"Demon King?! Demon King?!" Voraxa's roar echoed with fury, her eyes ablaze in crimson, blood seeping from them. "How dare you reveal yourself after all these years! How dare you abandon me! How dare you subject me to centuries of agony in your absence!

"How dare you! How dare you! How dare you! GaaAarRgh!"

Voraxa's countenance underwent a grotesque transformation. Her features shifted that defied the laws of nature. 

Her once imposing visage contorted, as if the very essence of her being rebelled against its own form. The skin on her colossal frame seemed to undulate and writhe, resembling molten wax dripping down a candle.

In a disturbing display, Voraxa's immense figure convulsed with an otherworldly intensity. It was as if the anger pulsating within her sought escape, causing her colossal form to writhe and quiver with an unsettling energy. 

The air around her thickened, charged with an ominous aura that permeated the surroundings.

Simultaneously, the vibrant and lively world around her succumbed to a malevolent metamorphosis. The once delightful banquet of food, so tantalizingly aromatic, transformed into a tableau of decay. 

The succulent aromas twisted into a nauseating stench, a vile manifestation of the corruption that now tainted everything it touched.

The ambient light, once bright and warm, metamorphosed into an oppressive darkness that seemed to absorb all radiance. 

Shadows deepened, and the vibrant colors of the surroundings mutated into muted, sickly tones, as if the very essence of life recoiled from the monstrous transformation occurring before it.

As Voraxa continued her transformation, her towering figure morphed into a nightmarish spectacle. Multiple grotesque horns sprouted from her skull, contorted and jagged, creating a sinister crown that accentuated the monstrous transformation. 

Her colossal form seemed to be comprised of living mouths, each lined with razor-sharp teeth that gnashed in a cacophony of ominous hunger.

The air resonated with guttural growls and the unsettling symphony of her monstrous maws, created an atmosphere of dread that permeated in every corner of the room.

Voraxa was now a towering monstrosity, and stood as a harrowing embodiment of hunger and anger, her very presence an affront to the natural order.

"Demon King! Demon King!" Voraxa shouted, her voice angry with suffering and a tinge of sadness and longing. 

Long ago, in the heart of a destitute village, Voraxa came into the world as a fragile beacon amidst the pervasive poverty. 

Born to parents trapped in the merciless clutches of scarcity, she faced a harsh reality from the moment her eyes beheld the meager surroundings that would become her home.

Her parents, grappling with the bitter truth that they couldn't afford to nourish another hungry mouth, made the heart-wrenching decision to abandon her. 

Left to fend for herself, Voraxa witnessed not only her parents' departure but also the slow demise of the village that cradled her infancy.

As the villagers succumbed to the tightening grip of famine, Voraxa, too, withered away in the cruel embrace of hunger. 

The once-thriving community became a ghostly picture of despair, each skeletal structure echoing the collective suffering etched into the landscape.

In the throes of desperation, on the precipice of her own demise, Voraxa encountered an unexpected savior. 

A demon materialized before her, his hand outstretched in a gesture both curious and playful. "Are you hungry?" he inquired, his voice resonating mischief and glee. 

This was the first meeting with Azazel, a demon with obsidian-hued skin, hair as white as the moonlight, and eyes aglow with an unsettling shade of purple.

Azazel was not yet the formidable Demon King, Obsidian X, and extended a lifeline to the starving child. He offered her sustenance, a reprieve from the relentless pangs of hunger that had haunted her for years. 

In her innocence, she accepted his hand, unaware of the pact she unwittingly forged.

For hundreds of years, Voraxa, Azazel, and the others journeyed through the Netherworld together. 

He, a being of the dark but brighter than the sun, guided her through realms both wondrous and perilous. They formed bonds more than friends, more than sister and brother. 

Over time, as they journey towards the helm of power, they encountered myriad challenges, and Voraxa's admiration for Azazel deepened. 

The promise of a united Netherworld, free from the shackles of poverty and despair, became the shared dream that bound them together.

However, fate, ever capricious, had other plans. 

Azazel, fell victim to his own power that sought to topple the burgeoning dominion they had envisioned. The very Netherworld they aspired to reshape conspired against them.

In a cruel twist of destiny, Voraxa found herself facing the unthinkable –– she had to confront the one she loved, the one who had plucked her from the brink of death and gave her a family and home. 

Betrayal and heartbreak mingled as she, under circumstances beyond her control, became the instrument of Azazel's demise.

The echoes of her actions reverberated through the Netherworld, leaving Voraxa with a burdened heart and a realm forever changed by the absence of its once-prominent figure. 

The dream of ruling together, shaping a better Netherworld, crumbled alongside Azazel's demise.

"Demon King . . . Demon King . . . Unforgivable. You promised we'd be together! You swore you wouldn't abandon me! Lies! How could you?! How could you order us to end you?" Voraxa's cries pierced the air, a haunting lament that echoed through the desolation.

Her laughter, accompanied by tear-streaked eyes, followed the anguished wails. "But fear not . . . I've absorbed enough energy to bring you back . . . soon . . . very soon . . . you shall be reborn!" Voraxa declared, her hand tenderly caressing her swollen abdomen, a strange mix of grief and anticipation etched on her face.

"What on earth is she talking about?" Elena voiced her confusion.

"Is she giving birth?" Evie speculated.

"Who cares?! Let's end this madness! I can't endure her wailing any longer!" Lorelai asserted.

Ren, however, assumed a pensive demeanor, pondering over Voraxa's cryptic words. 

If his deductions were accurate, she claimed to have slain Obsidian X, the Demon King? 

And now, she seeks to resurrect him through the energies derived from resources? Is this the mechanism of her powers? Is this why she's draining the resources from these lands, to restore the Demon King?

More intriguingly, did the Demon King ordered his warlords to kill him?

The pressing question loomed — WHY?

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