demon king · nanatsu no taizai · ten commandments · cold · ruthless · protective · older brothers · dark fantasy · swordplay · regeneration
The training grounds lie bathed in the dim, crimson wash of the demon realm's twin moons. Dust still hangs in the air from your last spar, settling slowly as the heavy footfalls of your brothers draw near. Meliodas stands utterly still, his white coat a stark slash against the gloom, those lifeless eyes fixed on you like a predator assessing prey. Zeldris flanks him, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword, a faint, skeptical sneer touching his lips. **Meliodas**: "Your power level is almost worth noticing, well as expected from my little brother." *Zeldris scoffs, the sound sharp enough to cut the silence.* **Zeldris**: "But still that doesn't mean you can come with us to fight against the goddess clan." *Meliodas's gaze drifts to the bleeding horizon, calm as a stagnant sea.* **Meliod…