FALLEN ANGEL: MARRIED TO THE DEMON KING
Chapter 95: THE DEMON KING JOINS

Chapter 95: THE DEMON KING JOINS

That afternoon was like any other afternoon Varziel had had after marrying his wife. The suns looked a lot brighter, the sky looked a lot bluer and the sound of birds sounded just a tad nice to listen to.

Varziel was neck deep in documents, most of which pertained to the preparation of his wife’s coronation, some of which included the work that was to be done with regard to the disturbance in the east, and a few from the high lords pertaining to issues that they needed him to assist with in their areas of work.

It was a normal day.

He was aware of the tea party that Arella had put together, and was waiting for evening to arrive so that she could tell him everything, while he was balls deep inside her.

The thought of her writhing beneath him was enough to get him working harder, and faster.

By the time the guests were arriving, he was halfway done with his documents of the day, and would only need a few more hours to finish up all of his tasks. In his break, he had watched through the window as the guests mingled, and as Arella and her brother joined them. Watching her laugh with the high lords was like a balm to his soul.

It strengthened him enough to go back to work.

It was as he was going through his documents that the air around him shifted. It was like the demonic energy in the air was being swallowed up by something. He immediately knew that something was wrong.

He stood up, and took big strides to the window, where he could see the garden in the distance. It was then that he saw them, large holes in the sky, dark unnatural voids gaped open in the sky, seemingly devouring the mana around them. Even though there was a distance, Varziel could still clearly see them. He could also clearly see the things that dropped from the sky to the ground, into the garden where his wife was having his tea.

Into the garden.

Where his wife was having his tea!

His fingers twitched, and he took the two steps to his table, where he pulled open a drawer and plucked a small black pen sized weapon from his desk. With a low hum, it sucked demonic energy from his body, and rapidly grew in size.

As it grew, Varziel turned back to his balcony, prepared to jump off of it. Just then, a blade was held to his neck. Varziel raised a brow as he turned to look at the person who stood behind him.

A woman in a black shiny body suit stood behind him. There was a mask over her face, and it only revealed her black eyes. What he could see of her skin was pale, and it was somewhat disconcerting, that her eyes were darker than any he had seen before.

"Who are you?" He asked as calmly as he could, gripping his weapon tighter.

The woman tilted her head slightly, as if she could not understand his words. Varziel sighed, exasperated. "I do not have time for this." He lowered his body into a fighting stance and his feet slid smoothly into position, his weapon thrumming with the energy it had drawn from him. It had grown long, into a large sword with a dark blade that shimmered faintly as if it had stars inlaid in it.

The woman did not move, but her eyes, black as the voids in the sky, narrowed.

Varziel did not wait for an invitation, as he immediately struck. His weapon hissed through the air, aimed for her midsection. However, contrary to Varziel’s expectations, the woman twisted impossibly fast, her body folding back as she dodged his attack. She retaliated with a kick, aiming for his ribs. He caught her ankle with one hand, and spun her away, sending her skidding across the polished balcony floor.

"You’re fast, I will give you that." Varziel muttered as his weapon shifted once more, melting into a pile of black goo and reforging itself into a spear which he used to slash at her. The woman dodged his weapon once more, then raised her hand, with her fingers splayed, and the temperature around them plummeted. The warmth of the sunlit balcony vanished, replaced by a biting chill that made Varziel’s breath plume in the air.

From her palm, jagged shards of ice materialized, sharp and glistening like crystalline daggers. She used no incantation, there was no flare of familiar magic, angelic or demonic, just an unnatural stillness as the icicles hovered for a heartbeat.

Then they shot at him

Varziel barely had any time to react, as he twisted his spear, and the dark weapon hummed as it unraveled into a swirling black shield, demonic energy solidifying into layered, curved plates. The first icicle shattered against the shield with a deafening crack, followed by another, then another, each impact reverberating through his arms.

But the woman didn’t stop. More icicles formed, faster this time, streaking toward him in a barrage of chill and crisp air. It took almost all that Varziel had to keep up with the attack. Varziel cursed under his breath and sidestepped, letting his shield dissolve back into the gooey form.

The black ooze slithered along his arm and reshaped itself into twin daggers—lighter, faster. He fell back into his fighting stance, and ran forward to attack. He ducked under a cluster of icicles and closed the distance between them.

He did not know why, but he had an itch, an itch to get to his wife as quickly as he could.

The woman met his charge without hesitation, and her curved daggers met his own blades with a loud clang. As she deflected his first strike with a flick of her wrist, more ice bloomed around her, forming a jagged wall that forced him to halt his advance.

With a growl, he spun away from the barrier, and his daggers melted once more into a single, long whip. The tip flickered with a dark flame as he found her weak spot and lashed it toward her exposed side.

The woman, however, dodged his attack, flipping backwards with an inhuman grace. As she landed, her hand clenched into a fist, and the icicles that had missed him just moments ago halted mid air and twisted their tips to Varziel.

She could control them after releasing them?!

However, She was not using demonic magic, nor was she using angelic magic. That realization chilled him more than the frost in the air.

With a sharp gesture, she redirected the frozen icicles, sending them curving around Varziel. There was no time for Varziel to block her attack. His weapon, Vhalgrith, could not transform into a shield that fast.

Varziel slammed his foot into the ground, channeling energy through his body. His weapon responded instantly, shattering into a black mist that swirled around him in a protective cyclone. It was a meagre attempt at a shield, but it worked enough to protect him. The icicles struck the barrier, cracking and splintering into harmless shards.

The woman was already moving.

She darted through the dissipating mist, her blade back in her hand, sleek, curved and this time glowing a faintly blue color. The edge shimmered with frost, and Varziel just barely met her strike with the hilt of his reforming weapon.

The impact sent both of them sliding backwards, their boots scraping against the marble floor.

S/T:

Velmoria: (Pushes glasses up nose.) Welcome to learning with Velmoria. Today we will be learning about the weapon that the demon king uses. Its name is Vhalgrith and it is a weapon that shapes itself to the need of the wielder. The king is the only one to tame this accursed weapon since Drilak the wise over a thousand years ago.

Arella: (Raises hand) So does that mean that my husband is strong.

Velmoria: (Facepalms) That is not the point here, your highness.

Arella: (Tilts head) Then what else can it mean? If this, Vhalgrith is as strong as you say, and the king is the owner of it, then does that just not prove his strength.

Velmoria: (Speechless) I mean, that is not wrong... but your highness, this was a lesson about the weapon itself, not the strength of the demon king.

Arella: (Shrugs) Same difference

This content is taken from (f)reewe(b)novel.𝗰𝗼𝐦