“Let me guess, my copycat wants to claim all I have, obliterate the sources of my grievances, then kill me,” Kilian rhetorically asked, and Eleonora answered with an approving nod.
“Exactly. He ordered me to become his wife and claimed he’d destroy the Failed Model within three months. I assume that you made a pact with Ashera to return to the Mortal Plane, and are now trying to weasel your way out of it. She realized it and created the Blood King to ensure she’d get her due,” Eleonora said, and Kilian’s shoulders rose in a helpless shrug.
“Back then, there was no other choice. I have the Eye of Fehl. If I didn’t sign that contract, Ashera would have trapped my soul and exhausted eternity to make me give it up. Even if she didn’t and let me go, I would have found my way in some other fehl’s captivity. Any strategy to offer?” He asked, and ignoring the mention of the Eye, Eleonora pointed at his neck.
“I’ve seen your Mark of Greed. Fitting for an unfaithful harem builder. Keep developing it, and since he stems from you, you can effortlessly devour the Blood King,” she offered. At high levels, the Mark of Greed enabled its owner to snatch back all that somehow belonged to them. As long as his Mark’s level outpaced the Blood King’s, Kilian could consume him.
”But without the Mastered Mark, you can’t choose what to keep and what to give up. So you’d also take in the Mark of Pride. As Greed is the only one that can hold the remaining six, you’d keep the two. The problem is…”
“That Ashera has the Mastered Mark of Pride. If I take the Blood King’s Mark, she can make me her puppet. So, unless I first master my Greed, that plan doesn’t work, and I will have to destroy him.” Kilian finished the words.
“Easier said than done. He inherited your previous body’s anti-magic and reversal abilities. Although I know that mahanas are not truly immune to magic, with his gene’s level, there is virtually no difference. Even for the average Exarch, defeating him will prove challenging,” Eleonora said, worried that having never met the Blood King, Kilian might underestimate the threat. However, his lips curled into a radiant smile.
“It’s fine. By my side, I have more than Exarchs. But while I deep down hope that he can live long enough for me to devour him, we should remove threats as soon as they arise and never give the opponent room to create damage--unless that’s part of the big picture,” Kilian said, and reading through the lines, Eleonora wondered if perhaps, Kilian had already come up with a plan to rid himself of his shackles in one stroke. But as she held his head on her lap, she felt that none of that mattered, and let go of all unnecessary thoughts.
…
Meanwhile, the Blood King’s greatsword hacked at Urag but, with each strike, failed to reach him.
“Woohoo!” Like a ballerina, the imp lord twirled out of the way of the sword slashes, poking at the Blood King’s endless pride with his glaring disrespect. From above, Zog’doroth watched the fight play out, but as a Fehl Noble, the daemon dared not intervene in the clash.
“Your Majesty, do not look down on this jester. While he ranks fairly low in the Lord hierarchy, a Fehl Lord he still is. With the current trend, let’s not mention victory; you can’t even graze his neck,” Zog’doroth said in a mental message. Even in the decadent fehl society, Urag became infamous for his relentless dedication to lust, debauchery and cuckolding. Many fehl males didn’t care for his misdeeds. But others accumulated eons of grievances, now eager to devour Urag’s fehl dra to the last bit. Zog’doroth wasn’t part of that lot and would rather not confront a superior.
“I see,” the Blood King whispered, and stopped his onslaught. Seeing this, Urag tilted his head and blinked at the Blood King.
“What? You finally realized that your sword was too small for a dick fight with me? Want to rush back to momma’s tits? What a disappointing cuck,” Urag threw his head back and cackled with laughter. But instead of the expected rage outburst, the Blood King grinned and sank his sword into the ground.
“The petty snides of an ant cannot disturb a divine monarch. Try as you might, your words hold no sway over my royal self,” the Blood King sneered, and closed his eyes. A thick aura of sanguine light coated his form, morphing into tendrils of blood that stretched across 18 meters.
Realizing that the Blood King’s Pride transcended all insults he could spew, Urag stopped the snark, and stared at his foe with utmost seriousness. While not the brightest tool in the shed, Urag had 30,000 years worth of survival skills, and wrestled with his fair share of cucked enemies. As Kilian requested, he hid in the shadows, not intervening until Lena became completely powerless.
Thanks to that, Urag witnessed the brief confrontation between Wilfried and the Blood King, enabling him to get hints of his foe’s unused abilities. Raising his right hand, Urag pulled the orb sheltering Lena and Tamara toward him and bolted toward the woods—feigning a retreat.
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Without opening his eyes, the Blood King swung his sword. With that one stroke, all dra particles around Urag detonated, surrounding the imp lord with waves upon waves of explosions that blew dozens of trees into debris. In synch, the blood tendrils lashed at Urag, moving at twice the speed of sound to whip and shackle him.
Smirking at the move, Urag stopped his bait retreat, and at Mach 3 speed, vanished to reappear behind before the Blood King.
The distressing sound of cracking bones rumbled as Urag headbutted the Blood King, sending him hurtling into distant trees—almost.
Before the Blood King slammed into the tree trunks, Urag blocked his path, kicked his chin, grabbed his right leg, and slammed him into the ground like a berserk behemoth. However, the Blood King’s mahana gene and Mark of Pride kicked into gear, healing all his wounds as soon as they appeared. Faced with a regeneration speed that put even fehls to shame, Urag hurled the Blood King into the sky and aimed his right hand at him.
“Fourth Circle Spell: Disintegration,” the imp lord uttered as he willed four purple pentagrams into existence, and directed his fehl dra to obliterate all particles in the Blood King’s body.
The expected ringing blast didn’t follow. Instead, the boisterous laughter of the overbearing Blood King rumbled in the Sura Plane’s icy-blue sky.
“I was chosen by Fate itself to rein in all living things. The will of destiny guides my every move. How could your insignificant magic harm me? Dull-witted, conceited and unredeemable insect, suffer Fate’s Judgment!” The Blood King snarled, and as the Crowned Skull on his neck shimmered, red armor plates covered his body, wrapping him in a blood-red heavy armor shaped like a ravenous demon knight, with red energy wings fit for a fallen angel—the Blood King, or more precisely, Kilian’s modified Mahana Armor.
Behind his demon knight helmet, the Blood King sneered at Urag and aimed his left hand toward him.
Urag’s Fourth Circle Spell’s might surged from the Blood King’s hand, slamming the imp lord with full force. Seeing his own spell returned to his face, Urag frowned. But as grimaces halted no disaster, the spell smashed into him. Clenching his teeth, Urag sank his feet into the ground and resisted the spell’s impact.
But though in usual days, a Fourth Circle Spell shouldn’t have been able to injure him, Urag still spurted blood. His lips then curled into a maniacal grin.
“Negation and reversal, a prime mahana. Alright, the info gathering time’s over.
I, Lord of the 256th Legion, call upon my Fehl Blood to bridge the gap of planes, and summon my liegemen!” Urag proclaimed as his hands moved in eldritch gestures. The ground cracked, the trees swayed, unbridled wind squalls whistled left and right while the dra in the atmosphere flowed in reverse.
6,666 purple vortices appeared above Urag, and from them, red, demonic heads of various sizes poked out.
“Fifth Circle Spell: Fehl Legion Summoning!”
Unleashing the horrible might of his fehl dra, Urag bridged the gap of planes, and hurled his Fehl Legion into the Sura World!
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