Madawc led the charge, plunging headlong toward Bul-Kathos. Every Leap he executed shattered the earth upon impact, pulverizing every demon within the radius of his landing into a gory slurry of minced meat. Even the elite among them who managed to scramble away with their lives were left crippled and broken.
But such a rampage was bound to be intercepted.
"Madawc..."
A voice thick with a festering grudge rang out as a colossal monstrosity lumbered forward, blocking Madawc's path mid-leap.
"Ghom? No, you must be a Hunger?"
Madawc raised his weapon and, even as the words left his mouth, slammed it heavily into the gargantuan demon's chest. Among the demonic hosts that had laid siege to the Sacred Mountain back then, few had been Baal's direct subordinates. The true vanguard of that war had been the legions under the Lord of Sin, Azmodan.
As for this specific Hunger, it held no place in Madawc's memory. The original Hunger had long since perished in a swarm of rats thanks to Orek. This one was clearly not the same Ghom that Bul-Kathos had encountered on his journey.
"Disgusting! They even woke up a thing like you?"
Madawc cursed as he wrenched his giant axe free and took several steps back. The Hunger was wreathed in a dense, sickly miasma of toxins. Perhaps Cassius could ignore such lethal poisons and keep fighting, but Madawc didn't have that luxury. All he could do was ensure he hacked the damn thing to pieces in the shortest time possible.
After two agonizingly slow seconds, the Hunger finally opened its maw to speak:
"To think... I would see the day I met you again. I am... truly delighted."
The massive mouth on the Hunger's belly churned as if masticating something unseen. Its head, disproportionately small for its bloated frame, wobbled back and forth, seemingly unfazed by the axe wound Madawc had just delivered.
"Dead things should stay silent!"
With a twist of his torso, Madawc swung his great axe, whipping up a gale that carved through the air. Flickering embers of fury danced across his skin as power converged through the momentum of his spin.
"Dammit, Madawc! I told you—if you dared leave my sight for even a second, I'd make you pay!"
Korlic's voice boomed. His body descended like a projectile launched from a catapult, slamming directly onto the Hunger's head. The bloated demon let out a pathetic wail before exploding into a cloud of toxic filth that clung to Korlic's frame.
Ignoring the venom, Korlic stepped over the remains toward Madawc. He dragged Bastion's Power behind him, looking as though he might bring it down on Madawc's head at any moment. Korlic had warned him; repeating the mistakes of the past was nothing short of a humiliation for him. He didn't care what grand plan Madawc was cooking up.
"I'm going to go find trouble with Andariel. Whatever score we have to settle can wait until I get back!"
Madawc kicked out, his boot meeting Korlic's chest and shoving him back into the remains of the Hunger. It wasn't a particularly violent strike; Korlic simply hadn't bothered to block it. The Three Ancients knew each other too well; they understood each other's thoughts perfectly. In this moment, Korlic was merely seeing Madawc off.
Of course, the warning was real. Since Madawc said they'd settle it when he returned, Korlic would hold him to it. The trust between the Three Ancients was unbreakable.
"Shit! You'd better come back! Otherwise, I'll make sure you understand exactly what sorrow tastes like!"
Korlic shook the demon blood from his body and stood up slowly. He could only shake his head at Madawc's back. While Talic—the most stoic of the three—usually made the final calls, every strategy was ultimately devised by the Prophet.
Madawc was a Battle Prophet, but he was a Prophet nonetheless. And Prophets never lacked for wisdom.
"Stinking piece of trash, you've got a new opponent!"
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