[CW: Blood]
"Care to help?" asked Tahgaryn, struggling to keep the mighty king contained within his magic.
Snapping out of their daze, the rebels immediately rushed forward. Large, chunky chains infused with a magic neutralizing agent in hand, they got as far as clamping a shackle on one of the king's feet before the king finally exploded his magic outwards, thrusting back everyone who stood near. Chain still on his left foot, the king slowly positioned himself to stand, a menacing aura permeating around him.
When his eyes caught glance of Vrona's briefly, they twitched. Only a single step forward and the rebels stood between them, charging attacks one after the other.
However, when shards shaped like a scatter of magic flew towards him, the king positioned both his hands forward. As if he had taken control of the magic directed his way, he moved his hands closer to him, mimicking the movement of the shards. Stepping behind, he twisted the magic and his body, redirecting it to members of the rebels who had tried to charge in from his left. Blood splattered in a blink as the shards pierced through armor and exposed skin. Marks and scars made in an instant.
Another reason the king was deemed formidable. His magic was so magnanimous, he was able to overtake control of the magic from weaker demons. It was a skill the king rarely used— as he had no need. He was powerful even without.
However, the king right now had a blazing fury and impatience, the kind that was silent, deadly. Eyes which burned fire towards a goal, with no intent of letting anything around stop.
Despite magic seeming futile, the demons attacked with magic nonetheless. Arrows, spears, swords, weapons conjured of magic splicing the air towards their target, all blocked or rebounded back. Some successes in dodging, some not quite.
Physical weapons were also used, but they seemed like feathers against the king's magic, now even greater. His magic crushed the weapons on impact. Spells were useless as spells were effective only if one could get close. However, no one could approach the king close at all as a dense air of magic surrounded him.
As the time passed, the poison in his body weaned, and his magic only grew stronger. Gradually, the numbers lessened, injured demons and the gagging scent of metal saturated the space.
Finally, out of nowhere, a large sum of dark magic blasted at the king's side, quick, unnoticed. Flinging the direction of, the king managed to keep his footing and swerve, his long hair and the edge of his cape flying against the force of the movement.
Looking at his opponent, the king took a breath in. "I knew you were the better heir, Tahgaryn."
Immediately, the second son's face drooped and cringed as if greatly weary from just the thought. "Please, spare me. That's the last thing I wish to be."
Tahgaryn's magic leaned towards defensive qualities. Being brutal, aggressive, attacking— was not his strong suit, unlike the king's. The young heir put forwards walls upon walls, blocking the king's attacks. At times, he moved his palms forwards and pushed the walls, blasting them against the king at his attempt of offensive magic. Magic shackles that clasped around the king's wrists and ankles shattered against the king's own magic.
The king conjured a large spear and threw it at Tahgaryn's arm in a flash. Despite the abnormal speed, Tahgaryn quickly dodged. Avoiding sources of pain was another of this demon's specialty, for pain was also an inconvenience. Sometimes he wondered how he ever bore through his own self testing.
Chain still dragging, clacking against the floor along his left foot, the king took a step and another closer to the young prince, spears and shards or purple and black in the prince's direction. Arrows and magic orbs targeting around the king by the other rebels continued, but at this point of the king's magic, their attacks barely went noticed.
An instance in the king's noisy step, his eye caught hold the sight of a certain demoness. With his eyes widening briefly, he suddenly blasted energy all throughout the room, instantly throwing back the demons. The second prince barely escaped a fall by his strong purple dome of defense surrounding him.
Thick, muddy purple fog with black streaks filled the room, all the demons encapsulated, unable to lift their heads. The rebels couldn't help but freeze within the fog, shivering with goosebumps, an instinctual fear that they were prey.
Dominating the chamber with his magic, the heavy shackle on the king's foot turned to become the only sound echoing the room. Only one being remained unaffected by the king's magic dominance, the only demon without a speck of magic in the room. The only other being standing upright, unfazed, to whom the king eased the gap with.
"Vrona," the king muttered in a deep voice before—
SLAP!
The king, despite his head turned to the side with a red patch on his cheek, did not seem to seethe with anger at the action. Instead, he eased his head back to face Vrona again to only be met with another piercing slap. A streak of blood glimmered from a cut by the demoness's nail on the king's smooth skin.
As a third slap made its way towards the king's face, this time, the demoness's wrist was caught on the way, stopping her from impact. The two demons stood still in a stare. Despite the demoness's seeming composure, one could not fool the hateful glint within the her focused pupils.
Strong emotions flooded Vrona's mind, her brain resurfacing the clawing feeling that burrowed within her gut the moment the king took her wings, the moment the king caged her. Memories distant, her body still remembered. How had she been fooled that he had ever been a decent man?
"Vrona," the king called again, waiting a moment to be sure he had her attention. "I have been looking for you."
Silence.
"Come back to me."
Silence.
"We could do this peacefully or forcefully, Vrona. I would prefer the former. If you return to my side, I will spare the lives of everyone in this room."
Vrona looked around, noticing the demons on the floor, blood splatters on the walls. The demons tending to the injured unable to do so anymore with the king's terrorizing magic containing their movement. Other demons on their knees slowly losing their consciousness against the pressure prickling their skin.
If the king dared to, he could easily expend and tighten his now fully attained magic, and by doing so, crush and kill everyone in his surroundings within an instant. Vrona curved her gaze back to the king, breathing heavy, watery eyes, wrinkles deep between her upturned brows. The arm within the king's grasp that once held confidence fell limp.
The king had won.
... Or so he had briefly thought.
Suddenly, the demoness's face contorted, the worried gaze just a child's act before she roared with laughter, unhinged. "You look down on us too much," Vrona smirked as she watched the small drop of blood that had gathered from the cut on the king's cheek drip off his chin.
As soon as the rich crimson caressed the floor, a bright white glowed around the size of the room, all in the shape of a circle crossed with various lines.
A spell circle.
YOU ARE READING
The Demon and the Elf (Book 1)
Fantasy[mlm] The lonely Elf had waited many years to meet his bonded mate, but reality was harsher than he would have liked when he finds out his mate is not only a Demon, but the Demon wants nothing to do with him. [Part 1/Book 1 complete. Follow the stor...
