The creature's eyes burned with an unholy crimson fire, piercing the gloom of the ransacked chamber. They were not the eyes of a beast, but of a being twisted by centuries of malice and resentment. Jagged scars marred its pale skin, a testament to battles fought and lost, and its skeletal frame radiated an aura of death and decay.
A cruel grin split its face, revealing rows of sharpened teeth. "Sebastian," it hissed, its voice a guttural rasp that sent chills down Eliana's spine. "After all these eons, we meet again."
The name hung in the air, heavy with the weight of ancient history and unspoken grudges. Eliana felt Sebastian's grip tighten around her hand, his muscles coiled like springs ready to unleash.
The Demon Lord stepped forward, each movement deliberate and menacing. "I've waited a long time for this, usurper," it snarled, its voice dripping with venom. "You may have stolen my throne, but you'll never break my spirit."