FALLEN ANGEL: MARRIED TO THE DEMON KING
Chapter 96: THE DEMON KING JOINS (2)

Chapter 96: THE DEMON KING JOINS (2)

For the first time, Varziel let out a grin. Although his lips were pulled up into a smirk, it was more chilling than the frost in the air. It was nothing like the smile that he offered his wife when they were together. It was the smile of a man who loved to spill blood.

His weapon pulsed again, reshaping itself into a long glaive. He spun it once, the tip drawing a lazy circle in the air. With a boom, he launched himself forward, as each breath came sharp and fast, adrenaline burning through his veins.

He could not afford to waste another moment, not when he wife was out there, fighting.

Arella was strong, he knew that much. However, he had always somehow lost things that he loved, things that he cared for. He refused for Arella to face the same fate. Not when he had just gotten her in his grasp.

The woman’s blade flickered, a cold light trailing in its wake as she deflected his first swing. The second strike came from below, a feint, before Varziel spun the glaive and aimed for her ribs.

She twisted, but this time, she was not fast enough. The blade grazed her side, tearing through the leather of her clothes. No blood spilled, but he had wounded her. Rather than bleed, her injury flickered a multitude of colors in rectangular shapes before the cut disappeared. It was as if Varziel had not just inflicted a wound upon her.

Then, just as Varziel was wondering if his attack had truly been ineffective, golden characters appeared above the woman’s head. The characters were completely useless to Varziel, who ignored them and pressed on his attack.

He slashed at her again, turning their bodies such that her back was facing the balcony rail and his back was turned to his office. He pushed her towards the edge of the balcony with each attack, each strike heavier and faster than the previous one, fueled by his growing dread. The woman moved like shadow, dodging and parrying each of his attacks with an uncanny precision.

Then, without warning, her hand flicked outwards, not toward him this time, but toward the ground. Ice bloomed beneath his feet, causing his footing to falter.

In that short heartbeat, she struck. Her dagger swept upward, aimed for his exposed throat.

Varziel barely had time to react, as he threw himself backward, the icy edge kissing his skin as he fell into a roll. His weapon, Vhalgrith, dissolved into black mist and reformed into twin short swords as his boots found solid ground again.

The woman paused, head tilted as if assessing him anew. Then, her eyes found something behind Varziel, and he did not have to turn to know that the two of them were no longer alone.

Varziel grunted as he steadied himself, taking in a deep breath to calm himself. The second presence that entered his field of view was not an ally, Varziel could immediately tell that. They did not carry the signature he would expect from a demon.

He could hear the whisper of movement, a tiny shift in the air behind him. Without turning, he lashed out with one of his short swords, aiming backward in a wide arc. The clash of metal against metal was satisfying, and was enough to let him know that his instincts were right.

He spun, his other blade coming up to deflect a second attack, this time from a massive curved sword that seemed almost too large for a single person to wield. The weapon’s edge shimmered with a strange blue light, but whatever magic he wielded was different from the frost magic that the woman had.

A deep voice spoke, in a language that the Varziel did not understand. The woman responded, in that same foreign language. Varziel grit his teeth, "Who are you?" He asked finally.

The new opponent turned to him, he was a towering figure, clad in black armor that reflected the light of the suns that hung high in the sky. The armor was segmented, in a way that reminded Varziel of the exoskeleton of an insect. There were two little horns protruding from the helmet, which concealed the features of the attacker entirely, save for a single glowing crimson slit where their eyes should have been.

The two of them ignored his question.

Varziel’s weapon returned to his hands, and melted into a large broadsword.

The armored warrior pressed forward, forcing Varziel to take a step back. Their blows were heavy, each strike carrying the weight of someone who was used to overpowering their enemies with brute strength.

Varziel’s muscles burned as he parried again, and again, the clanging of their swords ringing in the cold air. The first woman had, for some reason, stepped back, and even Varziel had been unable to read the expression she had beneath her mask.

Just as he was sure she had gotten worn out by his attack, she lifted her hand.

Ice bloomed once more, but this time, not in the form of icicles. Instead, jagged pillars of frost erupted from the ground, forming a circular barrier around them. It was a cage of ice, trapping him inside with both opponents. It also limited the scope in which he could fight.

Varziel exhaled through his nose, steadying the grip he had on his weapon. His mind worked fast, as he calculated his next best move. If he hesitated, even for a moment, they would overwhelm him, and Arella, his angel, was still out there, fighting on her own.

His heartbeat steadied, as his thrum of adrenaline narrowed into sharp focus. His gaze flicked between his two attackers. The ice cage glistened around them, each jagged pillar thrumming with unfamiliar magic.

The armored warrior advanced first, curved sword raised high. His heavy footfalls cracked the thin layer of frost beneath them, and Varziel ducked low, sidestepping the downward swing and twisting his broadsword into an upward slash aimed for the exposed gap between the warrior’s segmented armor.

Metal screeched as his blade bit into the joint at the waist. It was a clean hit. Yet, instead of flesh and blood, more of those strange flickering rectangles erupted from the wound, like shards of broken glass reflecting an unseen light. The damage he caused vanished in an instant, as if reality had rewritten the injury. Those golden characters appeared above the armored man’s head, but he did not seem fazed by the attack Varziel had inflicted, and instead jumped back, away from Varziel’s blade.

Varziel cursed under his breath.

These enemies did not bleed, and did not respond like any foe that he had ever fought.

The woman moved next, her form blurring as she darted in from his left, Ice coated her daggers, the tips glowing that eerie blue. He parried her first strike, then her second strike, the force of her blows much weaker than that of her ally.

She obviously was trying to injure him, but he was a second faster each time, and much stronger than she was. Varziel’s patience was growing thin though. He still needed to get back to his wife. He needed to be fighting by her side. He weaved his demonic energy, molding the shadows that were around them to his will, making a thick and study rope.

S/T:

Lady Seraphine and Lady Immera: (Every time the king thinks that Arella is fighting on her own.) I mean technically we are useless compared to the King. He is much stronger than all of us combined..

Lady Immera: (Rolls eyes) The king is a child. I was fighting wars way before he was born, how dare he think that I am useless. The audacity he has should be studied.

Velmoria: (Ever the peace maker) Now, why don’t we all calm down. I am sure the king did not think of it like that. After all, I am also here fighting with you all.

(All of them turn to look at Varziel) (Varziel looks away from them, and a trickle of sweat drips down his forehead)

Velmoria: (Smiles) Well? Your majesty?

Varziel: (Lets out his wings and flies away)

(A few days later, Velmoria hands him her resignation:) Varziel: What is this for?

Velmoria: A useless thing such as myself does not need to work for the almighty demon king.

Varziel: (Eye twitches and he tears the resignation) Go back to work.

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