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The Path of a Demon King: A Tale of Ambition and Revenge

In a grim and desolate world governed by ancient laws that have bound demons since the world's inception, a profound awakening stirs the previous demon King from his eternal slumber. Erupting from the depths of the underworld, his once-majestic physique is reduced to decay, his wings tattered and frayed. Fiery red eyes, burning with a threatening fury, survey the unfamiliar and disdainful new realm that unfurls before him. Yet, the demon King harbors no intentions of idle observation. His purpose is to conquer and subjugate, wielding his arcane mastery to absorb the powers of those who possess magic. His path blazes with destruction, leaving behind a trail of ruin and despair. With each victim ensnared, his powers surge to heights unimaginable, and his insatiable thirst for blood and dominion grows evermore ravenous. As the demon King's might intensifies, the boundaries between worlds begin to erode, and disgusting creatures slither through the cracks of reality. Drawn to the dark allure of the demon's malefic energy, they flock to his side, forming a ghastly legion. Their eyes glimmer with a sinister luminescence, and their claws drip with the promise of untold suffering and death. Shrouded in impenetrable darkness, the world trembles under the oppressive reign of terror. People huddle within their feeble sanctuaries, fervently praying for salvation from the demonic monarch and his unholy horde. Yet, escape proves impossible as the relentless onslaught ensues. The demon King and his minions relentlessly hunt down those who dare defy them, their powers swelling with each conquest, as the world plunges further into an abyss of everlasting dread.

Brianx_Ngo · Fantasía
Sin suficientes valoraciones
65 Chs

Chapter 26

The purple assassin vanished into a swirling vortex of smoke, dissipating instantly upon the impact of Edward's shield. Simultaneously, Edward rushed towards Aella, who lay motionless on the cold floor, her body drenched in a pool of crimson. As Edward's gaze fell upon her lifeless form, a shiver of dread coursed through his veins. Aella's vacant eyes stared back at him, their eerie roll conveying the finality of her demise. Aella's carelessness has gotten her killed.

Lalitha stood motionless, her gaze locked on Alfred with confidence. The gleaming sword hovered menacingly mere inches from her delicate face, its lethal tip quivering with restrained aggression. Alfred's body seemed frozen, his face etched with disbelief. The air around them hung heavy with silence, pregnant with the anticipation of impending danger.

A sinister smile started to curled on Lalitha's lips, her voice dripping with a chilling blend of mockery and menace. "Kekekeke, Sir Alfred," she taunted, relishing the power she held over him. "Don't you know better than to wield your weapon against a lady? Oh, you shall pay dearly for your transgression."

As the words lingered in the air, time itself seemed to stretch, elongating each passing second into an eternity. The atmosphere crackled with a almost physical tension, the area alive with an unspoken threat that hung like a shadowy specter. Sweat trickled down Alfred's forehead, his trembling hand unable to break free from the grip of fear that paralyzed him.

Lalitha's eyes narrowed, the darkness within them swallowing any trace of mercy. With an abrupt and calculated movement, she swiftly disarmed Alfred, sending the sword clattering to the ground. The metallic sound echoed through the room, serving as a chilling reminder of his vulnerability.

A sinister chuckle escaped Lalitha's lips, sending shivers down Alfred's spine. The once confident knight now stood stripped of his bravado, a mere puppet ensnared in the web of a diabolical mastermind. The balance of power had shifted, and in this deadly game, only Lalitha knew the rules.

The queen of shadow has cast a spell to freeze Alfred at the last minute before his sword reaches her, showing confidence in her control over her power and skill. She knew the knight commander is no match for her and Edward is also entangled in a battle with her subordinate which Lalitha's master Astaroth has given.

Edward's face glistened with a sheen of perspiration as he desperately battled the relentless assassin. It was as if the assassin existed outside the realm of the physical, each strike from Edward passing through the ethereal figure. The encounter was shrouded in an eerie aura of suspense, as if time itself had slowed down, heightening the intensity of the moment. Every movement Edward made seemed to be matched effortlessly by the phantom assassin, who inflicted shallow but painful cuts on Edward's trembling flesh.

Lalitha approached Edward, paying no mind to the frozen figure of Alfred. With deliberate steps, she began a chilling incantation, her voice carrying an air of sinister anticipation. "Tell me, Sir Edward, do you know the whereabouts of your dear brother?" Her words hung in the air. The witch retrieved a small bottle, clasped firmly in her hand, its contents a macabre secret. "Ah, behold! Here he lies, or rather, what remains of him," she cackled, a wicked laugh that echoed through the area.

The purple assassin lunged forward with lightning speed, his movements are as swift as a striking viper. Edward engrossed in a tense confrontation with the witch, barely had time to react. Before he could defend himself, the assassin's blade sliced through the air, severing both of his legs in a horrifyingly precise strike. Agonizing pain surged through Edward's body, overwhelming his senses and threatening to drown him in a sea of torment. Blood sprayed from his mangled limbs, painting the ground in macabre shades of red. The witch spell has given the assassin extraordinary speed.

As Edward plummeted through the air, the relentless assassin closed in, his predatory gaze fixated on his target. With a swift and deadly strike, the assassin's blade severed both of Edward's arms. Lalitha, her heart pounding, chanted another spell, her words carrying an eerie resonance. A surge of dark energy coursed through the air, engulfing Edward's broken form. The atmosphere turned suffocating as his body began to compress from the outside, his agonized screams piercing the silence. Each bone in his chest crumbled under the invisible force, his organs crushed with a sickening intensity that sent waves of terror through Edward's shattered consciousness.

The scene unfolded like a nightmare, a twisted dance between predator and prey, where the boundaries of pain and survival blurred into a surreal and horrifying reality. Edward's body writhed in excruciating torment, his senses overwhelmed by the onslaught of suffering. Desperation mingled with the acrid scent of blood, amplifying the raw terror that consumed him. Finally, he was crushed into a ball the size of a walnut.

Lalitha snatched the ball of bloody flesh and forcefully crammed it into the narrow opening of the bottle, sealing it shut. With a slow, deliberate turn, she pivoted and approached the motionless figure of Alfred. Every step echoed with a sinister weight, the air thick with anticipation. In her hand, she clutched the bottle, shaking it menacingly in front of his frozen face, taunting him with a chilling grin.

"Sir Alfred," she hissed, her voice dripping with venom, "do you long to join your loyal Knights?"

Alfred's eyes widened, fear flashing across his face as the implications sank in. He struggled against the invisible chains that bound him, and a silent scream caught in his throat. Lalitha's laughter pierced the silence, a haunting melody that resonated in the area. The bottle in her hand seemed to pulse with eerie energy, its contents a malevolent force trapped within its glass prison. She relished in the terror she had instilled, reveling in the power she held over Alfred's fate.

"I believe you possess far greater value alive, rather than reduced to mere balls of flesh. However, how about a different fate awaits you? You shall serve as my slave, Sir Alfred, your skill with the sword could prove quite advantageous for me," whispered Lalitha. Alfred stood frozen, he was unable to move due to Lalitha's spell, unable to witness the horrors unfolding behind him. He strained his ears to catch the sounds of the relentless battle that raged nearby, the clashing of swords, and the piercing cries of agony. As the cacophony reached its climax, a chilling scream tore through the air—a scream that sent shivers down Alfred's spine.

At that moment, his mind painted a vivid picture of the unimaginable horrors that had befallen Edward. Shadows danced before his eyes, their ominous presence hinting at the unspeakable fate that had transpired. Alfred's heart pounded in his chest, as fear and dread washed over him like a suffocating wave.

Alfred fought against the paralyzing grip on his speech, the malevolent spell rendering him helpless. Lalitha, with a sly grin, released the Knight Commander from her wicked enchantment. "Now, would you care to give me your answer?" she taunted.

As the spell's hold loosened, Alfred mustered his strength, swinging his clenched fists toward the witch. But in a wicked twist of fate, before his blow could land, the purple assassin materialized from the shadows above, descending upon him with a swift, calculated strike. The sharp blade cut through the air, severing Alfred's arm in a gruesome display.

A sinister smile slowly curved upon Lalitha's lips, casting an eerie glow upon her face. "Such a pity," she hissed with venom dripping from her voice. "If that's your answer, my obedient servant will ensure you meet your demise." With each word, her tone grew colder, and her eyes gleamed with malicious intent. Lalitha then turned and walked away, the echo of her chilling laughter lingering in the air. "Kill him Ezio, make sure you retrieve the blood once you are done"

Lalitha turned and walked away, a sense of purpose enveloping her. She knew her servant would complete the job. Her master had bestowed upon her the task of retrieving his power from the clutches of the dreaded goblin king. As for the unsuspecting humans in the area, they were mere pawns in her sinister game.

Meanwhile, the assassin's eyes locked on Alfred, his target. A chilling aura surrounded him as he prepared to strike. Ezio, once a man of flesh and bone, had now succumbed to a dark force. He had become a slave under the queen of shadows, his mind stripped of humanity. All that remained within him was unyielding obedience to his new mistress—a dangerous allegiance.

In an instant, the purple-clad assassin sprang into action, moving with supernatural swiftness. The air crackled with anticipation as his blade sliced through Alfred's body. Time seemed to slow as the knight commander's form was torn apart, his once heroic figure shattered into a grotesque mosaic of scattered limbs and crimson blood. A legendary knight had met his untimely demise, leaving behind a haunting testament to the ruthlessness of his assailant.