Chapter 10 Part 1

Jasyn and Beerwolf, united against Ralgormath, become a whirlwind of unrelenting assaults. The battlefield trembles as they unleash a barrage of attacks.

Jasyn charges forward with incredible speed, his greatsword cutting through the air in a series of quick strikes. He combines precision and strength, aiming for Ralgormath's vulnerable spots with each swing. The resounding impact of metal against metal echoes through the battlefield.

Ralgormath is struggling to find an opening, losing that confidence he once had. Beerwolf's mere presence reinvigorated his king to keep up the fight. To be a distraction.

Beerwolf, his hellish flames burning bright, encompasses himself with his Helfire. He leaps into the fray, his claws tearing through the air. With each swipe, flames trail in his wake, leaving behind a slew of destruction.

Ralgormath attempts to dodge the continuous assault, but Beerwolf's agility and relentless pursuit make evasion nearly impossible. Burning, scorched flesh let out a piercing roar from Ralgormath as Beerwolf's claws cut through the demon's flesh with relative ease.

But demons are not so weak that scratches, or even missing organs slow them down. Their twisted creator made sure that their bodies were as durable as possible. Their head could be removed, but the body would move as if nothing happened.

"You're going to have to do better than that little wolf slave." Ralgormath teases.

"How did you?" Beerwolf asks bewilderedly.

"I've been watching the Young King from afar for a while. It wasn't hard to understand that you willingly gave yourself up for slavery." Ralgormath Points his blade at the Wolfman. "He owns you." Ralgormath's chest rises in a silent chuckle. "And when he fulfils his destiny; becoming the Demon King, You'll have no choice but to follow him. I'll enjoy watching your tortured face as you serve a demon for the rest of your miserable life."

Beerwolf falters in his resolve. It takes Jasyn to yell at him to snap him out of the fantasy.

"We will make sure that never happens." Jasyn roars.

"I will protect my king at all costs, even if that means I die in the process." Beerwolf declares.

With newfound determination, Jasyn and Beerwolf charge at Ralgormath, their weapons gleaming in the dim light. They move in perfect synchrony, their attacks coordinated to keep the demon off balance. Jasyn swings his sword with calculated precision, aiming for Ralgormath's exposed flank, while Beerwolf leaps forward, his claws slashing through the air.

Ralgormath, though momentarily surprised by their renewed vigour, quickly regains his composure. He parries Jasyn's strikes with his own wicked blade, the clash of metal reverberating through the battlefield. With a swift motion, Ralgormath sends Jasyn stumbling backward, narrowly avoiding a lethal blow.

Beerwolf lunges at Ralgormath, his teeth bared in a feral snarl. But the demon's reflexes are lightning-fast, and he sidesteps the attack, delivering a punishing kick to Beerwolf's side. The Hellhound is sent sprawling, his vision blurred from the impact.

Ralgormath approaches Beerwolf, taunting him with a cruel smile. "Is that the best you can do, wolf slave? Pathetic."

Gritting his teeth through the pain, Beerwolf pushes himself up, refusing to be defeated. "You underestimate me, demon. I fight for more than just servitude. I fight for the love, loyalty, and freedom of our king."

Jasyn, rallying beside Beerwolf, channels his inner strength. With a fierce battle cry, he charges at Ralgormath once again, his sword slashing through the air with unyielding determination. Together, they create a relentless assault, forcing the demon to retreat step by step.

Ralgormath's confidence wavers as the combined might of Jasyn and Beerwolf proves to be a formidable force. His taunting facade cracks under the weight of their resolve. Fueled by their devotion to their king, they push forward, their attacks becoming more relentless and precise.

Seeing an opening, Jasyn unleashes a barrage of strikes, each blow aimed to weaken Ralgormath's defences. Beerwolf, sensing his opportunity, darts in with lightning speed, sinking his fangs deep into the demon's leg.

A howl of pain erupts from Ralgormath's lips as he struggles to shake Beerwolf off. With a final burst of strength, Jasyn delivers a powerful blow, severing one of the demon's wings. Ralgormath crashes to the ground, his power diminished and his arrogance shattered.

Gasping for breath, Ralgormath glares at them with a mix of fury and disbelief. "This... this cannot be."

Jasyn and Beerwolf stand tall, their chests heaving with exhaustion, but their spirits unyielding. "We will always protect our king," Jasyn declares, his voice echoing with conviction. "No matter the cost."

As Ralgormath writhes in pain, his dark aura dissipating, Jasyn and Beerwolf remain steadfast, their eyes never leaving their fallen enemy. Their bond, forged through love and loyalty, has proven unbreakable. And as long as their king stands, they will continue to fight, their determination unwavering in the face of any adversary that dares to threaten their kingdom.

Jasyn spits on the demon's newly rotting corpse. "No-one threatens my beloved and lives."

(Narrator) Phew. I think I'm all sophisticated out.

Christopher breathes a sigh of relief, feeling Ralgormath's demonic presence dissipate from the air.

"The biggest problem of the battle has been resolved. The rest should be mopped up very soon."

(Dime) 7% of the golems have either run out of power, or have had their cores destroyed sir.

"That's not ideal." Christopher says, staring off into the town on fire.

(Dime) There is some good news however. 83% of the demon battalion has been eradicated. Most of the remaining forces are retreating back across the ocean. The biggest problem now is the potential new disease and death that these foul abominations have spread across the town.

"As soon as the rest of the demon scum leave I should be able to purify the land." Christopher says.

"Your Majesty. You have already done enough, I cannot ask you to spend any more resources here." Duke Sigurd Gardisson pleads.

"If the town is not purified, your citizens will not be able to re enter their homes without being ravaged by disease. It is in my best interest to help." Christopher states.

"How very gratuitous, Your Highness. How could I ever repay you?" The duke asks, bowing his head in thanks.

Christopher gives him a coy smile. "I'm sure we can figure something out."

"I simply cannot accept those terms, Your Highness!" Duke Sigurd bellows, slamming his hands on the table between them.

"*Sigh* Why not? This is a very generous offer I am making." Christopher counters.

The Duke stands there in silence, presumably not thinking of a reason.

"*Cough* If I may, Master." Beerwolf interjects. "I may not be knowledgeable in political matters, but I used to handle my villages' finances, negotiation is something I'm well versed in."

"Right, I remember you mentioning this before." Christopher recollects.

"I could handle this for you, Sir. It would be the utmost honour." Beerwolf bows, performing the Loreafanian salute to perfection.

"If you insist. Work with Dime to figure something out." Christopher says, shuffling to the make room on the chaise longue.

"I believe My King's costs are too little. Am I correct?" The Duke relaxes and nods as he sits in his office chair. "Then how about a campaign around your provinces to promote Loreafan as a prominent visitation destination? It would be very easy for you, like His Majesty wants, but also a suitable enough reward for the cleansing."

The Duke holds his chin in thought. Weighing out his options. "Hmm, I suppose that would be sufficient. But I would also like one last thing from you, if I may."

"I assume it's something both of our nations would take advantage of?" Christopher guesses.

"Indeed. I would like to establish trade between my territory and your nation. I would think your country is still very small, so I worry about what we could have to trade?" The Duke presumes.

"On the contrary, we are constantly expanding our production of our crops. We also have a staggering surplus of Wyvern feathers. However I'm not sure how willing My Master is in trading those." Beerwolf looks up in thought.

(Dime) We also have a surplus of livestock and fabrics. So we could also trade in animal produce. And the silk, satin, and cotton we produce.

Christopher sighs. "I'll just leave it to the three of you. I trust the two of you to work out a trade deal with Duke Sigurd that will benefit everyone."

"I won't disappoint." Beerwolf assures.

"I hope you don't. You've become a fine attendant. I would hate to see you fumble now." Christopher says. A blank expression on his face. He stands, as gracefully as he could. Beerwolf doesn't falter against the lingering doubt of his master.

Jasyn offers his arm to him, still clad in his armour. "Let us be off then, Snugglebug."

"Seriously? So embarrassing." Christopher takes his arm and Christopher uses a teleportation spell to take them back to their carriage.