“Tell me Imari. Do you wish to tread the path of a warrior?” Amaya asked as it sat back on its throne. It eyed its daughter, carefully judging her.

“I’d like nothing more than to study every weapon I can get my hands on. I yearn to reach the top, father.” Her long, silky black hair scraped the ground. The putrid stench of drying ichor filled the air, quelling the floral scents that were all so prevalent.

“Good. Then prove it.” The demon lord waved its hand and summoned a two dozen imps. Each with a copy of the spear that Imani had forged. “Fight them all.” A twisted smile appeared on Amaya’s face. Was it cruel to pit her against twenty-four foes? Yes. But did it matter? No, only in the crucible of battle was a warrior forged. To reach perfection, one must break themselves over and over.

Imani’s eyes widened for a second as she stood up. Her starry eyes glimmered before a crooked grin spread to her lips. Without a shred of hesitation, her spear shot forward and impaled the first imp. A pained squeal broke the air in response. A maddened cackle tore from Imari’s mouth as she yanked the spear out with a wet squelch and blood painted the grass red.

She swung the spear with reckless abandon and the tip cut through the throat of another. A pained gurgle slipped through the dying imp’s mouth as it stepped backwards. Its beautiful face was locked in a rictus of ecstasy as it fell back, choking on its own blood.

“More.” Imani whimpered as she stepped forward and swung her spear in a wide arc. Scarlet blood flung off the tip, following closely along. Her mad giggles filled the air and the sounds of flesh being pierced rang like a heavenly choir.

Amaya looked on, entertained by the sight. Yet, under that was a feeling of loss as it watched the imps die. Its heart ached slightly, but in the end, it valued the experience gained by a champion more. In the coming months, Amaya wanted to take the demon realm by storm. It wanted to break the teeth of the demons of war, and grind the demons of joy into dust. This realm, and the next, will tremble under its thedanric fury.

Imari danced around her foes, her spear flickered through the air and imps were torn apart. Every movement she made was beauty incarnate. Her hair danced on the wind, and her body flowed like water as she swung the spear. At a glance, she looked like a prodigy.

But in Amaya’s eyes, Imari still had a lot to learn. She was still sloppy, but her movements reminded the demon lord of Kal’s past. Which sent a sharp pain through the demon's heart. There was so much potential there, yet Kal’s time was cut short. Now, all that remained was a monster that held his memories. Was it its own being? Or was it Kal given a unique form?

“Enough.” The demon lord’s voice rang out like a gentle bell and wrapped sweetly around everyone.

Imari’s spear trembled slightly, and her eyes slowly focused. Surrounding her were the bodies of six imps leaking blood into the vibrant grass. Their still cooling bodies were twitching softly. The other eighteen stood there, swaying in the air, dancing to a tune that only they could hear.

Amaya was satisfied with the results of today’s gladiatorial match. Imari was indeed worthy to be a champion. She had the talent, and now, all the demon lord had to do was sharpen her. “Imari. You have proven yourself a warrior. You have talent, and I will help you realize it.” The demon lord’s voice rang out through the realm like an angelic choir.

Imps all around quivered and cries of glee reached the air, dancing in tune with their lord’s voice. “You will be my huntress. You will be my blade to cut down all those who stand before me. My spear, to thrust into the hearts of those that stand against our freedom.” As Amaya spoke, a strange power filled the air. Sparks of violet power flickered, and the sky darkened.

Energy reached out to Imari, and a tendril pressed against her forehead. “Let no blade mar your flesh. Let no magic halt you in your tracks. But feel everything a dozen times over. Your mind will race faster than any other, and your reactions will double.” The demon lord’s voice dripped like thick globules of chocolate. Power ripped through the air and filled Imari’s body with reckless abandon.

Her body stretched and veins pulsed like thrashing worms. The sounds of dozens of bones breaking filled the air, and her skin pulsed like a dying star. Infernal energy tore the air apart and crackled like lightning as it cycled around the small imp. Imari’s screams of euphoric agony filled the air as her body morphed and twisted.

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Amaya sat there and watched the entire process unfold. Its eyes flickered over her form with a voracious hunger. Rise, my child. Take your next form and face the world. Its golden eyes flickered as it carefully plotted its next action. It would need to guide her training next to craft her into a true weapon. It was a shame that she couldn’t be a leader. But she made up for it with her inborn skill.

The demon lord stood for the first time since its realm was created. Its pale flesh rippled like water, and the colorlessness brightened into a soft caramel tone. Silver hair morphed into locks of gentle brown waves. More waves of energy wafted from the demon lord as it took a single step forward.

Power rushed towards the imp as it grew taller and Imari’s form became more human-like. Tantalizing curves appeared, and its small chest grew slightly in size. The glamor that surrounded her merged with the dark flesh behind it. Her eyes shimmered like a scintillating sea and her flesh tightened.

More and more energy poured from Amaya’s form and a weakness began to spread like a miasma through it’s chest. It was starting to tax its reserve, ascending its first champion. But this was good. It would serve as a lesson for the next. Amaya waved a single hand, and the flow of power stopped.

A delighted scream of pain ripped through the air as the remaining source of energy quickly spun into a vortex that reached high into the sky. Violet shards of lightning cracked, and golden spears of light roared.

But the demon lord was not bothered in the slightest as it strutted down the winding staircase without a worry in the world. Each step was filled with grace, and rolled with a quiet majesty. Every movement was as smooth as ice and emanated perfection incarnate. By choice the demon lord chose to transform alongside its daughter.Though it was not as permanent. This was merely a stylistic choice to help her with her new form.

Its form melted like water, and its wings folded across its back before shifting into more caramel skin. Its golden eyes flickered and became a clear night sky. Handsome wasn’t the word that would describe Amaya’s current body. It was breathtaking and heart wrenching all in one. Feminine beauty radiated in waves that forced the air to the ground. Masculinity reared its head like a tiger and roared into the sky. It was mind rending in its perfection and soul taking in its beauty.

In a blink of an eye, Amaya descended the staircase as Imari’s transformation was ending. Thoroughly entertained, the demon lord walked on, eager to greet its newest creation. Until something caught its eye. It was a small lotus blossom, covered in the blood of its slain children. The pink flesh darkened into royal purple, and a mind shattering song of screams of agony and pleasure hung in the air around it like a miasma.

A twisted idea formed in the demon lord’s mind, and an evil grin was born to match. With liquid grace, Amaya reached down, and plucked it from its roots, and flicked it onto the dying vortex.

Violet energy filled the air and melted into the ground. The sky trembled slightly, and a song filled the air. A haunting melody that carried the flavor of death and the sublime agony of ceaseless pleasure. It was a song of sensual violence, sung by the sweetest of voices.

The imps cried out and danced around the ascending champion. “Praise the first born for she is perfection. Praise the eldest sister!” One cried out as it raised its clawed hands high into the air. All around, chaos broke out as the vortex ebbed out of existence.

The haunting melody dimmed in its volume, but still hung in the air, the notes twanged like a harp screaming, and hummed with the quiet backing of a violin. The voices that sang in quiet tandem hung low in the air like a buzz. Whispering and beckoning the listeners to violence and pleasure.

In the middle of it all stood a two meter tall woman. Her skin was the color of deep caramel and her body was sculpted, much like her creator. It tugged at every deep primal emotion and beckoned to be taken. Silken black hair hung in loose waves, each danced in the air to the beat of the song that played around her.

Her face was sharp yet soft, with all the allure of a seductress. It was framed by a crown of eight horns that gracefully rose into the air. Imari was a beauty unlike any other. But under the glamor was a smooth skinned demon. Its flesh was pale, with vibrant red veins bulging outwards. A jaw shaped vaguely like a human protruded out with a set of small fangs poking form in between its lips.

“Father.” Imari whimpered out. Her voice was thick like honey, and as sweet as chocolate.

“My honored firstborn.” It replied as it reached out with a smooth delicate finger, and with the gentleness of a feather, pressed it under her chin. Though she was tall, the demon lord stood even taller.

Her cherry red lips quivered, and she launched herself forward. “Thank you so much.” She choked out as she wrapped her arms around Amaya.

Its heart clenched as a strange emotion stabbed through its chest, along with a memory long since buried. A long distance past when it was human, and had a mother and a father. It froze for a second as something clicked inside of it. “Of course Imari.” The demon lord replied as it wrapped its arms around her and pulled her close. This was what Kal was lacking in his human life. What a shame that all it took was for him to become a demon to experience it.