"...Lumina..."
Azazel placed his hand on the back of the humanoid he had kneeled in front of. He looked at his hand. It was now covered in deep, red blood from the body.
The male before him had the proportions of an average human male but was clearly reptilian. He couldn't see the coloring well, but scales were present over a large portion of his back. The scales were also scattered across the face.
Blood pooled underneath his body. The blood had the same scent as the blood splatters on the ground that had led the demon to his current position. It seemed the humanoid had a struggle of some kind and had been crawling quite a distance.
Azazel noticed a long, scaled tail hanging from his backside. It looked to be several feet in length.
The man was close to death. There was very little life remaining in his body.
Azazel raised his brow. "Are you able to explain?"
"They attacked my people." A low hiss came from the body.
"Your people?"
"The Lacerta..."
Azazel stayed with the humanoid. He tried to understand the struggle he had been through, but the reptile was having difficulties speaking. With the level of medical technology on Terra, there was no chance for his survival. Even if they were on Earth, it would prove difficult for even the most skilled surgeon to prevent his death.
But if I bite him...?
Azazel had a theory about his powers. He had been waiting to test it.
Through his observations, only humans could be changed into demons by the venom he possessed. If a being was anything other than human, the venom would simply turn them undead.
This theory came about one evening when he was observing the undead orcs. He noticed both Natasha and Celine immediately became demons, but each orc was of the undead variety.
The humanoid in front of him would give him the opportunity to put his venom to the test. Death was near, so what harm could it do?
Would he turn into a demon or an undead follower?
Azazel shook his head. He was reluctant because of the reaction he had to orc blood. He didn't look forward to another incident of extreme vomiting and nausea.
He placed two fingers on the outside of the humanoid's right wrist, below the thumb. He felt around for a pulse. He found it, but the pulse was rapidly becoming weaker. It would only be a matter of time before death came.
Azazel lowered his face toward the reptile's shoulder. He used his hand to tilt his head. Slowly, he placed his fangs against the scaly skin of the neck. With one movement, he plunged them through.
The blood tingled as it traveled down his throat. The taste wasn't as appalling as orc blood, but it wasn't exactly appealing. At best, he was indifferent to the taste.
Azazel stood up, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket. His eyes fixated on the humanoid as he waited.
Within a few moments, the reptile stood on its feet. The bleeding had stopped, but the wound from the injury that took life away remained—a huge, vertical gash through the center of the torso.
Not a demon. The theory is correct.
Azazel looked at the undead Lacerta man. He wondered to himself if it were possible to get more information out of him. The orcs weren't the best at communicating, so he didn't have high hopes that an undead of a different variety would fare any better.
"Are you able to speak?"
The reptilian man walked up to Azazel, his yellow eyes glistening. He fixed his gaze on the demon. "Master...."
Azazel felt his famous facepalming occur.
"Are you able to tell me who the Lumina are? Why did they attack you?"
The Lacerta man inched closer. Slowly, he placed his hand on Azazel's shoulder. "Master..."
This is of no use.
Azazel put his hand in the large pocket on the inside of his jacket. He took out the Bokeball. Slowly, he held it up. With one swift movement, he moved his arm up to the lacerta.
The ball opened, emitting a bright blue light. It sucked up the reptile man into its interior.
Azazel stashed the Bokeball back into his pocket. Hopefully, the Lacerta would at least be a good addition to his small undead army.
He glanced back toward the village. "Surely Granny or Emilia would know more about this."
Azazel put his earbud in his ear and turned on the song from the anime he grew up with. He thought about the Bokeball, and how it was able to hold the undead as he ventured back to Britannica.
When he returned, he hid behind a tree. The noise from the center of the village was a bit loud. He had always preferred quiet environments. He was never was big on parties, even though his ex-wife always insisted on throwing them.
Elizabeth, his wife before he died, was always inviting celebrities to the palace. She would force the staff to accommodate late-night parties on the taxpayer's dime. He wondered why he put up with it, but it was now too late to change things from the past. He had been blinded by love, not realizing her true nature before he had already met his end.
I wonder if she is still doing that as Queen. I would kick her off a mountain in a heartbeat. I should have kicked her off the Grand Canyon, when we visited years before I died.
It wasn't doing him any good to dwell on his ex-wife. It was all in the past, and he was no longer the man who made the mistake of marrying her.
Azazel narrowed his eyes on the residents of his village.
Michael was passed out in a bush behind the orc pub. It was curious to see an angel from the heavens lying in a bush. He wondered to himself if Michael had gotten into the orc ale. If he did, it was probably Emilia's doing.
Zeus and the orcs were sitting around the fire with the cats. Though undead, the orcs appeared to have a taste for the alcohol. It made Azazel wonder what exactly the vile-tasting brew contained as its main ingredient. It couldn't have been anything desirable if it turned a group of undead into raging alcoholics.
The orc gang was being rowdy. He watched as one of the orcs pulled a strand of intestine out of the wounded stomachs of his brethren. The orc popped the segment into his mouth.
The orc chewed. He chewed. He chewed some more.
Still chewing.
There isn't any way the intestines of the undead taste pleasant. Could it please stop chewing?
Azazel diverted his gaze and noticed Lucifer and Emilia had already retreated. He wasn't about to think about what they were up to. He was sure the Lord of Hell had many ways to spice up activities in the bedroom.
Azazel decided he would just go talk to Granny. He snuck past the campfire. Slowly, he made his way to the quaint cottage.
He let himself into Granny's cottage. There was a lone candle flickering on the kitchen table.
Azazel knocked on Granny's door. It was cracked open about a foot. Soft candlelight peaked through.
"Come in," he heard her voice say from behind the door.
Azazel pushed the door open. He saw Granny standing near her bed. She had a thick layer of mud caked on her face. He looked past her to see Emma seated on the bed with the same mud plastered on hers.
"Why do you have mud on your face? Did you fall outside?" Azazel asked in a confused tone.
Emma patted the bed, urging him to sit down beside her. "It's a mud mask. It's good for exfoliating the skin."
I heard of face masks, but it looks like they literally smeared wet mud on their faces.
Azazel nodded and took a seat on the bed.
Emma frowned at Azazel and crossed her arms against her chest. "I was worried..."
Azazel shrugged and grinned, flashing his fangs. "Is that so, my kitten?"
Emma nodded. She slowly leaned forward and tried to hug the demon, but he pushed her away gently.
"You are going to get mud on my jacket," he laughed.
Emma frowned again. "I could just wash your jacket!"
Emma noticed a strange scent in the air. She sniffed the air in Azazel's direction. She recoiled and shook her head at him. "Actually, I'm glad I didn't hug you."
She raised her hand and pointed in his direction. "Azzy, you smell terrible again."
Azazel looked at her and raised his brow. "I guess you will need to wash my jacket after all, kitten."
Granny smiled and sat beside him, facing in the direction of the much younger pair.
"Where have you been?" Granny asked as Emma sniffed the demon.
Azazel folded his arms against his chest. He was trying to figure out how to explain finding a nearly dead body. "I saw a trail of blood and followed it, so that's why I was gone for a while."
Granny tilted her head, curious about his find. "And?"
Azazel looked at Granny. "I followed. I found a guy dying. He said he was a Lacerta."
Granny's eyes widened at the revelation. There was obviously something she knew about the race of the people he mentioned.
Emma's eyes were glistening with excitement. "It's not often the Lacerta travel away from their caves. I wonder what could have possibly injured a Lacerta."
Azazel shrugged. "Do the two of you know something about his kind?"
Emma tilted her head and adjusted her position on the bed. "They live in a huge cave system, but nobody in the in the topsoil seems to know how to make it there."
Azazel frowned and looked at Granny.
The old woman nodded her head, then leaned forward, her eyes widening. "They have been living in the caves for years. Their whole world underground is self-sustaining, and they are said to be more advanced than we are, but they refuse to share their knowledge with the outside world."
"So, nobody knows how to get there, and they are reclusive." Azazel stated, a tinge of defeat in his voice.
He began thinking about how the Lacerta man even made it out of the cave system. Surely the entrance couldn't be far from the location where he died.
Azazel brushed his right horn. He spoke again. "What about the Lumina?"
Emma looked at Azazel. "The Lumina worship the Holy Prophet, Luna."
Azazel scratched his head. The information didn't reveal anything.
"They hate the Lacerta," Granny chimed in.
"Why?" Azazel furrowed his brow.
"The Lacerta killed the Holy Prophet." Granny looked serious as she spoke.
Azazel shook his head. "And...?"
"And nothing," Granny said. "The only thing I know is that the Lumina have been out for Lacerta blood."
Azazel brought his hand to his chin. Minor brain activity ignited as he thought about the information he had. It wasn't much, but it was a start.
It wasn't as if he were bound to go help the Lacerta, but when he saw the man on the ground with blood pooled underneath, it ignited a sort of king-like duty to help the weak.
I am a demon now. I shouldn't try to nobly come to the aid of Lacerta. Besides, I know so little. I don't want to make the wrong decision. I have made too many wrong decisions in the past.
Emma noticed Azazel deep in thought. She poked his shoulder, smiling at him.
Azazel gave Emma a half-smile when he saw her face. The mud had completely dried on her skin. He could just picture her face being red and puffy after she scrubbed off the mud.
Azazel glanced at Granny.
She will fare much worse.
"I will leave you two to your muddy sleepover," Azazel smirked as he stood up.
"Take a bath!" Emma was reminding him of how bad he stunk.
Azazel waved one hand in the air as he left.
He took a deep breath, breathing in the crisp night air. For now, he would ignore the problems between Lacerta and Lumina. It wasn't currently in his best interest to get involved.
Azazal turned his head when he heard a voice.
"Azazel! Help!"