The battlefield trembled under Daemon's unleashed fury.
Caius wiped blood from his mouth, his breathing ragged. The poisonous mist that once protected him now thinned under the weight of Daemon's growing demonic aura.
"This... wasn't supposed to happen," Caius muttered, stumbling backward.
Daemon stepped forward, Nyxtriel humming darkly in his hand. His crimson eyes burned hotter than the sun, and every footstep cracked the ground beneath him.
"You had your chance, mage," Daemon growled, his voice low and deadly. "Now it's my turn."
Caius panicked. His hands blurred as he created another barrier of poisoned vines and toxic shields, layers upon layers of defense. Enough to stop an army, he thought frantically.
But Daemon didn't stop.
SLASH!
With a single swing, Nyxtriel ripped through all the barriers like paper. The shockwave flattened trees behind Caius, blasting soldiers off their feet.
"You're—" Caius tried to cast another spell, but Daemon moved.
THWACK!
Daemon's fist slammed into Caius's jaw, sending him skidding across the blood-soaked ground like a broken doll. Bones cracked. Teeth scattered.
"Pathetic," Daemon hissed.
Caius coughed violently, greenish blood staining his robes. In pure terror, he staggered up and shouted at the king's soldiers nearby:
"Protect me! Stop him!"
The nearest twenty soldiers rushed forward, forming a human wall between Caius and Daemon, shields raised, weapons drawn.
Daemon didn't even blink.
He lifted Nyxtriel with both hands—and the blade shifted, widening, growing, its edge rippling with shadows and searing flame.
"Nyxtriel: Devouring Crescent."
With a roar, Daemon swung in a wide arc.
SWOOSH!
The air cracked. A bladed wave of pure destruction ripped forward, swallowing the soldiers in an instant. Their screams were short-lived—their bodies cut cleanly in half before they even realized what hit them.
Blood sprayed. Shields split. Armor shattered.
Twenty soldiers fell at once.
Caius screamed and tried to flee through the opening, but Daemon was already there—appearing in a blur of black mist.
Daemon grabbed the mage by the throat and slammed him into the ground so hard the earth cratered around them.
Caius clawed at Daemon's hand, gasping, eyes bulging.
"You should've run faster," Daemon whispered.
CRACK!
He threw Caius into the wall with bone-snapping force. The mage slumped, barely conscious.
Around them, the battlefield fell into stunned silence—both the king's soldiers and the duke's forces momentarily frozen by the carnage they just witnessed.
Daemon turned to the king, blood dripping from his sword.
"You're next," he said coldly.
The king's face twisted in fury.
CLANG!
The duke braced his sword and pushed it against the king's blade, teeth gritted.
"Stop staring at him, Velrick. I'm your enemy right now!"
King Velrick snarled, muscles straining as he pushed back. "You might be one rank higher than me, but I trained harder, you bastard!"
"Then face me like a man!" Elias roared.
Their swords collided again, the shockwave blasting outward and kicking up dust and broken stone.
BOOM!
The walls shook. Weaker soldiers were thrown to their knees just from the pressure.
Still—Velrick glanced past Elias, his mind distracted, watching Daemon carve through his soldiers with frightening ease.
Getting closer.
Like a reaper marching through a field of wheat.
CLANG!
"Look at me!" Elias shouted, slamming his blade against the king's once more. "Or I'll tear your heart out before he even reaches you!"
The king snapped his attention back, fury blazing in his bloodshot eyes.
He roared and swung viciously, their blades meeting again and again, each strike sounding like thunder clashing against the heavens.
"You're slipping, uncle!"velrick barked, twisting into a savage thrust at Elias's gut.
"You're still a scared boy hiding behind your title," Elias grunted, parrying and shoving velrick back two steps.
Both men panted hard, their auras colliding like two angry storms.
The king growled, veins bulging on his forehead.
"You think I need help to kill you?!"
He feinted left, then struck low, aiming to take Elias's leg.
The duke barely sidestepped, his sword whipping up to slash a shallow cut across velrick's ribs.
Splat!
Blood spattered the marble floor—but the king only smiled through the pain, eyes gleaming with madness.
"You're too old, uncle. Too slow."
"And you," Elias said coldly, "are too arrogant."
Their swords clashed again, a brutal dance of life and death.
Meanwhile—
Daemon, drenched in blood and shadows, kept advancing. Every soldier that dared block his path fell within seconds, their cries swallowed by the roar of battle.
And Velrick could feel it.
Every breath, every heartbeat—the demon king was coming for him.
The king gritted his teeth harder, rage and desperation clawing inside him.
But still—he didn't retreat.
If he fell now, it wouldn't be just his crown he lost.
It would be his life.