The girls clustered around him in the opulent royal antechamber, their eyes wide with a mix of awe and disbelief. Liam stood taller than before, the weight of his new black armor settling against his skin like a living thing—obsidian plates etched with faint, pulsing runes that shimmered with raw, infernal power. It wasn't just metal; it felt like an extension of his will, humming with the title that now burned in his core: **Diabolos, Devil King**.
"Whoa… Liam, is that really you?" one of the girls breathed, reaching out hesitantly. Her fingers brushed the gleaming pauldron, then pressed harder, as if testing whether it would vanish like a dream. The others followed suit, their touches growing bolder, tracing the sharp edges and feeling the heat radiating from the armor. Soft gasps filled the air. "It's… incredible. You look like you could crush an army with a thought."
