The demons for one were not idol at all. The events that had been taking place as a result of their actions had not been random either, everyone could tell that there was a considerable level of planning that went into it all.
In sight of that, the demon castle was not as stale at the moment. The air inside the demon throne room was suffocating, heavy, thick with an unnatural stillness. The silence was such that demanded obedience.
The Throne room was vast, clearly too much for its purpose, constructed from dark obsidian-like stone, its towering pillars stretching high into the fog of darkness above that represented the ceiling.
At the center, upon a throne carved from the same black stone, but this time mixed with a pure white stone, sat the Demon Lord, his hulking form showing the stature of a battle hardened soul.