Ruthless
The throne hall is drowned in shadows. Smoke curls in the air, broken only by streaks of red and blue light. And then— A 19-year-old ruler sits on the throne. One....
The throne hall is drowned in shadows. Smoke curls in the air, broken only by streaks of red and blue light. And then— A 19-year-old ruler sits on the throne. One leg rests casually on the armrest, the other firmly planted on the ground, claiming his space with absolute authority. In his right hand, he grips a black blade crackling with blue lightning, its edge humming with restrained fury. His left arm hangs loosely over the throne’s side, fingers glowing faintly with a golden aura—an unspoken command to the world to bow. His face is half-lit, half-consumed by shadow. From his eyes radiates a subtle golden glow, piercing the darkness like divine fire. The aura bursts from within him— Streams of golden and azure light ripple outward, swirling like a storm made of purity and power. Tiny motes of light float in the air, orbiting him like loyal stars. The pressure of his presence is so intense, the very stone floor beneath the throne cracks under its weight. Behind him, his shadow stretches massive across the throne wall, merging heaven and hell into one unstoppable figure.