Domine stood rigid, arms crossed over his massive chest, his three eyes fixed in a hard, unblinking glare on the two Demon Lords kneeling before him. The air beside the portal thrummed with residual power, but the only thing louder than the hum was the weight of his anger as the last of their report faded. "And after all of that," he said, his voice low and edged, "you both retreated?"
Armada flinched first. Now back in his normal human form—having transformed back after leaping into the air—he kept his gaze pinned to the floor. "Boss… we couldn't do anything to them, and I thought Arkanis died or something. And I'm weaker than him, so if I couldn't even beat one of them, right? I wasn't winning against both of them." His shoulders were drawn tight, his stance small as he tried to brace himself under Domine's stare.
"What he says is true," Arkanis added, and unlike Armada, he met Domine's eyes directly. "She was a goddess. Even my astral magic couldn't harm her at all. Neither of us had the ability to challenge her—not even if we managed to defeat the one wearing the skull mask."
"And that's a big if," Armada muttered quickly, seizing the chance to justify himself. "It felt like that skull mask guy knew everything I was going to do before I even moved."
"He was most likely using some form of time magic, Lord Domine," Arkanis said, his tone controlled but edged with reluctance. His grip on his staff tightened just slightly—an involuntary flicker of unease at the memory of Sarandel's warning. "These two were not enemies we could face unprepared."
A low grunt rumbled from deep in Domine's chest, irritation pulling at the sharp planes of his face. His tail flicked once against the stone. "I will accept your failures—this time." His voice cracked through the chamber like a warning strike. "But do not fail me again."
He turned his back on them and stared toward the swirling portal, the glow washing harsh light across his armor-like plates. Behind him, both Demon Lords bowed low.
"Thank you for your kindness, Lord Domine," Arkanis said, voice steady.
Armada bobbed his head. "Yeah… thanks, boss."
Domine's hands tightened around his own bicep, the shadow-ridge plates flexing with the motion. *If this goes on, I'll have to call 'him' early,* he thought, the idea souring his mood even further. Relying on him at this stage was infuriating. *As long as the other fronts are going well, I might not have to call 'him' in too early.*
---
The black knight moved with precise, relentless efficiency, cutting down demons one after another. His shadow magic dragged at their movements, slowing them just enough for his shadow clone to strike in perfect tandem with him. By his count, he had already cut through forty-eight imps, seventeen drakoraths, thirty-four cherubs, and eleven sharaykthuns—yet the horde still poured in from the tree line without pause. Lennix, meanwhile, had far less trouble. These nameless, hornless demons—even the sharper, more tactical sharaykthuns—were nothing special to a vampire of his caliber. He had lost track of how many he'd slaughtered. Dozens? Hundreds? Too many to bother counting. "They just keep coming!" he shouted over the chaos.
"I really want to make a joke about what you just said, but I'm trying to focus," the black knight called back, catching a drakorath's blade on his shadow greatsword and cleaving the creature cleanly in half. "How are the guards doing?"
Lennix knocked an imp aside with a casual kick so hard its body ruptured in a spray of gore. Only then did he glance back toward the line of guards. They were struggling greatly—none of them dead only because he and the black knight repeatedly stepped in—but they were clearly outmatched by the nonstop wave of demons flooding from the surrounding woods. "They're doing as well as you'd expect from a bunch of guards trained to catch thieves and fend off the occasional bandit and not a demon army!" Lennix shouted back.
A bolt of mana streaked past his head and exploded through a cherub's porcelain-like body.
"So really poorly is what you're trying to say?" Darek called from the rooftop he'd stationed himself on. He stood relaxed, one hand raised, the finger he used to fire his spells extended. He was fine—not even exerting himself. These demons posed no threat to him.
But then, abruptly, every demon on the field froze.
The sudden stillness sent a ripple of confusion through the defenders. The guards sagged with relief, several stumbling back to catch their breath. Lennix narrowed his eyes. "What is happening?"
"I don't know," the black knight replied, shaking his head, "but I doubt it's anything good."
Footsteps sounded from the forest—deliberate, unhurried.
All three of them turned toward the sound just as two figures stepped out from between the trees. One was the demon knight they had seen before, the one who warned them to leave and prepare after they discovered the portal. He looked exactly the same as before: black plate armor covering him head to toe, a longsword at his hip, a kite shield strapped across his back.
The second figure made all three of them stare.
A woman—tall, but not overly so, somewhere around five-ten—walked beside him. Her bleach-blonde hair fell to her waist, her build athletic and lithe. But it was her clothing that made them hesitate. She wore a fitted white suit jacket draped over her shoulders, a red dress shirt beneath it, black dress pants, polished dress shoes, and purple sunglasses perched over her eyes.
"Well, well, well," she said in a smooth, casual tone. "My little demons struggling so much with taking over a simple village… I was wondering why that was happening. And it looks like I've found the issue—or issues, I should say." She gestured lightly toward the black knight, Lennix, and Darek.
Then she did a short, playful hop and swept into an exaggerated, theatrical bow. "I am Velastra. Demon Lord—or Lady, if you want to be really formal."
At that, the black knight and Lennix both went rigid. Darek's eyes narrowed sharply.
Velastra straightened and pointed back and forth between the three of them. "Eeny, meeny, miny, moe. Catch a tiger by the toe. If he hollers, let him go. Eeny, meeny, miny, moe." Her finger landed on Lennix. "I'll be dealing with you. Knight, you can take the black knight over there. Have a proper knightly duel," she said as she began walking toward Lennix with casual confidence.
The demon knight nodded once. "As you say, Lady Velastra." He drew his sword, shield sliding off his back into his hand.
And just like that, both the black knight and Lennix found themselves forced into duels neither of them wanted.