Once upon a time Asdeus was born. Among the first demons he trod the lands.

He was a demon through and through, a true terror of the night.

The original thirteen demons were unlike those who followed. They were born with higher intellect, stronger bodies, and greater aspirations. They were born to rule, — to rule and conquer.

Through the years, they fought, they fed, they grew, they evolved, they learned.

However, intellect is a dangerous weapon, and soon conflict would follow. No longer did demons fight alone for their own gains, but organized groups centered around a strong individual. The hordes could count hundreds of members, however the hordes of the 13 were on a whole other level. Their aim was a simple one; to decide who is worthy to lead demon-kind.

After the first millennium something happened. Something new, something unexplainable. A gate made of fire had materialized, and soon — beings of pure white — wings and flames followed. The demons had warred in the past millennium; thus, they were divided and couldn’t put up a meaningful resistance. The new threat known as angels had slain their kin indiscriminately. Years of war between races was to come, and the angels at last were defeated and driven out of the realm.

Asdeus — one of the original thirteen, the oldest of them all, the most powerful of them all. The one who had the greatest chance of becoming the one who oversees all of demon-kind had decided to pursue them.

He passed the gate to be greeted with a realm of radiance. Everything was so pure, so simple yet so elegant that he needed a moment to comprehend the view. Stark white columns extended high up towards the heavens and countless floating fortresses adorned the scenery. He marveled at the sights that was so different from the infernal views of his home, before muttering out loud.

“Such a shame, I will raze this place to the ground.”

He would avenge their fallen kin and get his fill of slaughter in the meantime.

However, rarely things go our way. This, Asdeus learned — firsthand.

He was betrayed by his generals. However painful it may have been it would not have caused his downfall; it couldn’t have. He was strong on his own right, strong enough to take on and defeat his endless armies that stretched to the horizon.

He moved to retreat from hostile lands, however the angels smelled blood and wouldn’t allow him to escape unscathed. Golden chains shot around him to restrict his movements while several elite angel warriors descended all around him — holding flaming blades — they rushed him.

The sacred flame hurt, it hurt more than he would admit. He had a strong urge to rip them apart limb from limb, — one after another — however he was alone… He was left to die by those cowards.

Even if he managed to massacre all the angels, there was no doubt in his mind that he would be greeted with the demonic armies on the other side of the portal — ready to finish what the angels had started — however, when he returned, he was welcomed by silence and silence alone.

Gone were his armies, his generals, his comrades. He was left all alone. He felt anger boiling inside of him. How come they didn’t try to finish him off? Did they take him as a joke? Did they really think those feathered weaklings could get the better of him?! Preposterous! Grumbling, he removed the flaming blades from his side and began his march on the infernal plains.

…

He was the greatest Demon Lord on the land, but after his armies abandoned him while he was away — fighting angels — his influence had diminished. Only a select few remained loyal and they were promptly executed by those wretched traitors.

He traversed the land looking for new subjects to use in his war efforts. However, his decline spread rapidly among the populous and no one wanted to support someone who was doomed to fail.

The armies of angels were an ever-looming threat on the horizon, but the others didn’t seem to care. He had already appealed to the twelve once before to have this ascension war stop for the time being, at least until the angels were taken care of. He was so close, so close to convince them that he could almost grasp it, but then an oracle appeared, and all came crashing down on him.

Fearing the prophecy, the original demons turned on him. It was supposed to be a free for all, — a war where all fought as equals. The winner would be acknowledged by the defeated and demon-kind could march on under a single banner to banish the light. The light that caused them so much pain.

The angels — such cruel adversaries — had used underhanded tactics ever since their initial failure. Whenever the gates were left unguarded, small units of elites would sneak into the realm and massacre common demons. Thus, reducing their numbers, and overall manpower.

However, the others did not care. They were too blinded by greed and their own might. Realizing that he was considerably weakened after his armies had abandoned him, and the angels had managed to injure him, they conspired against him. They knew that those accursed blades carried sacred properties that festered inside demons if left unchecked. Thanks to their propaganda no sane demon would side with him. It was the perfect chance to remove their greatest contender for the title of One above All.

Twelve armies gathered under his fortress, his bastion. While he was on his own with only a handful of demons by his side.

He grimaced. His most loyal entourage, demons whom he spent his last millennia had betrayed him. Demons he thought would follow him to the grave if it came down to that. How unfortunate. Now, standing beside him were a couple hundred he managed to recruit in the past weeks.

They were nothing special, but he could use them. The fortress was built to be able to be manned by a small number of demons. It had various defense systems that enabled it to successfully defend against numerical superiority. After giving his orders he retreated to the inner most chamber where he could keep an eye on the battle using an ancient artifact, the Orb of All-seeing eyes.

…

The sea of demons raged outside his fortress walls. They fought ferociously, yet they could not attain victory. Millions of souls compelled by one intent, by one goal. To defeat him, to eradicate him at all costs, yet they failed to penetrate his fortress.

The effort it took to construct such a magnificent work of art was worth it.

A smile etched itself across his horrid visage as he observed the futile efforts of the twelve armies.

All who tried to fly over the walls were electrocuted by magical traps. Occasionally there were those who triggered more than one resulting in the individual group burning into a crisp.

All who tried to climb the walls had met a gruesome fate as molten magma was poured over them.

All who sought to force their way inside would meet a grisly end.

Elevated by their performance Old Asdeus rejoiced. Truly, such a shameful bunch. He felt unruly rage when he first laid eyes on the nearing armies, now he could only pity them.

“So much effort, yet so little effect. Truly, you are pathetic, every last one of you.“ He said, as he rose from his crystal throne stretching to the ceiling.

Old Asdeus left the confines of his castle that provided him with shelter for the last millennium. He would take the fight to the sea of enemies. It was entertaining to watch them suffer, but it was starting to bore him. He also knew it was only a matter of time before the twelve showed themselves. However proud he was of his fortress; it would not stay standing should the twelve engage it. He knew that well. Those fiends were the closest beings to his might in this world.

Old Asdeus was not a coward. He would not hide inside of his castle, waiting for his men to die. They might be sacrificial pawns, but it would be meaningless to lose them needlessly. He would not wait for the twelve to reach his defenses, he would not wait for his defenses to inevitably fail. He would greet them in fashion. He would show them the consequences of turning on him. They would experience firsthand what a true struggle for life and death feels like!

He spread his myriad limbs and flew to meet the siege head on.

Most demons were around 6ft height; however, the stronger ones could reach 12ft. There were also the behemoths and leviathans who were much greater, representing a class on their own. However, size was not a good indicator to one’s power. In the past he had many warriors, who could slay such beasts while being only 8ft or so. Though they are already dead or have decided to abandon him for a promise of status. What a fool they had been. He would give them a parting gift. He would show them what true power looks like!

He loomed over the battlefield, his body expanding to its true size, revealing his true form. A family of similarly colored tentacles sprouted from his back while the flapping of great fiery black wings elevated him above the ashen clouds.

He was truly massive in this form, even dwarfing the leviathans, whose hopping 50ft was already huge. In his case, his size was a good indicator to not mess with him. There was no doubt, that he would qualify as the strongest being in the infernal plane if proper measurements were taken. There was a reason why the twelve didn’t dare face him alone. Even in their infinite foolishness they were wise enough to acknowledge the undeniable difference in weight class.

He devastated the fields of the marching hordes of the twelve. The coward bunch didn’t dare face him head on even though it would have been a twelve on one. So, he went after their troops.

Seven days, seven days he decimated the armies. They say power isn’t everything, they naively state that power can be overcome by sheer numbers, however that is only because they had never experienced true overwhelming might. The undeniable truth of the matter is that absolute power conquers all. If it fails to do so, then it is only because you weren’t strong enough, there wasn’t a great enough gap between your overall powers. Then it is only natural that you are ultimately overwhelmed.

Even after all this time, Old Asdeus was still tearing through the endless ranks of demons, albeit slower. At last, the continuous rampaging was taking its toll on him, and it didn’t go unnoticed. He flew high above the battlefield, before observing the armies. There was still over a million demons gathered up into a single huge formation, waiting for him to tire out and finally be overwhelmed.

He would not allow it! He would show them what a true terror of the night is capable of!

He will show that these pathetic scheming bunch cannot stand up to true power, to true conviction!

He roared like a dragon and dived headfirst into the tight rows of soldiers. His many clawed hands ripped through armor like paper while his decaying breath rotted those unfortunate enough to be in his vicinity. His tentacles worked tirelessly, impaling, and throwing demons into panic left and right.

However, even the great demon had its limits. After storming the ranks of demons once more he felt his body straining. It has been a while since he fought such a prolonged battle. Though the enemies were of no concern to him, — provided no challenge — the unending slaughter was depleting his reserves palpably.

He was tired out to a degree where he thought it best to retreat. He would gather his strength before the next battle where he would put an end to this all. However, now they showed themselves, — the twelve traitors — the cowardly bunch ganged up on him and mercilessly beat down on his already battered, exhausted form. They gave him no breathing room, no chance to retreat.

They were traitors to him, but more importantly traitors to all of demon-kind. How could they sacrifice so many demons just to get to him? How could they turn a blind eye to the angels?! Did they fear him that much?! Has greed blinded them that much?! We are not animals dammit, then why? Why won’t they listen to reason?

It was a wholly one sided beatdown, — he stood no chance — he soon realized. He was too exhausted to continue. From the edge of his vision, he glanced at his still fighting forces, a select few dedicated warriors who desperately tried to keep the fortress free of enemy invasion. Though he didn’t know them for long he felt a sense of comradery between them.

He didn’t know then why, but an unruly fury ignited in his many hearts. His dark form shifted threateningly, — not knowing what was happening — the twelve hastily jumped back as his form exploded into a mass swirling darkness. It expanded at an unprecedented rate and covered up the battlefield. It absorbed all the demons, a count of millions on the ravaged field.

The twelve managed to get into a safe distance in time and evade the darkness. A moment later the darkness collapsed into itself, and then a fiery wave of explosion spread out in all directions decimating those lucky enough to be out of range in the previous event.

A hellish sight greeted those few who managed to survive the catastrophe. There was nothing left on the battlefield, nothing but death, and despair. The twelve stared at each other in disbelieving looks. Their bodies were noticeably scarred, however that wasn’t what took their attention. Not comprehending what the fuck just happened, they just stood there — mouth agape.

It was an unprecedented lost. Their armies amassed through a millennium was gone just like that. They were ready to suffer casualties, but this had outdone their wildest estimations. Now, they would have to spend years looking for suitable soldiers in the endless plains to replenish their tanks. Their only reprieve being that they took out Old Asdeus — they turned to leave. Finally, the threat to their rule was extinguished. There was no longer anyone around who could tip the scale in their favor by themselves. That was all that mattered.

When they turned to leave the ground started shaking. The tremors were intense, and soon they saw its origin, — the horrors of the abyss were here. They could only curse their luck as they stared at the sight in disbelief. This day couldn’t get any worse — now proved to be a wrong deduction.

Angels had committed an atrocity — they had set free the abyss creatures, brutes without ego but with monstrous strength. The twelve didn’t stay idle and launched themselves at the angels hovering in the crimson sky, however before they could get to them, the winged warriors had disappeared in a flash of light — leaving the confused bunch with the titans of the abyss.

They couldn’t fight these creatures head on, much less when they were outnumbered five to one. The twelve hastily left the sight never to return.

The titans of the abyss were old, forgotten monsters. Extremely powerful creatures who could go toe to toe with the original thirteen, however what made them truly frightening was the disparity in power.

There were individuals among their ranks who could toy with the twelve like they would do with a lesser demon. It was utter madness. It was a miracle in the first place that they had managed to seal away the monsters in the dawn of their time. Those wretched angels had found a way to break the seal. If it wasn’t plain for all to see, they wouldn’t have believed such nonsense.

In the coming years the titans of the abyss had easily decimated the common demons, reducing their numbers greatly, thus weakening demon-kind further.

The twelve would regret their actions today, as with Old Asdeus gone and their armies decimated they stood no chance against the immemorial threat. There was no one left to protect the weaker demons, and soon they would be forced to leave behind the surface and settle underground or die. They were compelled to live in the deep trenches and fissures that sliced up the world if they wished to survive.

The very air had become poisonous overtime in the presence of the ancient monsters that trod the lands without opposition for far too long. All the while Old Asdeus was nowhere to be found.

The twelve would blame all misfortunes on Old Asdeus, as well as the fall of demons from grace. They cursed his name and ordered the demolition of every single statue raised in his glory.

In hindsight it was stupid, because the titans would have done the job all the same as they roamed the lands looking for nourishment. Never sated, no matter how many demons they had devoured they marched on endlessly on the crimson plains bringing nothing but destruction and decay.

The common people were led to believe that Old Asdeus had betrayed demon-kind, and as a punishment he was exiled from the infernal plane never to return. The twelve were the sole witnesses of that day’s battle, and so everyone believed them.