FALLEN ANGEL: MARRIED TO THE DEMON KING
Chapter 100: THE WRATH OF THE DEMON KING(3)

Chapter 100: THE WRATH OF THE DEMON KING(3)

"Respawn?" Varziel did not recognize that word.

"This situation is getting more and more confusing." Lady Immera had a sheen of sweat dotting her forehead. Although it was clear that what she and Lady Seraphine was not doing much to stop the rift anymore, they did not stop pouring out their their incantation.

"I have to agree with you there." Lady Seraphine was in a similar state, perhaps even in a worse situation than Lady Immera who was a seasoned warrior.

"Then, for now, the most we can do is hold them back. General Nyssa, send someone to get General Lilithia here. General Thaluzar, you will be at the front with me. Lady Immera, do you want to join us at the front?"

"The rift?"

"Once General Lilithia arrives, she will work to close it. I am sure that you can join us in the fight after she arrives."

"Understood."

"Lady of Seraphine. Go into the safety of the palace after General Lilithia arrives. I apologize for leaving this task to you."

"It is alright your majesty. I may not be a warrior, but I still have a duty to protect the demon realm, seeing as I am a noble."

Varziel’s nod was grim. "Thank you for your assistance."

"Malrick, go look over the queen, ensure her healing is not hindered. Velmoria, at the front lines with me, Young Lady Darvia, protect Lady Seraphine as she and Lady Immera try to keep that rift from opening any further. After they are safe, join us at the front."

Varziel counted in his head, ensuring that he had given instructions to everyone. Then, he gave a nod.

"Let us go. No one is allowed to die. These things are not as strong as they seem to be. Although I do not understand why they do not bleed."

"It is as if they do not exist in this plane. The way they die is very odd." Lady Immera said.

"I think we can discuss this later, your majesty," Velmoria tapped on his arm, "If we do not end this soon, they may fill the palace, and the queen might be in even more danger."

Her words rang in Varziel’s mind, and he sprung into action. "Velmoria, keep in mind the words that you see. We will need to discuss this further, after the battle."

"Definitely." Velmoria agreed.

"Disperse."

Everyone went to do as the king instructed. General Nyssa and General Thaluzar instructed their squads on how to fight. Within a few moments the palace gardens were once more in chaos.

The intruders had no care for the damage they were causing on the roses that Varziel had planted for his queen. That in itself made him angrier. His movements were quick.

With a powerful leap, he had surged forward, Vhalgrith flashing in his grasp. His first strike carved through the torso of an enemy soldier, yet—once again—there was no blood. The intruder’s flesh split apart, but instead of blood, motes of light filled the space that had been cut.

The figure froze, then shattered into rectangular shards of gold and green, its body dissolving as if it had never existed. Above where it had stood, the strange, floating text flickered for a few seconds before vanishing into nothing.

Varziel paid it no heed as he continued to strike down intruder after intruder. However, there seemed to be no end to them. The more he cut down, the more of them fell from the sky.

Another foe lunged at him from the side, the twin daggers they wielded slicing through the air with sharpness. Varziel twisted just in time, letting the blades skim past his armor. With his free hand, he lashed out, his claws ripping into the attacker’s face. The force of the strike sent them flying backward, their body crumbling before they even hit the ground.

The invaders did not stop. They swarmed him from all directions, coming in waves, seemingly unafraid of death. Perhaps they could not feel fear. But Varziel knew no fear greater than losing his wife.

He moved faster.

A blade came for his back—he shifted, letting it slide harmlessly past his side before spinning and cleaving the attacker’s arm clean off. Unlike a normal wound, there was no blood, no cry of agony. The limb simply fell off before disappearing -- vanishing into golden fragments, the floating text above them flickering with the unreadable symbols.

Then, Varziel watched with shocked eyes as the intruder’s arm grew back.

He was not sure if he could call it growing back seeing as there was a flickering of light before an arm appeared in the place of the one he had cut. He shifted, and Vhalgrith grew in his hands, shifting into a long range weapon. He let the shadows of his power seep out, catching another enemy by the throat.

He lifted them effortlessly, their legs kicking in empty space, before he had slammed them down with bone-crushing force. Not a moment later, he thrust Vhalgrith, who had shifted into a sword, downward, impaling them straight through the chest. The air flickered with the golden letters, before they, too, crumbled into nothing.

Yet, they kept coming.

Another warrior, clad who donned that strange segmented armor, rushed him with an oversized blade. The weapon was impossibly large, heavier than any mortal should have been able to wield—yet the attacker swung it with ease. The ground split apart where the blade struck, and stone shattering beneath its weight.

Varziel met the attack head-on.

Instead of dodging, he raised Vhalgrith to meet the strike. The moment the two weapons clashed, an immense shockwave erupted from the impact, sending dust and debris flying in all directions. Sparks showered through the air as Varziel’s shadowy powers clashed with the unnatural glow of the invader’s weapon.

With a snarl, he pushed forward, forcing his opponent back. His strength overwhelmed them, the sheer force of his attack sending cracks through the enemy’s weapon. Then, in one decisive motion, he broke through their guard, Vhalgrith cutting straight through the enemy’s blade and their body in the same strike.

Another golden flash. Another enemy gone.

At that moment, a voice crackled through the air.

No.

It reverberated through Varziel’s mind. He was unsure where it came from, and although he could not figure out where or who it came from, it sent a shiver down his spine. Upon hearing the voice, however, the invaders hesitated.

Varziel took that as an opportunity.

He gripped Vhalgrith tightly, channeling his energy into the weapon. It transformed into a large sword, which he slammed the tip of into the ground. A pulse of demonic energy seeped out of his body in a large amount, exploding outward, racing across the garden turned battlefield in jagged erratic lines, leaving fire in its wake.

This was not like any normal fire, and it did not burn like a normal flame. It erased whatever it touched, breaking the bodies of the invaders apart with a few licks of its flames.

.

S/T:

In an interview.

Interviewer: Your majesty, you said that you fought with the intruders, can you confirm that they will not pose a threat if ever they were to return?

Varziel: I, as the demon king, have never lost a battle, and I do not plan on doing so any time soon.

Interviewer 2: Your majesty, what about the origin of the attackers? What was their motive for springing such a large scaled attack on our kingdom.

Varziel: There is a search being done by the generals as to the origin of the attackers. Once we have more information, we will inform the public.

Interviewer 1: Is there anything else you would like to tell the people?

Varziel: Yes. You do not have to worry about anything, because I, the demon king, and my generals will do everything in our power to ensure that the people are safe, and that no one gets injured in battle. I encourage everyone with even the smallest bit of information to come to the palace and reveal whatever they know, to help with our investigation.

Interviewer 3: What about the rumors that this attack was orchestrated by the angels.

Varziel: I would like to put those rumors to rest. The queen, who you all know is an angel, did her best to protect this kingdom, together with her brother. That should be enough information.

(That evening, as they are watching the interview on the telly) Arella: You look quite dashing.

Varziel: Do you like the figure on the telly more, or me?

Arella: Confused jpg.

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