Bound to the Demon Lord ✔️

Chapter Four

Phoebe wasn't sure how much longer she could do this. She felt like she was running in circles at this point, with the Demon Lord getting closer and closer with every step. Her legs were burned, her chest was tight, and she could barely breathe. The only thing keeping her moving were his monstrous snarls echoing through the halls, prolonging her feeble attempt to avoid the inevitable.

Tobias and Vivienne had to have escaped by now. She had managed to evade him for a while now, casting repelling spells and putting up some blockades to slow him down. But the more she ran, the more tired she grew, so the weaker her spells became. It wouldn't be much longer now... and that very thought kept her running.

For all her talk, she didn't want to die. A part of her had hoped that, in all of her running, she would have found a way out of this place. But the underground area was truly a maze, and all of the corridors and hallways had blended together the more she ran from him. She couldn't tell if it was just her own fear or black magic at work, but she was utterly lost and had nowhere to run.

She turned another corner and sprinted down the hallway. But, to her horror, instead of coming to another split hallway, she ran into large double doors. A dead end, with nowhere else to turn.

"No!" she cried, slamming her hands against it. She looked back over her shoulder, face paling when she heard the Demon Lord grow closer. This was it. She couldn't run anymore. All she could do was hide and make a final stand.

So, with no other options, she threw open one of the doors and ran inside. Then, as fast as she could, she slammed it shut before throwing up her hands against them. She closed her eyes, pouring all of her power into her hands as she casted one last barrier spell onto the door. Her last ditch effort to try and stop him. It would be for naught, but at least she could say she tried.

Her legs, exhausted and cramping, finally gave out. She sank to her knees, gulping down air into her burning lungs. The Demon Lord would find her eventually. She knew that... but she still wanted to have enough strength to put up a fight.

Still panting, Phoebe looked over her shoulder. Her heart sank when she didn't see much in the room that could help her. A dirty, torn blue carpet that stretched from the door to a small altar. There was some small, thin tapestry of flowers hung up on the walls, which were dirty and torn at the bottom. Unlit candles were scattered around the floor, along with some dusty vases and pottery across the wall.

But what brought her pause was the statue behind the altar. It was of Lady Seraphine. But it wasn't like all of the other statues she had seen of her. Lady Seraphine was always in the same pose – her head casted down with her hands held together against her chest in prayer. Her face was always shrouded by a hood, wearing a priestess robe that covered her entire body except her hands.

But this statue... The Temple would have considered it blasphemous. She wasn't wearing a robe or a hood , but a simple chiton dress that exposed her arms and shoulders. Her marble face was shown with a gentle smile carved into it. She was standing with one hand resting on her breasts with the other extending outward. Not the image of their goddess, but of a beautiful young woman.

It only made her more confused. What was a statue of Lady Seraphine doing in a demon shrine? Even if this was underground, it was still a place of worship to the Demon Lord. Why would anyone want to put a statue of her here? If the statue had portrayed her vulgarly, she almost could have understood. But the statue before her was clearly crafted with adoration, not animosity.

But her curiosity soon turned to fear when a loud thud caused her to jump. The door began to shake, the barrier pulsing with each hit. She could hear him growling and snarling on the other side. There really was nowhere left to run.