Almontar shook off the wave of celestial energy that had spilled over from the devastating attack against the island's shield.
Being cut off from its meat puppet caused internal damage to Almontar's spirit, more so than any demon should normally take. Their race was exceptional, special from the normal dredges that inhabit the simmering lake that is Hell, as they were gifted in the way of possession.
Each and everyone of their race could control half their strength the moment their spirit entered their host, allowing them reprieve from the harrowing humiliation of scraping down to the demons who ascended to Earth before them.
Yet, for all that power, came great costs. If so ever did their hosts fall or their control over their puppet's spirit comes loose, the backlash would cripple them and, if situations were right, could extinguish their corrupted soul.
Almontar was lucky. Very lucky.
Its control over its meat puppet, although had been severed, caused no severe backlash as a demonic spell took root. The damage that the demon had mitigated traveled through the air and hit the witch with whom Almontar was partnered with.
Through its connection to the witch, Almontar could hear the erratic agony spreading through the hex slinger. And it filled Almontar with joy.
"What have you done to me?" The witch yelled telepathically, but all that answered was a deep, reverberating cackle.
Almontar played the witch's pain in its head like Muzak as it delved deeper into the island and away from the crater-filled beach that reminded the demon of its days as a Nazi soldier.
It could feel the vibration of witchy energy mixing together with the demonic ambience they had cultivated within the island, as an aerial assault began with two dozen witches rode their crooked brooms and dropped potions and spells atop unsuspecting inhabitants.
From Almontar's view, three more groups diverged from the initial army with two packs of witches heading northward and another towards the southern gates. It irked the demon as it headed southwards, being the least targeted gate and also near the home of the high-ranking servants of Dagon.
Being demonic servants that had been under Dagon's rule for centuries afforded them measures to thumb through the newer recruits. And since they were demons with no physical form, their hazing methods were inordinately physical.
More so for Almontar's kind, as they were not subjected to the bizarre side-effects of human possession. In fact, this meat puppet was its third meat puppet, and it had only been top-side for three weeks.
"Demon below!" A flying witch cackled as she drove by in a blitz, sending her companions towards Almontar.
The demon grunted, eyes swirling with dark fury. It senses the arrival of magik, but before it could bear fruit, Almontar had waved its hands and taken control of the witch's broomstick.
For a brief moment, Almontar and the witch were locked in a death grip, fighting over the broomstick's direction. The witch was clearly winning, her armored legs snaking over the broom head, but the demon had far more experience in a death battle.
The broom head immediately caught fire, startling the witch as the eccentric flames frolicked towards her feet. The diversion was enough to control the broomstick's direction and send the witch crashing down the boulder infested part of the beach.
The sounds of bones cracking against the roach-infested wet rocks were music to the demon's ears, even more so when the demon wasted energy to nourish the flames on the broom's bristles and immolate the dying witch.
Having had it fun for the day, Almontar headed due south in hopes of regrouping with other demons as, frankly, the demons could sense the island's defenders dying from the sudden invasion.
The sight that was revealed to the demons the moment it came across the southern gate of the compound had proven its thoughts correct. Although the hostile witches numbered in a dozen, their superior firepower, synergistic teamwork, and element of surprise had caused dozens of allied witches' lives.
The blustering wind billowing out of the area caused the destroyed metal gate to smash outwards, revealing a large linked warding engraved onto the paved ground that had momentarily locked four demons in place.
The crimson light illuminated their meat puppet's form and caused dark fluid to gush out of their orifices. They were being exorcized, and painfully so, as soul-deafening screams erupted out of the demon's slacked-jawed mouths.
Almontar, seized by a primal fear, stumbled back from the sight. Its once confident demeanor, one that it had used when defiling the witch, was now nowhere to be seen.
"Oh, looks like someone got out. Tsk, tsk." A cheery voice resounded behind the demon, startling Almontar as it felt a surge of magical energy envelop its meat puppet. "Let's add you in, huh?"
The witchy figure appeared before the demon, and a familiar one at that.
"G-Grand C-Coven," Recognition was evident in the demon's void eyes, rage more so. "Y-you can't get away w-with this."
Katja, Grand Witch of the Grand Coven, showed off her missing teeth. "Oh, but we already have!"
●●●●●
Henrietta cursed her luck. And she cursed that escaped prisoner, too.
If not for him, then she would not be writhing in pain on the sand and vermin-filled ground in the middle of the single largest supernatural invasion in recent history.
If not for him, then the Borrower witches with no backing would not have to be paired with newly ascended demons. She cursed how easily replaceable she was, but, frankly, the magical fire being sent up her nerves and boiling her blood was far better than her previous life.
Still, she persevered, grasping at what menial magik she had to suppress, the spell that had taken root within her nervous system. Her legs quivered as she stood up from the ground, blinking away the crimson tears in her eyes.
The invasion was well on its way, for the invaders, not for her allies. It's going terribly for them.
She placed a trembling hand within her bosom and fished out a sparkling crystal connected to a stem of roses. A communication device handed out for emergency purposes and could instantly connect to the High Priestess, or her goons.
It only needed a sliver of magik for it to turn pink and she could send a message.
She placed the crystal near her mouth as she gazed towards the situation on the island. "Northern gate is down. I repeat, the northern gate has been taken over by the enemy. Orders?"
The reply was instantaneous, startling her as it would usually need a few more messages before she could get a reply. That was what happened when the two prisoners were wreaking havoc the last time.
The crystal buzzed.
Relief swelled in her spirit, knowing that a terrifying entity was guarding the Aegis.
Her feet dragged on as she walked towards the Aegis.
As usual, the towering rock formation was as impressive as it was intimidating. Lightning streaked from one obsidian boulder to another, reminding Henrietta of the powerful old-world magik that she would never achieve in her lifetime. Maybe the next lifetime, though.
Her pants became thinner as she took control of her body, pain no longer continuously assaulting her system. It shocked her, of course, for the spell would only intensify the longer it went, not subside like it had halted after a few attempts at killing her.
There was only one event that would achieve this effect.
Henrietta chuckled. "Fucking demon's dead."
"Which demon?" A voice rang beside her.
Her body moved on its own, hands flinging to the left as magik converged upon her palms and sent a streak of dark lightning towards the unknown voice.
"Coniurare fulgur!"
The lightning hit the figure and danced around their form, emitting an exuberant energy before settling under the figure's exposed skin.
"Well, that was rude." The man with long hair said, a graceful smile on his face.
"Enough, Balthazar." A woman appeared next to the man, glaring at Henrietta. "Smite the heathen already."
Henrietta's eyes widened, her gaze went towards the guardian of the Aegis as everything clicked into place. "The invasion was a ruse… you're here for the angel."
Her mutterings amused the two, mirth crinkling in both their eyes.
"Smart one, she is." Balthazar remarked. "It'd be a shame just to kill her."
"No, it is not." Another voice rang out, one that was much deeper.
Henrietta gazed towards the dark-skinned man as the world slowed to a crawl. Her life flashed before her eyes as the man snapped his finger.
A wave of energy passed through her body. Her skin turned paler than normal before the witch crumbled into a pillar of salt.
●●●●●
As usual, no chapter tomorrow.
I don't know if I what I have created is good enough for this, but if you ever want more:
patreon.com/MillanGrimme
It's five (5) chapters ahead of this site.