More Cahov Demons appeared, large and small. Meanwhile the ambassador talked to the Urir leadership with a magic crystal, observing the battle from safety.
“Dear High priest,” the ambassador began.
His red skin glowed with satisfaction, his eyes red, he bowed before the hologram.
“What is it ambassador?” The High Priest said, “We Earth Demons do not like our peace being disturbed.”
“We no longer need your patch of land,” the ambassador said, “we have located what we were looking for.”
“Is that so?” The High priest grinned, “well good luck in your hunt,” he said with a strong dose of sarcasm, acid in his tone.
There was a pause, the ambassador was not amused, but the conversation had not quite ended yet.
“One word of advice, if I may,” the ambassador said simply.
“Go on,” the High priest said.
“The Warlock is powerful Amalkur,” the ambassador said, “we must contain it before it get’s too much. Warlock sorcery is unnatural and downright dangerous, it must be contained.”
The High priest laughed for a good few moments.
“In my mind the Cahov Fire Demons are downright dangerous, we have been preparing for war with you in case this was some elaborate ruse, but go enjoy your hunt ambassador,” Amalkur was in a better mood this time.
The call ended, the magic crystal ended the hologram.
“We will,” the ambassador muttered angrily, to nothing but himself.
The ambassador noticed the fighting up ahead.
“What happened to general Angria?”
“He’s dead… sir,” an adjutant said hesitantly.
“Right, this Warlock is clearly using his powers… damn it. The High Lords will not be pleased with this.”
Let alone the Devils. God anything but those… oh no.
It had a ghastly red aura surrounding it, the ambassador immediately prostrated before it.
“Put your head down idiot!” A voice in the background said.
Everyone was prostrating before the higher being. An arrogant loud being that wanted its will obeyed at all times, with a vicious temper. The thuds of their fiery feet were already filled with anger, their arms pulsating with the fiery chaotic energy, a distorted mana, but mana nonetheless.
“Thank you devoted worshippers. Inner hell has been worried about this ‘Warlock,’ and so I have come to investigate.”
“Of course high one,” the ambassador said.
He was not even glancing up at the Devil, hoping that it would not be vengeful. The Devil blipped away towards Madakos. It attempted to summon a massive fireball to kill Madakos, but Hunila sniped the Devil clean, the body limply fell. The Demons who pursued Madakos got mopped up, Hunila pressed her tits on his side, but with all the panic and chaos Madakos had no time to be conscious of his arousal, even though he was, even her sweat was intoxicating.
“Thank you Hunila!” He breathed only for her to hear, “that thing looked dangerous.”
“It is only possible with Zira… with being a Warlock,” she admitted.
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Tamura had meanwhile evacuated the Shadow Elf Ena clan from the vicinity, braving treacherous deserts, killing large ants and Scorpion-Men, but most of all running with all their might. Tamura had one ten million Zira producing construct, a golden construct, that she lugged in her own arms smothering it in affection.
“Keep moving! Those Demons will catch up to us, and not for chatting I assure you!” Tamura screamed at them.
The Shadow Elves shuffled along, they turned around to peer at what was chased them, worried faces and lots of exhales as they ran away. Madakos made purple fire descend on the Cahov Demon reinforcements before teleporting into the sand with Hunila, his 4 constructs and Hunila’s 1 came along with them.
“Something tells me, there are many more Demons,” Hunila whispered.
“Many more.” Madakos said, “I have created towers in differing locations to fool them, they will follow a false trail.”
Hunila smirked at him, looking behind her. Madakos blipped through the sands, spending a lot of Zira in the process before they finally caught up with rest of Hunila’s fleeing clan, the Ena clan. With the entire Ena clan Madakos teleported further into the sands thousands of kilometres in fact, in a north westerly direction, arriving at another Shadow Elf clan’s domain, these other Shadow Elves stared incredulously at the sudden immigrants to their land.
“Halt and state your business!” One Shadow Elf said, bandying his knife around.
The knife was impressive by itself, a lilac purple colour handle, with a clear sheen blade that reflected the sun, it’s only real purpose was the blinding effect using the sun’s rays. Five others already had their bows out, aiming them at the newcomers.
“We need ships to flee!” Tamura said.
“Demons seek us out,” Madakos further explained.
The Shadow Elf clan they approached numbered some 15 people, and they did the arithmetic to work out more or less what was going on.
“I am a hardly a scholar, but I guess that the reason has to do with those things you’re carrying,” one of the men said, “I hazard a guess that you’re wanted for illicit magic.”
Wasting no time another clan member piped up:
“We are the Esim clan,” one of them said, “why are you here?” The words were particularly biting and delivered acidly.
“Illicit magic is a pretty good description,” Hunila said, “running from Demons and the Undead.”
The Esim were immediately flabbergasted by the words said, all their faces curled up in astonishment, some outright got their weapons out. Their eyebrows raised and their eyes twitched, the scent of fear could be smelt by anyone let alone suspicious Shadow Elves, nervous sweat on all parties.
“Demons and the Undead?” One of them nervously repeated, “the ones who can teleport anywhere and the ones who can raise the dead?”
The Ena clan, Madakos and Tamura all simply nodded.
“We have to hurry, these lands are not safe. We need boats, if you need water, we can make it, we must go and leave these lands and flee the Demons,” Hunila exhorted them.
“Water?” One of the elders repeated a bit surprised.
Madakos produced a lake, which immediately astonished the Esim clan members. A long second followed, a younger man immediately approached the newcomers.
“We will come with you! I know we will,” he said, looking behind him for affirmation, rather emphatically eyeing his clan members to agree.
The other clan members were skeptical, but bewildered, another joined in the young man.
“Perhaps it is our destiny to come with you and forge a new path.”
Madakos interrupted the agreement to disagree with the Esim clan member.
“Zira is about creating your own destiny. This is your choice. We will not force you to do anything, we can probably teleport you to where we are going, or anywhere else you wish to go.”
“You wish to go westwards?” Tamura surmised, “damn it Madakos that’s even crazier than fighting the Demons and Undead. They call that Continent of Death for a reason.”
Anger immediately swelled at him at the words.
“No one’s ever been there!” Madakos nearly caught himself shouting, “we have to escape to somewhere safer. At least until we accumulate more Zira.”
“Excuse this Humans lack of manners,” Hunila laughed, and then glared up at him.
Nonetheless, even with a glare to tell him to stop, he tingled almost with happiness.
“It is ok,” one of the Esim clan members said, “forge our own destiny, I’ll do it. For a long time, all we’ve done is fish, grow coconuts, and live peaceful but uneventful lives. We are hardly made for war, but we need to truly be in command of where we’re going…”
Madakos and Hunila nodded, growing food, cutting it; corn and wheat and coconuts stacked in two long ships, everything else was trashed by the wayside; burnt into ash, buried in the sand as if nothing ever existed there.
“I’m sorry, because of us…” Hunila said guiltily to one of the men.
“It is ok, this is a decision we made,” a man said, “there are no regrets in such a decision.”
The man extracted both blades from their sheaths tossed them in the air and put them back in, some sort of superstitious ritual, perhaps for luck, perhaps for strength, whatever it did, it certainly made the Shadow Elf feel determined.
“Let us begin.”