Fable slowed as we reached the peak of a hill overlooking the valley. It was some miles away, yet I could make out the shapes of the massive evolved demons. One, a vaguely humanoid giant with four arms, towered above the rest, perhaps a hundred feet tall.
"That one’s new," I said.
Fyren shrugged. "Demon gates have been appearing all over. It’s natural some of them have brought more Devoted."
"So they’re all gathering here? Will I have to give them my mark?" I asked.
"Assuming they accept it. Mine were bound to me, thus followed my command in accepting you as their master. It will be up to the leaders of the newcomers whether they trust you enough to give you the mark. But I wouldn’t worry about their obedience, mark or otherwise. The Devoted will serve you."
A sudden burst of aura swept over us. Fable kicked off the ground, redirecting his momentum sideways. I screamed, holding on for dear life as we landed atop a hillside some hundred yards away. The ground erupted in shadow and dust from where we’d been standing just a second ago. The resulting shockwave smashed against my wards, nearly rupturing them.
"S-seventh-level," I gasped, choking for breath.
"Stay here. All of you." Fyren said, drawing his sword. "This won’t take long."
He jumped off Fable, soaring to the rising plume of dust and shadow. Elise and R’lissea drew close, gripping their mana tightly.
"What’s happening? Who is it?" Elise asked.
I shook my head. "I don’t know. It’s a demon, but they don’t have a presence or mark. I didn’t even feel them till right before they attacked."
R’lissea patted Fable. "Good thing he was paying attention, then."
Fable growled softly, the noises louder than the thunder of the storm over the distant demon gate. I shook my head at the condescending thoughts he gave me through our bond.
"Not everyone is as perceptive as you," I muttered. "You’re an eighth-level monster, and we’re just people. There should be a difference."
He snorted, his tail flicking. I just rolled my eyes.
Fyren landed on a hilltop closer to the mushroom cloud. A small burst of aura from within it blasted apart, revealing a demon. It was tall and lanky, close to twenty feet at the shoulder. Dull gray armor made up the substance of its body, covering flesh made from living shadow. Its only feature was piercing red eyes staring through Fyren at me. I shivered. It had been a long time since I felt the pure lust and hostility in a demon’s eyes. The marks had always tempered that desire. This demo
"A curse demon. I should have guessed. Why do you have no mark?" Fyren asked.
The demon took a step forward, not reacting to his voice. It’s growled low in its throat like a feral animal. Shadows twisted around the fingers of its gauntlets. The black energy coalesced into a crackling spear of black lightning.
Fyren tensed and raised his sword. The black energy hurled toward him, splitting the air apart. He unleashed a wave of fire, triggering an explosion that consumed both attacks.
The demon burst through the shockwave, shadowy talons extending from its gauntlets. Each claw sent razor-thin arcs of darkness toward Fyren, slicing the air asunder.
The fire demon, not moving a step, raised his sword horizontally, angling the blade. He channeled his mana, and the black obsidian glowed red like lava. The black lines deflected off it, ripping deep scores in the hillside. Fyren was pushed back a few yards, feet leaving deep furrows in the earth.
"It’s strong," R’lissea said. She frowned, puzzled. "But he’s a lot stronger."
After blocking a few more ranged attacks, Fyren swished his sword and lunged toward the demon. It met him in close range, slashing with both clawed hands. His blade wove between the attacks, trailing a fiery red ribbon from its tip. It flashed once, then twice, and the curse demon screeched, reeling back. The lower half of its left gauntlet shattered, disintegrating into white ash before it hit the ground.
They exchanged another dozen blows, blurring with speed. Fyren’s blade moved with purpose, whirling in a sphere-like pattern around him, appearing in the path of the demon’s claws before it had even launched the attack.
"What is Fyren doing? Why doesn’t he just kill it already?" Elise asked.
I pursed my lips, flinching as a particularly powerful shockwave rippled across my wards.
"I think he’s practicing," I said.
"He’s still getting used to his sword. From what I’ve seen, it takes a long time for a warrior to master any individual weapon, especially one as finely crafted as his new sword," R’lissea explained.
"But isn’t it dangerous?" Elise asked.
I shook my head. "Probably, but he seems to enjoy the thrill. Isn’t that right, Fable?"
Fable huffed, blasting us with a gust of hot air. I smoothed my skirt, glaring at him. The smugness in our bond was even more irritating than his reaction.
"Battle maniac," I muttered, turning back to the battle.
The demon let out another shriek as Fyren shaved a few inches off its pauldron, the latest in a series of long scars marring its plate. It distanced itself with a jump and began channeling mana into its soul. Fyren tensed as seven magic circles appeared around the curse demon, raising his sword. I waited for him to unleash his mana or at least try and close the gap in time, but he just stood there, watching intently.
My hands twitched, half summoning my staff before I could stop myself. Every instinct urged me to link with Fyren and share my resistance. But I restrained myself. There was a reason he wasn’t responding to the threat. There had to be. I just couldn’t see it.
The attack came suddenly and without warning. Gusts of dark magic erupted from the demon’s chest, surging forward like a tornado. It ravaged the land, sucking earth and vegetation from the ground, leaving bedrock peeking from a gaping trench behind. The ground grayed in its wake, the ambient mana in the air losing its luster. Everything alive withered and blackened, still alive but...tainted.
Fyren disappeared into the black vortex, giving me only a faint silhouette to pray for. The curse demon relaxed as it enveloped him, turning toward me with the same hungry look in its eye as before. Elise gasped as it lunged forward, gripping her skirt.
A glowing red hand burst out of the tornado, grasping the demon’s arm as it ran by. The dull, iron bracer crumpled beneath its fingers, hissing and steaming, glowing red like the grasping hand. The demon shrieked and swiped at the arm with its talons, but a sheathe of fire mana rolled over the hand, protecting it. The curses devoured it, breaking through the ward, but their strength dwindled before they could harm the flesh beneath.
Ribbons of red and orange lit up the depths of the tornado, twirling high into the sky. First there were sparks, then embers, and finally a roaring inferno that consumed the curses entirely. The darkness collapsed in on itself, burning like mist in the morning sun.
The flames dispersed with a small shockwave, scorching the ground black for a hundred feet in all directions. Fyren stood proudly in the center, sword raised over his head, his other hand holding the demon. Curses wove around his body, attacking his body and soul. Several long cuts bled across his body, and his armor was scratched and dented.
"Die," he said coldly.
His blade plunged into the demon’s chest, releasing a wave of pent-up mana. Fires spread from the blade, consuming its shadow and iron body, reducing it to fine, white ash that drifted away on the breeze summoned by the conflagration. Its death screech rent the air, ringing in my ears.
As the last of the demon corpses disintegrated, Fyren swished his sword to the side, flicking ash from the blade. He sheathed it and jogged back to us, expressionless as always.
"So strong," R’lissea breathed.
"You’re hurt," I said.
I stepped forward, tentatively reaching for his arm. He let me take it, and I turned his hand over, examining the inside of his forearm, where the demon’s claws struck. His skin was ashen gray, the veins black beneath. Ribbons of curse mana penetrated his flesh, polluting the natural cycle of infernal mana. The cuts around his body were similarly afflicted, refusing to heal under his natural regeneration.
I started to soul cast Liberation, but I stopped, eyes widening. He breathed deeply, sending little waves of fire across his body. They stopped just shy of my skin, but I recoiled from the heat, nearly dropping his hand. As the flames touched the curses, the darkness evaporated. They healed the taint from his skin and scourged the blood from his armor. In seconds, the wounds had vanished as if it never existed. What I saw there made my tail go rigid.
"You didn’t," I whispered, looking into his eyes.
He grinned, pulled his hand out of my grip, and patted me on the head with it. I was too stunned to protest, only pushing him away as his fingers brushed the base of my horns.
"How?" I asked. "How did you replicate it? That’s the dragons’ ability!"