The Heavenly Demon of Terror-Chapter 306: Throne of Twilight, Oblivion

Samuel's POV

The obsidian gates parted in silence.

No creak. No groan. Just... stillness. The kind of stillness that weighed on the soul.

Roselle and I walked side by side, both cloaked in silence. Not the kind born of tension, but the kind born from understanding — from past battles, whispered confessions, and scars that never healed right.

The chamber before us shimmered with a dusky haze. Twilight clung to the walls, neither day nor night. This was Nerezza's domain — the Pale Queen of Oblivion. Widow of Realms. The one who once ruled beside Death itself.

And now she sat alone.

Her throne was carved from petrified memories — bones, dreams, and fractured timelines interwoven into a seat of solemnity. Draped in silk blacker than shadows, her skin was like ivory carved from starlight — smooth, ancient, and deathless. Her eyes were faded silver, like the last light before dusk swallows the sky.

Queen Nerezza.

"I expected only the Witch," she said. Her voice wasn't loud, but it reverberated in my chest — old, regal, tired.

Roselle bowed, one knee touching the silver-ash floor. "I come bearing more than my presence. I bring my... equal."

I raised a brow. Equal? That was rich coming from her.

Nerezza tilted her head toward me. "Harbinger of Destruction. Slayer of the Right Wing. You reek of chaos. And yet... you walk beside the Dark Sovereign like a lover."

I smirked. "That's one word for it."

Roselle shot me a sharp glance, but her lips curled slightly.

"Why are you here?" Nerezza asked.

Roselle stood, dusting her coat. "To offer alliance... and a warning."

"A warning?" Nerezza murmured.

"There's a ripple coming through the void," Roselle said. "A storm that even you won't ignore. Realms once sealed are starting to awaken. I believe... something from beyond the Forgotten Gate is watching again."

A silence thicker than the Abyss followed.

Nerezza's fingers curled slightly on her throne. "You believe I fear this?"

"No," Roselle said. "But I think you know you can't face it alone."

She gestured to me.

"He's the answer."

Nerezza turned to me, her gaze unfathomable. "And what do you seek?"

I met her eyes. "I don't care for thrones. I'm here to level the world, if necessary. If Roselle says I'm needed — then fine. I'll play along. But don't expect me to kneel."

The Queen of Oblivion smiled for the first time. It was faint. Cold. Beautiful.

"Good," she whispered. "Because I don't need another knight. I need a monster."

The pale queen's eyes bore into me like twin moons swallowed by shadow. Her gaze wasn't accusatory—no, it was calculating. She measured me like a blade's edge, testing for weakness or worth.

Roselle stepped aside, letting the air crackle between Nerezza and me.

"So," Nerezza said, voice like silk dragged over glass, "You claim to be a monster, Harbinger. Tell me—what makes you think you belong in my realm?"

I shrugged, folding my arms. "Monsters don't ask for permission. They take what they want."

A flicker of amusement danced in her eyes. "Bold. I like that. But this world is no playground for chaos. It's a kingdom built on order — on fear and discipline. What use is chaos to me?"

I smiled. "Chaos is the only constant. It burns away the lies, the order that's just a cage for weak kings."

Nerezza's silver hair shifted like a living shadow. "Roselle spoke of ripples from beyond the Forgotten Gate. Explain."

Roselle returned, voice low and sharp. "Realms sealed away by ancient wards are weakening. The balance is breaking. What sleeps beyond is stirring—something old, primal, and hungry."

Nerezza's hands tightened into fists. "You mean the Breach. The Rift. The end of all things we've struggled to contain."

"Exactly," Roselle said. "And your forces alone won't hold it."

I cut in, "So, you need a monster to do your dirty work when the gods start crying."

The queen's smile deepened. "You speak with fire, Harbinger. You will do well in my service—provided you survive."

I laughed. "Survival's never been my problem."

Nerezza's voice dropped, colder than ice. "There is one condition."

Roselle's crimson eyes flicked to me briefly, a silent warning.

"The price of your allegiance," Nerezza continued, "is not your soul. You will keep your freedom. But the loyalty of your blade belongs to me, for as long as the shadows threaten my realm."

I met her gaze squarely. "And if I refuse?"

Her smile vanished. "Then the shadows will consume you first."

Roselle's hand rested lightly on my gauntlet. "The queen's reach is long, Samuel. You know that."

I clenched my fists. "I'm no one's pawn."

"Good," Nerezza said. "Because pawns die first."

The chamber pulsed with power—raw, ancient, alive.

Roselle whispered, "This is bigger than either of us. Your fight, my fight, hers—intertwined. We either rise together, or fall alone."

I took a deep breath, eyes locked on the Pale Queen.

"Fine," I said. "I'm in. But know this — I play for keeps. Cross me, and I'll burn your kingdom to ash."

Nerezza inclined her head, regal and unreadable.

"Then we are agreed, Harbinger. Welcome to the game."

The throne room darkened, shadows swallowing the space between us.

And just like that, the war for Oblivion began.