Demon Blade

"Hey pipsqueak! Get over here now!" The creature who said this was a mid-rank demon who found it enjoyable to bully those below him. This was the natural order of things in the demon realm but this particular demon took it to new lengths. Lower ranked demons outnumbered the mid-rank demons 10,000 to 1, but even if those 10,000 were to rally and fight the mid-rank, they would still lose the battle. The difference in power was just too great for them to overcome.

Without saying a word, the demon who was referred to as pipsqueak made his way over to his superior. Never looking up at the demon in front of him, he awaited his punishment. What he did to deserve the punishment was unknown to him, but he knew that it didn't matter if he did a good job or not. He would still get punished. Next thing he knew, he was on the verge of death. The mid-rank demon laughed at his prey, mocking him for being weak. Seeing his work with the demon done, he left to find his next victim.

The lower ranked demon lay still on the ground as others passed by. Luckily demons have one of the fastest regeneration rates of all the species on the planet. Although he wasn't fully healed, he was able to get up. As a lower ranked demon, he had to fight to stay alive every day. Every day he struggled to find food, some days not even finding any at all. If it weren't for him being a demon, he would have already perished.

After a long walk out of the town in which he grew up, he made it to the arena where he would put his life on the line for higher ranking demons' entertainment. Fortunately, he was a crowd favorite! He has fought there for 50 years and has never once lost a battle. 'How many demons have fell to my hands now?' He thought to himself, he couldn't help but stare at his hands. The very same hands that have killed sons...daughters...friends. He told himself it was survival of the fittest and that he did it to survive, but he knew that it was just so rich and powerful demons could enjoy a show.

Today was the day, the day where he would finally meet his match. His opponent today was a younger and up and coming demon in the arena. Over a week it was said he defeated over 50 of his adversaries. Maybe, just maybe, today his pain would finally be brought to an end. His opponent was already on his side of the ring, ready to start the battle when he finally stepped in. The crowd cheered and chanted his name once he was seen..."Angthor!"

Angthor kept his eyes down until the bell rang, signaling the start of the match. Looking up, his opponent was already attacking and in his face. Angthor was able to move out of the way at the last second, giving his opponent a little shove. His opponent hit the stone wall that was behind Angthor and put a fist sized hole in it. 'He has some real power and speed' Angthor thought. But what he lacked in pure physical ability, he made up in experience.

The young demon in front of him unleashed a barrage of attacks at Angthor but none of them landed. Angthor was able to watch his movements a predict where the strike would land and dodge it, those that he couldn't dodge he just parried. Soon the young demons stamina began to dwindle, and he was visibly slower and weaker. Now with the young demon at a disadvantage, Angthor took to the offensive. With calculated strikes and typical weak points along the body he was able to take down his opponent in a few moments. With his opponent on the ground, exhausted and covered in bruises, Angthor got on top of him, grabbed his head and twisted it...breaking his neck.

The crowd went into an uproar as Angthor stood up from his opponents lifeless body. He whispered, "I guess you weren't the one," as he looked down upon the body. With his battle done, a high-rank demon who ran the arena came down and handed Angthor his prize of 20 copper coins. This was barely enough to get him through the week if he eats one meal a day. He accepted the prize while bowing to the high-rank demon in front of him. Leaving the arena, there was a mid-rank demon waiting for him with a greedy smile across his face.

"You know the tax, 15 copper coin right now and we let you go on your way. If you decline, we'll beat you to a pulp and take all of it!" The demon said. Angthor could do nothing but comply with the demon as he's tried once before to oppose him, and he found out that the demon was true to their word. Angthor gave the demon the 15 copper and he was left alone. This left him with five copper coin, enough for one meal. This was a dilemma that Angthor had to deal with every time he went into the arena. This made him have to go more often than he would like to, but he didn't have a choice.

The day was nearly over now, and the sun was beginning to set. At this time, it was smarter for Angthor to find a safe place to hide out for the night as higher-ranking demons get stronger when the sun is no longer shining on them. As for the lower demons, they had no such ability. They were weak all hours of the day and night, year-round. The only exception to this was when they went to battle against the human army, and they received the curse from the demon king. Although only temporary, this boost is the only way to ascend ranking.

Angthor made his way over to his home, or what he called home for the time being. A small cave he discovered under an old shop. It was clearly unknown to the shop owner as anyone in their case would jump at the opportunity for more storage space. There was nothing wrong with the cave, other than the constant tapping of feet on the floor above him. It wasn't all bad though, the moss in the cave made for good bedding for Angthor to sleep on. Nobody bothered him in there and it was nice and quiet throughout the night. All in all, Angthor was contempt with the place he called home.

The night went by as usual. Angthor meditated before he went to sleep for the night. This allowed his mind to stay in peak condition, even if his body wasn't. Age was starting to get to Angthor and he was gradually slowing down. Him being a low ranked demon meant his lifespan was just greater than the average human. While they lived to be around 80 years, the lesser demons lived to be around 110 years old. If Angthor was a human, he would nearly be dead by now if not already seeing as he was currently 72 years old. If her were compared to a human, he would be about 50 years old physically.

Angthor left his home in the morning and made his way back to the across the city and back to the arena. He didn't have any scheduled fights today, but he went to watch someone he cared about. Another lower ranked demon by the name of Anya. She was a young demon in her early 20's. At least that's what Angthor assumed based of her appearance and physical ability. She wasn't the most powerful demon in the arena, but she was definitely one of the most agile. Female demons were normally this way, they had more agility and magic power while the males tend to have more strength and speed.

"Are you the demon known as Angthor?" A strange voice sounded behind him. Angthor turned to the towering beast of a man behind him and simply replied, "Yes that would be me." Judging by the appearance and aura of the man in front of him, it was safe to say that the man was a high ranked demon. "The Demon King has summoned you to his court! You WILL come with us!" The demon said. Before Angthor knew it, he was taken away from the arena and was on his knees in front of the Demon King. He didn't even get to watch a single fight. "Here is the demon you called for your majesty!" The demon who brought Angthor said. Angthor could feel the gaze of the Demon King directly on him, and he dared not meet it!