Chapter 7.6: The War (7)

  She had a face that looked like a fairy-tale princess. The only hints that marked her as a demon were the horns sprouting from her head and the thin tail with a heart-shaped tip.

  This was none other than Demon Lord Astarte’s twin sister—Demon Lord Ammit.

  “Well, looks like I arrived just in the nick of time,” Ammit said.

  “As late as always,” Astarte replied.

  “LATE? I was dealing with one of the flies that tried escaping us,” Ammit shot back.

  “Well, I’m guessing everything went well since you’re back and unharmed,” Astarte noted.

  Ammit laughed. “Of course I wasn’t troubled by a fly. But it seems it’s a different story for you.”

  “I’m doing a two-on-one fight,” Astarte said, irritation flashing across her face.

  At that moment, the otherworlders fired ice shards and flame spheres at the Demon Lords. Ammit’s erected shield blocked the attacks effortlessly.

  The otherworlders had successfully drawn the Demon Lords’ attention. Ammit gave Astarte credit for inflicting significant damage. She noticed, too, that the souls of the otherworlders were unstable. Her eyes glowed purple, and a thick purple mist began swirling around her body.

  She then activated her special ability: Soul Devourer.

  Ammit directed it toward the ice mage, sending her into a trance. Inside the ice mage’s mind, Demon Lord Ammit sat upon a throne, untouchable. No matter what the ice mage did, her attacks could not even scratch Ammit.

  Ammit appeared before her, grabbed her by the neck, and lifted her into the air.

  “Give up your pointless struggle, human,” Ammit said.

  She brought the ice mage’s face close and pressed her lips to hers in a passionate kiss. At the very moment the ice mage kissed back, she began transforming into a reddish mist—the colour of her soul, representing fire—and it flowed into Ammit’s mouth.

  “Mmmm… spicy,” Ammit murmured before disappearing.

  In the real world, the fire mage collapsed to the ground, her eyes turning completely white, signalling that her soul had been devoured. The ice mage rushed to her fallen sister, but Ammit stopped her.

  “It’s no use. Her soul is already mine,” she said.

  The ice mage’s fury erupted, chilling the air around her as icicles formed. Suddenly, claws pierced her, lifting her into the air. She coughed up blood and looked back to see the polar bear standing there.

  But it was different—covered in a purple mist, its eyes glowing purple. She turned to Astarte and saw the same: purple mist enveloping her, eyes glowing. And then—she died.

  Ammit asked Astarte why she hadn’t used her new powers to fight both otherworlders at once.

  “I only use my new powers when the opponent least expects it,” Astarte replied. “Just as I did now.”

  The mist around their bodies vanished, their eyes returned to normal, and the polar bear disappeared. As they turned back toward the town, they saw the Demonic army emerging, marching toward them.

  Assuming the army had finished their work, the sisters joined them and advanced toward the next town.

  Lucifer opened his eyes, the glowing red light within them dimming.

  By now, he and his army had destroyed countless towns, large and small, with minimal losses. Kane asked about the size of the kingdom, noting that they had yet to reach the capital, their main target.

  “I don’t even know how long it will take us to get there,” Lucifer replied.

  “What’s the rush, Kane? Let’s enjoy this war, no matter how long it takes,” he added with a grin.

  Kane was surprised by how vast the Kingdom of Demacia truly was. He asked Lucifer if there wasn’t a faster way to wage this war.

  Lucifer shook his head. There was no easier path. He intended to eradicate every remnant of the kingdom and wipe Demacia from the face of the earth entirely.

  The Demonic army continued its march, trampling everything in its path. Lucifer noticed that the rate at which towns were falling had significantly increased. They were no longer facing powerful opponents in every town. The sudden ease struck him as suspicious, but he kept his thoughts to himself for the time being.

  Countless towns crumbled beneath their assault, and their defenders were slaughtered. Among the many humans who had already fallen, there was no sign that anything could stop the Demonic army.

  After a month and a half, Lucifer’s army finally reached the outskirts of the capital. They remained within the cover of the forest they had been marching through. The forest circled the entire capital but was still many miles away, leaving a wide open field between them and the city.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  Lucifer sensed the presence of four individuals moving through the forest and quickly realized that the Demon Lords had arrived at the capital. With the Demon Lords nearby, he connected to them telepathically. He asked if they had encountered any trouble along the way. They all responded that nothing noteworthy had occurred.

  Lucifer could hear the excitement in their voices, but he said nothing. Instead, he instructed them to prepare themselves.

  The capital’s front gate began to creak open, and a massive army of humans emerged, clad in magically enchanted armour. To Lucifer’s surprise, their numbers were almost as large as the demonic army’s, though they were still outmatched. Only a select few among them wore holy magic-enchanted armour, which Lucifer immediately recognized as a mark of the strongest humans present.

  On the walls of the capital, humans in white robes appeared, emanating holy magic. Lucifer deduced that they were either healers or otherworlders.

  Suddenly, a colossal energy signature surged forth, detected by Lucifer, Kane, and the Demon Lords alike. The magnitude of it stirred something in Lucifer—excitement he had not felt in a long time.

  From the capital gates, the energy revealed its source: a figure riding a horse, crowned in gold. It was the king of Demacia, flanked by a knight clad in golden armour. Lucifer had never seen this human before, but he immediately realized something impossible—the king, even in his youth, should not have survived until now.

  The human king did not stop at the frontline of his army. He continued riding forward, straight toward the demonic host, the knight in golden armour riding beside him.

  Lucifer found this intriguing as he sat upon his throne behind the enormous demonic army, observing in silence.

  The king and his knight halted midway between the two forces. The knight raised his hand, magic amplifying his voice until it carried across the battlefield.

  He demanded to speak with the leader of the demonic army.

  Kane, being Kane, stepped forward and walked through the demonic ranks until he reached the frontline. The human knight assumed Kane was the leader and asked him to confirm it.

  Kane did not answer. Instead, he twisted the question back on them and demanded they state who they were—despite the answer being obvious.

  The knight straightened his posture. He announced himself as Ronald Chester, right hand and royal protector of the king. The man behind him, he declared, was His Royal Highness, King Alexander Rothwell of Demacia.

  Kane then asked them to state their business.

  The knight replied that they wished to speak with the leader of the demons.

  Kane’s response was cold. If they believed this war could be ended with words, they should turn back immediately—before they were killed on the spot.

  The knight scowled. “Is your leader too scared to come speak with us?” he demanded, already suspecting that Kane was not the one in charge.

  Kane froze, momentarily at a loss for words. As the knight prepared to continue, a chill ran deep down his spine—a subtle but terrifying bloodlust emanating from far behind Kane.

  Kane exhaled slowly. Black wings sprouted from his back, and he soared toward the knight and the king. The knight instinctively drew his sword, ready to strike even while seated on his horse.

  Moments later, someone followed Kane from behind.

  Kane landed a few meters away, eyes cold and unwavering. He noticed the knight still gripping his sword. “Put it away… unless you truly wish to die,” he warned.

  The knight hesitated, glancing at his king. Alexander nodded, and the knight reluctantly sheathed his weapon.

  Kane drew a deep breath. “I present… the Demon King, Lucifer.”

  Lucifer appeared beside Kane, calm yet radiating an aura that seemed to crush the air itself. The king and knight froze. They had expected a monstrous fiend, but the being before them appeared entirely human—yet there was something about him that made it clear he was no ordinary man.

  Lucifer’s long black hair fell past his shoulders, framing a perfect, muscular build that resembled a Greek god. His upper body was bare, revealing countless scars that crisscrossed his chest and shoulders—marks of battles fought, yet only enhancing the perfection of his physique.

  He wore black jeans that hugged his sculpted legs—a clear sign he never skipped leg day—and polished black formal shoes that completed the ensemble. His face was striking: princely, angular, and seemingly in his mid-thirties if judged by human standards, the sharp features complementing the rest of his body flawlessly.

  But the most striking elements were his red eyes and the massive black bat wings sprouting from his back. While his appearance was almost entirely human, those wings made it abundantly clear that he was no mere man—he was a demon.

  “Silence,” said Lucifer, just before Ronald Chester could speak.

  The knight’s mouth closed mid-word, and he was unable to say anything further. The two kings—one human, one demon—now faced each other with grim expressions.

  Alexander dismounted his horse, followed by his knight, and walked toward Lucifer. Lucifer mirrored his movement, Kane at his side.

  “So… you are the Ruler of the Demons,” Alexander said cautiously. “I have to admit, you’re not what I expected.”

  “Hmmm,” Lucifer replied. “And what exactly did you expect to see?”

  “I expected… an intimidating monster,” Alexander said, his gaze sweeping over Lucifer. “Instead, you look almost human—apart from your wings and those red eyes of yours.”

  Lucifer sighed. “Well, I suppose I could apologize for disappointing your expectations… but I really don’t care. Let’s get to the point: what is it that you want?”

  Alexander took a deep breath. “I suppose you’re right. We should get straight to the point. We are enemies, after all. I propose that we end this war before any more losses occur on both sides.”

  Lucifer’s crimson eyes narrowed. “I assume your adviser already told you that ending this war with mere words is impossible. My army would not accept it—we have yet to quench our thirst for human blood, and I have yet to destroy this kingdom. Neither I nor my army would be satisfied with such an ending.”

  Alexander exhaled sharply. “Then I suppose there is nothing left to discuss. We shall meet on the battlefield, Demon King.”

  Alexander and his knight walked back toward their horses, mounted, and started heading back toward the Capital. Lucifer turned and began walking back himself, Kane following close behind.

  “Alexander,” Lucifer called, turning slightly. He pointed a finger at the human king and fired a jet-black energy beam.

  Hearing the voice, Alexander stopped and turned. The black energy beam hurtled straight toward him. He tilted his head just in time, avoiding a direct hit to the face, though the beam sliced across his cheek before continuing toward the Capital, vanishing into the distance.

  Blood trickled down Alexander’s cheek. He wiped it away and glared at Lucifer, who had spread his wings and flown back toward his army. Alexander mounted his horse and rode for the Capital, his anger now clearly visible.

  “My lord, why didn’t you just kill that human?” Kane asked, flying alongside Lucifer back to their army.

  “Hmmm… didn’t you see? I missed,” Lucifer replied casually.

  Kane shook his head. “My lord… I’ve seen you kill insects as small as flies with your eyes closed. I know you missed on purpose.”