MAGIC OF THE DEVIL | Bone and Blood Remix | Dark Fantasy Metal

They called it Magic of the Devil because no other name survived it.

Before the candles were lit, she was already condemned.
A Black Witch marked by exile, hunted by priests, angels, and false kings who feared what could not be chained. They said her power came from Hell. They were wrong.

It came from Bone and Blood.

In the chamber of the dead, she knelt between skulls older than scripture. Not relics. Witnesses. Every candle marked a life already taken in her name, every sigil a vow that could not be broken. The voodoo dolls were not symbols of enemies — they were anchors, binding souls to the ritual so none could escape what was coming.

She did not pray.
She did not beg.

She invoked.

The Devil did not answer with words. He answered with transformation.

Flesh hardened. Veins darkened. The witch dissolved into something colder, older, and infinitely patient. Bone became memory. Blood became law. When her eyes ignited, the ritual ended — not because it was complete, but because there was nothing left to give.

Those who came to destroy her never reached the circle.
Their gods turned silent.
Their prayers rotted in their mouths.

What remained knelt in the shadows behind her — the dead, the bound, the erased — watching as she rose not as a servant of Hell, but as its equal.

This is not corruption.
This is ascension.

This is MAGIC OF THE DEVIL.