To Be A Prince of Hell

Chapter 2: Traitor

Disclaimer and Author's Note at bottom.

Meliodas spun around, taking out six soldiers with one swing of his massive sword. He was shirtless, his white waistcoat lying on a rock outside of the ring of soldiers, where it wouldn't get dirty. His pants and armored boots, however, were covered in mud and blood. His dark eyes flashed with scarlet fire, watching his opponents' every move. He dropped low and stuck his foot out, spinning and knocking another five soldiers off their feet. Some 1,000 soldiers laid on the ground, in varying states of harm and consciousness. Only a few remained.

Meliodas gritted his teeth. "Come on! Is that all you've got, worms?!" He yelled. He was not in a good mood today–that was why he was here. To take out his annoyance on them, since he couldn't take it out on the people who deserved it. But they weren't even giving him a challenge! He thought that almost 1,500 of the Demon Clan's warriors could give him some kind of fight. But the fight wasn't even the thing making him sweat. No, that was because it was the dead middle of summer, when the Demon Realm became ridiculously hot, even for a Demon. Summer in the Demon Realm could reach upwards of 300 degrees Fahrenheit–enough to make a Giant have a heatstroke. Of course, Humans and the other Clans would expect that, this being the Underworld. But, ironically enough, winter temperatures were much colder than summer temperatures were hot.

Meliodas cut off from his musings to punch one soldier, then swung his fist to backhand another in one smooth motion. He looked out over the pitiful remaining Demons and shook his head in disgust. "Forget it," he muttered. "I'm done." With that, he unleashed a cloud of darkness that instantly knocked them out. He snarled at their weakness and whirled around to go grab his coat. "I should just forget it," he said to himself, picking it up. "It's so hot, I'd be fine without it." But then that would leave his back vulnerable–something he couldn't stand. "So on it goes." He pulled it on, but left it open, to hopefully cool him down a bit.

Meliodas tried to clean up his pants, at least a little. But that was a lost cause. He had just given up when he sensed someone behind him. Tensing, he looked over his shoulder and bit out a sharp "What?". The pink-haired Demon bowed. "I come with a message from the King." Meliodas turned. "Yes?" The Demon straightened. There was something about him that was familiar–strange, but familiar. "He says that there is a new prisoner in the Prison that needs interrogating." Meliodas smirked darkly. This was his lucky day–and the prisoner's unlucky day. A bit of torture would definitely help his temper cool.

He nodded to the other Demon. "Understood." Meliodas turned away, an unmistakable sign that he had dismissed the man. The Demon began to walk away, when Meliodas' curiosity got the best of him. "What is your name?" He asked. The Demon laughed. "Gowther." Meliodas' eyes widened and he spun around. But he was already gone. Meliodas stood there, shocked. Gowther?! He thought. But that's impossible! I...I saw Gowther cast into the Demon Prison by Father!

________________________________________________________________________________

"You would dare go against your King?!?"

A young Meliodas cowered behind the side door to the throne room. A Demon was about to die. His father, the Demon King, was enraged. Gowther the Magician, the greatest magic user in all of the Demon Realm, had gone against his King.

Gowther snorted. "I would! I have no intention of being used as part of your machinations, Tyrannus!" Hellfire began to climb up the King's throne. Gowther didn't flinch at the sign of the Demon King's rage. "BEGONE!" He thundered, pointing at him.

Gowther flew backwards, as a door to the Demon Prison opened. He screamed as he was sucked inside, the door slamming shut and vanishing.

Meliodas swallowed hard. He began to back away from the door slowly, hoping his father wouldn't notice him.