Mythical Swords

With a wave of her hand, the secretary, now christened a demon by its transformation, materialized a polished hand mirror.

Hila snatched the mirror, his reflection staring back at him. Gone were the sharp, demonic features he'd grown accustomed to. In their place was a human face – handsome even, with strong features and a head of dark hair, no horn. His eyes, however, remained a mix of red and white, a chilling reminder of the power he wielded.

"Why… why has this happened?"

Mercy, stepped closer. "Because, Your Majesty," she began, her voice low and seductive, "humans are the pinnacle of evolution. Don't you see?"

Hila met her gaze, a mixture of confusion and dawning realization flickering in his eyes. "What are you saying?" he demanded.