Augustus ασрянber looked down at the kneeling demon. 'Arise Baron.'
Slowly he did but kept his head lowered out of respect and fear.
Augustus glanced at the unconscious Claudina. Blood was seeping out from her clothes and into the dewy grass. 'Why is she drenched?'
"i saW sAinTs cLeAniNg wOundS wiTh waTerR," he replied.
'Clearly you were not taught well. You are to eat humans. Not help them. And if it's a Saint, you kill them. You possess them, you mutilate their loved ones wearing their skin. The Saints are our enemies. Those Celestial Heavens think we have stopped attacking them because they don't know we on purpose send more demons when one is summoned.'
'We are not the ones to blame. Only those pathetic humans point their fingers at their kind. And those Gods,' he scoffed. 'They love humans but send humans to kill their beloved creations. Hypocrites.'
He glared down at him. 'That is what makes us demons, Baron. We kill, we destroy, we hate and we are enemies with the Celestial Heavens.'
Baron didn't reply.
'...If you don't eat her then I will.' Before he could take one step Baron snapped his mouth at him and let out a long, low rumble. All of his eyes were taking in his slight movements while his ears were standing high with alertness.
Augustus gazed at him. 'Are you still hung up on salvation?'
"duChesS saId sO thEn iT muSt Be TruE."
'Humans lie more than us demons. Their greed is endless and they will do anything to reach their selfish goals. It's best to continue to see them as prey.'
"I wIlL stAy wiTh hEr. fOR tHe reSt oF mY lIfE."
Augustus' tails swished. He raised his head haughty. 'You have made your bed Baron. If you get betrayed by this human, the Void will not take you in after rejecting me for the second time.'
"duCHeSS saID i cAn aLwaYS fINd a HoME iN heR."
He paused. '...Did she, now?' He glanced behind him. Thundering footsteps approached them. Baron strayed his gaze from the demon king to the garden entrance.
Platoons of soldiers with Ezra at its head were closing in.
'She says a lot of big things with sweet words but not being able to keep them is a problem…her people will leave her if she can't protect them.' Augustus growled. '...And there's an unpleasant thing running amok among those lowly humans.'
Ezra stopped short at the front. He raised his brow. "So she can summon the high and mighty Demon king eh? She's never short of surprises, that one." He sneered. "Won't I be seen as the greatest among them?! HA!"
Augustus looked at him in deadpan. '...A bird brained fool.'
Ezra raised his hands and gestured with two of his fingers for his army to charge forward.
With their lances, their spears and swords the heavily armored knights moved, their metal shoes and cavalry echoing like thunder.
'Baron, do you believe that the human you so sorely protect can give you salvation?'
Baron looked at him before gazing at Claudina who had passed out due to her injury.
…
…There were certainly times where he wanted to eat her. To ruin her in front of the scorned Gods. To eat her fellow Saints especially the jelly like Saint with the slime body. To hear her beg for mercy as he bit into her flesh. To eat humans behind her back.
…But somehow the very thought of her getting hurt pained him greatly. A place where his covetous and greedy heart was, it pained him.
So he never acted on his impulses. He behaved in front of her and everyone near her. He protected her even when he got hurt.
And in return she would always treat him well, better than the Saints. When he was dying she had revived him using the hated blood of her hateful mother's race. She gave him food and taught him how to read and write. Compared to the weird human, Rosalinda as the duchess called her, she was very patient with his slow brain. When he broke something important to her she simply smiled and fixed it.
Not once did she ever get angry. She would get worried if he got hurt. Would defend him when the angry red Saint and the jelly Saint would propose to kill him.
To him, his duchess had become a very, very precious existence.
And he would love to kill if something happened to her.
…
"...i wiLl bE sAd iF shE dIeS," he said quietly.
'The Saintess of time has a cursed fate. Those whom she loves will die by her hands. She will be their downfall. Hence why I am asking you again; are you sure you wish to be by her side. You will die if you do so and the only way to save yourself is to kill her.'
"dUchESs wIlL mAke suRe tO saVe mE aNd i WiLl MAke suRe tO pRoteCt tHE duCHEss."
Augustus didn't move his gaze from the approaching army. 'She must be a better king than I if you are willing to go that far. Even my kin had abandoned me at the sight of danger…'
He took a step forward. 'Baron, tell this to the Saintess of time; if she wishes to fix her fate she must be determined enough to rebel against it. Against the gods. Against the Celestial Heavens.'
Then he released a deadly aura. A warning to the approaching humans. They halted, fear coursing their veins. The air was thick with tension as the army gathered in the vast garden, their banners fluttering in the wind and their armor gleaming under the moon.
The demon king opened his mouth and the words left without moving his tongue. "HUMANS, IF YOU DARE TAKE ONE MORE STEP YOU SHALL ALL PERISH HERE."
The soldiers looked at one other nervously but Ezra yelled out from behind. "Well then I command you to move forward! Kill those demons and bring that girl to me!"
With a thunderous shout the soldiers charged forward.
As the battle commenced, the mages from the army unleashed a barrage of devastating spells. Arcane energy crackled through the air, conjuring fireballs, lightning bolts, and ice storms that rained down upon the enemy lines. The barrage of spells and enchantments all were unleashed upon the Demon King. Fireballs exploded in the air, lightning crackled through the sky, arcing from soldier to soldier and gusts of wind whipped through the battlefield.
In response to the magical assault, the Demon King summoned his demonic minions, monstrous creatures born from nightmares. The ground shook as hulking beasts, towering over the soldiers, charged into the fray. The army's swordsmen, disciplined and skilled, clashed with these formidable foes. Swords clashed, shields shattered, and blood was spilled as the soldiers fought valiantly to fulfill their lord's request.
The harmonious clash of swords and the rhythmic chants of incantations echoed across the once peaceful garden to a war-torn landscape.
The demon king defied the onslaught with effortless grace. He wove his body through the onslaught of spells, dancing with an otherworldly grace that belied his monstrous form. Shadows gathered around him, forming an impenetrable shield that absorbed the onslaught of magical onslaughts. His every movement was a taunt, a challenge, his lips curled into a mocking smile as he reveled in the despair of his adversaries.
A soldier nearing the demon king threw his lance straight at what he assumed was the demon king's heart. He gave a yell of triumph before his face paled.
The Demon King, with his dark and impenetrable aura, seemed unaffected by the lance poking out from his chest. He raised his brow, the pain of the steel embedding into his hide was akin to a weak animal biting the sole of his shoes.
'If that is what they want I must give them a fight they will never forget…'
Pulling the lance out he gripped it so tightly it broke in half. From these broken pieces two behemoth creatures were formed. In their hulking pitch black armor they towered over the soldiers. White beady eyes cracked out from the shadows of their imposing horned helmets. They carried mighty claymores which they brandished with grace seemingly impossible for such monsters. These knights, their armor adorned with symbols of chaos, exuded an aura of absolute power.
They smirked, their lips curling upward in malicious delight, as they prepared to face the great army that stood before them.
The earth rumbles beneath their feet. The army braced for impact.
As the moon dipped in and out the swirling clouds, casting an eerie glow over the battlefield, the stage was set for a clash of unprecedented proportions.
The army, a force of skilled warriors and mighty mages, stood as a united front, their determination etched upon their faces. They were a symphony of strength and magic, a testament to the potential of mortals in the face of overwhelming darkness. Each soldier's eyes burned with the fire of hope, their swords glinting with the promise of victory. It was a sight that would have struck fear into the hearts of lesser beings, but the knights of the Void relished in the challenge.
With a motion of his hand, the Demon King signaled the beginning of the cataclysmic battle. Dark clouds gathered overhead, crackling with an ominous energy. Thunder roared, an echoing laughter that seemed to mock the valiant efforts of the army. The first clash of steel against steel sent sparks flying, a dazzling display of opposing forces colliding.
The army, a force of skilled warriors and mighty mages, stood as a united front, their determination etched upon their faces. They were a symphony of strength and magic, a testament to the potential of mortals in the face of overwhelming darkness. Each soldier's eyes burned with the fire of hope, their swords glinting with the promise of victory. It was a sight that would have struck fear into the hearts of lesser beings, but the knights of the Void relished in the challenge.
Blood painted the air like the hurried strokes of a frenzied painter's brush. Their claymores seem to cut through the hard armor like melted butter.
The knights moved with an otherworldly grace, their every movement imbued with supernatural speed and precision. Each swing of their swords seemed to defy logic, cutting through the air like ethereal specters. Their attacks were met with the army's counteroffensive, a torrent of magic and steel that sought to overwhelm their supernatural opponents.
But Lady Luck danced upon the battlefield.
Despite their overwhelming power, the knights of the Void found themselves tested in ways they had not anticipated. The army, their bodies scarred but their spirits unyielding, fought with a fervor born of desperation. They were warriors who knew the price of defeat, their every strike a declaration of defiance against the very essence of evil.
The clash of swords became a symphony of defiance, each strike and parry an intricate note in an epic composition. The knights, once adorned with a smirk of invincibility, now wore expressions of surprise and frustration. The battlefield itself became a canvas, splattered with the vivid hues of magic and blood, a testament to the sacrifice and resilience of the mortal soul.
The army, a reflection of humanity's collective strength, embodied the indomitable spirit that could withstand even the most malevolent of forces. The knights, once thought to be unstoppable, became symbols of hubris and overconfidence. Their defeat, in the end, was not just a physical triumph but a triumph of the human spirit over the allure of power and darkness.
As the battle reached its crescendo, the knights of the Void found themselves outnumbered and outmatched. Their smirks faded, replaced by expressions of disbelief and anger. Their weapons, once gleaming with an ethereal glow, grew dull and heavy in their hands. The great army, relentless and determined, pushed forward with a united resolve that the knights could not match.
And so, with a final swing of a sword, the knights of the Void fell. Their defeat, a poignant reminder that even the most seemingly invincible can be brought low, was etched into the annals of history. The army, their bodies weary but their hearts alight with triumph, emerged victorious.
In the aftermath, the battlefield stood as a testament to the resilience of mortals, a reminder that even in the face of omnipotent darkness, hope and unity can prevail. The smiles of victory graced the faces of the army, their eyes shining with a newfound strength. They had faced the abyss and emerged stronger, forever changed by the crucible of battle.
However their hope was short lived.
The demon king still stood in his demonic regal glory, leering, gloating their ill fated victory.
With another flick of his hands, he annihilated the front row of the soldiers in one clean swoop.
Deafening silence echoed through the battle ridden garden. Even Ezra was silent, standing at the very back, his smirk a lost relic of his face.
Then a loud scream from the human army. All together they ran forward, a scream, a cry of vengeance on their lips. Vengeance for their fallen kin, vengeance for the human race plagued by demons since the beginning of time.
The army fought valiantly, their souls burning with determination. Warriors, their swords glinting with purpose, surged forward, slashing and parrying with a fluidity born of years of training. Mages stood steadfast, weaving intricate sigils and unleashing bursts of raw magical energy. Their faces mirrored a myriad of emotions, ranging àfrom fierce determination to trembling fear, yet they remained resolute, driven by the will to protect all they held dear.
Hails of arrows rained down at the two demons. Agustus saw they were drenched in Holy water. Baron clutched Claudina, shielding her completely with his own body. As for the demon king, he stood silently. Just as they were about to hit him, an invisible force caused them to change their trajectory. Turning around they hurled back with flaming tips to the archers.
As the battle raged on, the Demon King realized the army's resilience was greater than anticipated. Their magic and combat prowess complemented each other, making them a formidable force.
'They seem to be quite keen on trying to kill me…'
With a flick of his wrist, he summoned a dark shield that effortlessly repelled the magical assaults. He retaliated with his own magic, summoning waves of shadow that swallowed entire battalions, leaving only charred remains in their wake. The ground shook as he unleashed devastating shockwaves, causing the soldiers to stumble and fall.
The sky was filled with the clash of steel and the echoes of incantations.
But the soldiers were not deterred.The army, led by their skilled commanders, fought with unwavering determination. Their mages summoned lightning bolts that streaked through the sky, incinerating demon soldiers in their path. Warriors wielding enchanted blades clashed with demonic minions, their strikes imbued with the fury of centuries of training. They fought with unwavering determination, using their magical prowess to bolster their combat skills. Wizards and sorcerers cast protective barriers, shielding their comrades from the Demon King's attacks. Warriors infused their weapons with magical energy, striking with enhanced strength and precision.
The battlefield became a chaotic dance of magic and steel. Heroes emerged from the ranks, their names whispered with reverence among the soldiers. They engaged the Demon King directly, testing their mettle against his overwhelming power. Swords clashed against his impenetrable hide, and spells were deflected by his sheer force of will.
The battlefield stretched out before them, a canvas of chaos and desperation. A symphony of steel and magic resonated through the air.
In this chaotic ballet of war, the tide of battle shifted, like the ebb and flow of a turbulent sea. There were moments when the Great Army seemed to gain the upper hand, their combined might overwhelming the Demon King. Spells surged forward, bypassing his defenses, and blades bit deep into his flesh. Hope ignited in the eyes of the soldiers, their spirits soaring as they glimpsed victory.
But the Demon King, an immortal force, could not be easily subdued. With a wicked laugh that echoed through the battlefield, he summoned forth his ancient, destructive powers. Shadows swirled around him, forming monstrous tendrils that lashed out, crushing soldiers and mages alike with an unyielding force. The air became tainted with despair, and the smiles of hope faded to expressions of anguish.
As the battle wore on, the Demon King's power grew. The Great Army, once an indomitable force, began to crumble under the weight of their losses.
As the battle raged on, it became clear that the Demon King was slowly gaining the upper hand.
Fatigue gnawed at their bodies, and their souls wavered with each fallen comrade. The Demon King, feeding on their despair, reveled in their weakening spirits, his eyes burning with a twisted pleasure.
In the final cataclysmic clash, the Demon King unleashed his full, unstoppable might. The earth shook as he summoned forth a tempest of darkness, ripping apart the very fabric of reality. The Great Army, battered and broken, could no longer withstand the cataclysmic onslaught. Their once vibrant ranks were reduced to shattered remnants, their spirits crushed beneath the overwhelming power of the Demon King.
One by one, the heroes fell before the overwhelming might of the Demon King. Their sacrifices bought precious moments for the surviving soldiers to retreat, to regroup and salvage what remained of their forces.
But the demon king didn't allow the simplest of respite. With a wave of his hands the surviving warriors all had their heads chopped off. As the heads fell down like the heads of camellia flowers, fire exploded under the headless soldiers.