme Being was The Overlord of Death, Deabzhir Demitris Dean. It was rare for him to bring the staff out, but its mere presence in the room proved how significant this meeting was.

Daebzhir grabbed the staff from Noibor's palm and pounded it on the ground. The room shook tremendously, but no one bothered about it. What captured their eyes was the figure presented upon them.

It was a ceremonious sight where the lord stood diligently wearing his black cloak and signature robe. He held 4rce Strike in one hand with pride. It was as if he came from a painting to greet them.

"This is the the first time we will attempt any form of hostility toward the humans until now. I know that during the past thousands of year, many of you have spent your time in the human world. There is bound to be lingering connections; That is, I don't want to force my ideals on you."

Daebzhir let out a long sigh before continuing, his face wrinkling in regret.

"I will let you go if you choose not to follow me. "

The break of silence slowly turned from mere seconds to half an hour in a blink of an eye. A sly curve stretched on Noibor's face.

"To confirm your determination, an offering will be propose to me." Daebzhir mumbled.

The message was sent a year ago predicting today's event around Hell. Everyone in the room knew what they were doing as they prepared their sacred offerings. Depending on the material, a grade was given. Anything below the suggested grade failed the ritual and was forced to step back in their role.

This ceremony was different from past times. They weren't grouped in the same priority list from minor offenses that Hell had to endure. Although it had never happened once in this world, the word betrayal was enough to make Daebzhir question his underlings will.

Following the usual ceremony, the strongest under Daebzhir would step forward first to give him their offerings. Usually, these offerings were used as food for 4rce Strike: They were nourishment to quench the blood-thirst of the staff-having been created using dark forms of life. Once the staff absorbed the given material, it will then cast a one-sided binding contract with the entity and Daebzhir that could be enabled and disabled at Daebzhir's will.

In other words, full control of their mind, body, and power.

The people at the front walked several steps toward Daebzhir. It closed the proximity between them.

The ones who stepped up were none other than the Guardians. There were 8 with the exception of Noibor:
Zero
Sebastian
The twins Maru and Aurora
Narelle
Lystis
Floura
and Ouwlis.

"Well then, shall we start?"