The sun hangs low over the jagged ridges of the Ashland horizon, painting the skies in hues of gold and rust. At the edge of the besieged village, Lucien reins in his stallion and motions for the others to halt.
"We're here," he says, hopping down with a casual stretch. "I'm going in first."
Veyra is off her mount before the words finish leaving his lips. "Absolutely not. I will not let you walk into a trap alone."
Lucien chuckles and pulls her into a side hug. "You're adorable when you're stubborn. Fine. You can come."
He tilts his head skyward. "You too, angel?"
Serenith hovers overhead, arms crossed, eyes unreadable. "I am divinely obligated to witness your shenanigans. Protection isn't part of the deal."
He grins. "So you're worried about me."
"Not even slightly."
"Not even a little bit?"
There's a pause. Then she smirks. "Maybe a tiny bit."
Before he can reply, a thunderous gust of wind kicks up behind them, dust swirling. Valgereth lands in his full draconic glory, wings folding as he crashes to the ground, the impact jarring the cracked earth.
In one claw is a large, half-charred cow.
Lucien raises a brow. "What is that?"
Val takes a huge bite out of the cow, grease dribbling down his chin. "Picked up a snack. Cattle in the north tastes better."
Everyone groans.
Veyra covers her mouth, Serenith turns away with a grimace, and Lucien pinches the bridge of his nose.
"Right. Hang back. If you hear screaming, mine, not theirs, feel free to swoop in and save the day."
Val nods, chomping through a femur with a loud crunch and groaning in culinary ecstasy.
Lucien and Veyra stride forward, Serenith floating just overhead.
As they approach, the village gates creak open. Dozens of rugged Ashlanders wait beyond. Orc mercs, mutated brigands, ex-slavers, and deserters. All stand in formation, weapons in hand.
Their eyes are vacant, eerie, glassy.
Lucien stops just outside sword range and raises a hand in a theatrical wave.
"Salutations, fine rebels! You've been cordially visited by your favorite demonic overlord."
No response.
Serenith floats down beside him, eyeing the crowd. "They're under some kind of magical influence. Enchanted or cursed."
"Damn," Lucien mutters. "Was hoping this would be a fun conversation."
They walk forward slowly, the crowd parting as they reach the village center, an open square now turned into a battlefield of tension.
Lucien cups his hands around his mouth. "Your boss around? I'd like to have a word before things get explodey."
Silence.
Then, a slow slithering sound.
The crowd parts again, and a towering lamia emerges. Scales shimmering like black opal, breasts barely contained by enchanted silk, hips swaying with every motion. Her eyes are pools of molten violet, lips painted like sin itself.
Lucien's jaw drops. "Why, hello there."
She gives a sultry smile. "Well, well. I came hoping to meet the Demon Lord himself, and here you are. Handsome, cocky, and oh-so-bendable."
Lucien flashes a grin. "Charmed. I'm sure there's a nonviolent way we can work this out. Maybe over wine?"
She laughs, a sound like bells dipped in venom. "Perhaps. But first, kneel."
Her eyes flare with magic.
A pulse of raw mental force slams into Lucien like a tidal wave. His mind hitches, his bones buzz, every sense tingles.
Then he shrugs it off.
A faint chime pulses behind his eyes.
[Mental Domination Resisted: Demonic Willpower exceeds threshold.]
He blinks, blinks again, then chuckles. "Oh sweetheart. That tickled."
The Lamia stares, visibly shaken.
Lucien takes a leisurely step forward, running a finger along his jaw. "Now, I'm new at the Demon Lord gig, but I'm fairly certain trying to brainwash me counts as a high offense."
He turns to Veyra. "What's the penalty again?"
Veyra's voice is ice. "Immediate execution, sire."
The Lamia squeals and backpedals. "Kill them!"
The mob surges forward.
Lucien sighs. "It doesn't count if they're brainwashed."
Ash tendrils explode from his back, wrapping the Lamia in an instant, hoisting her into the air. She screams and squirms, helpless.
Veyra doesn't wait.
She pulls a hilt from her back and triggers it. Steam hisses from the emitter as a massive blade bursts out, glowing red-hot. Her helmet snaps into place, black steel clanking into a deadly visor.
Lucien gasps. "Okay, that is the coolest thing I've ever seen."
A rebel lunges.
Veyra's armor surges with steam as she rockets forward and splits him cleanly in half, the blade cutting through leather and bone in a single, screaming arc.
Lucien gawks. "Holy fuck! Okay. Way cooler than I imagined."
He whips out an arm, his ash tendrils grabbing Veyra mid-air and yanking her back.
"Hey! Love the enthusiasm, babe, but try not to kill the villagers. They're enchanted."
Veyra groans. "Ugh, fine."
Her blade hisses and twists, shrinking into a heavy hammer. She smiles behind her helmet. "I'll just break a few bones, then."
Before Lucien can protest, she's gone, charging back into the fray like a steam-powered wrecking ball, hammer swings sending rebels flying across the square.
Lucien turns just in time to catch a trio of rebels lunging at him. He exhales, and a pulse of infernal fire blasts from his core, tossing them back in a heap of singed hair and smoking boots.
"See?" he mutters. "Crispy, not dead."
Together, Lucien and Veyra shred through the mob, disabling most with stylish flair and mild violence, dust and ash kicking up in choking clouds around their boots. Serenith hovers above, providing precisely zero help.
The battle turns quickly.
Then, the Lamia slips free from the tendrils.
She slithers around the chaos, eyes glowing, and locks onto Veyra.
Her voice oozes with magic. "Strong girl, fight for me."
Veyra stumbles mid-swing.
Her visor flickers.
Steam sputters.
Lucien freezes.
"Uh oh."
Veyra twitches. Her armor flares, magic erupting from her body.
Her visor retracts, revealing dazed, glowing eyes.
Serenith whistles. "Now things are getting spicy."
Lucien takes a nervous step back. "Veyra? Honey? You okay?"
She pulls her hilt free. The blade roars to life, blue flame pulsing around the edge. Then she yanks another hilt from her back. This one burns red.
Lucien blinks. "Wait, TWO swords?!"
Twin flaming greatswords flare to life in her hands.
Her breathing turns ragged, her armor steaming, sparks flying.
Lucien gulps. "That's so fucking hot. And so fucking bad."
Veyra steps toward him.
The Lamia, now behind a shattered wall, purrs. "Crush him, my darling knight."
Veyra screams and charges, twin blades trailing arcs of blue and red flame that scorch the earth behind her.
Lucien raises his hands. "Okay okay, how do I seduce my way out of this?!"
Before he can try, Valgereth strolls in from the treeline, back in his humanoid form, stomach bulging like he'd eaten his way through three taverns.
He picks his teeth with a femur. "What'd I miss?"
Lucien, dodging flaming slashes, points frantically. "SNAKE WOMAN. BRAINWASH. HOT KNIGHT. HOMICIDAL."
Val scratches his head. "Is this some kind of foreplay?"