Few traveled this land on the border of the old world. The edge of the great divide was not more than a day away from this place. Many lonely ruins dotted these lands, old military installments from the time of the demon war — abandoned and decaying from their lack of use. Among them, a lone castle shrouded in fog sat nestled deep within a dense wet forest. The forest was silent; not a soul would dare wake the ghosts sleeping here.
“Are you playing with me? This is the ‘brilliant plan’ that you came here to discuss? Is this the best you can do, Mr.’ Demon Lord?’” A demon with black hair and a pair of broken horns reclined behind his desk with an incredulous glare.
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Across from him stood a hulking demon whose eyes seemed anchored shut, accompanied by a demon who stood with a refined posture.
“Marchosias.” The formal demon adjusted his circular pair of glasses. “You may not live in our country anymore, but all demons still have the responsibility to serve the Demon Lord.”
“Deucalion, can I call you Deuce?” Marchosias sat up straight in his chair. “I’m not buying what you’re selling; surely you’re not telling me that this here is the Demon Lord we’ve waited centuries for.”
“—Why you! How dare you take that tone in front of his excellency—”
“Deucalion.” The demon lord opened his eyes, revealing a milky, bluish tint, the sight of which prompted Deucalion to close his mouth. After the room fell silent, he addressed Marchosias, “I understand your skepticism. However, whether or not I am worthy of being called ‘Demon Lord,’ I am still the ruler of Lestrera. This is an important request for the sake of our home country, and we need your help, spell thief. Or perhaps all these years of fraternizing with humans have turned you soft?”
Marchosias breaks out into laughter. “I see; that’s what you think this is. No, no, no, I’m far from soft. I’ve ruined the lives of more humans than I can count. Really, it’s been quite a ride. If your plan was interesting, I’d support it. But it’s not interesting; it’s insane,” he announced bluntly, which prompted a visible stir from Deucalion. “Even if everything goes exactly as you plan, what then? You’d draw the full anger of the starlit church, nay the full anger of humanity. They would slaughter our tiny country like ants.”
“We’ll win. A few knights and heroes will be no match for us. Besides, the heroes are only a decorative position these days.”
“Even if they aren’t experienced, you really think you’re strong enough to overcome their weapons?”
The Demon Lord’s hand ignited in a bright blue flame burning white at its core; the air above flickered in the heat. He quickly drew it up toward the spell thief.
Marchosias immediately shouted in a foreign language, “Entomb my enemy in the void of oblivion. Null Barrier!”
A large black sheet appeared in the air in front of the Demon Lord. The fireball from the moment before was whisked away like a roaring river into the barrier, disappearing instantly.
“It’s quite rude of you to mess up my home like that.” Marchosias scoffed. “If you want to fight, let’s take it outside.”
“I think here is fine.” The demon king smirked, taking a fighting stance.
Marchosias sighed then spoke in an ancient tongue, “Protect this place from my enemy, Sacred Ground!”
A magic circle that had been carved into the ceiling lit up in a golden light. The light grew and filled the room, and once it went away, the Demon Lord and his assistant were nowhere to be found. Tssk, I knew it would end up like this. Marchosias touched his hand to two bracelets on his wrist, each decorated with intricate magic writings. The bracelets glowed, illuminating the foreign script; Heavy black gauntlets appeared around his fists.
He approached the window and carefully opened it with the massive glove before jumping out. The gauntlet shook the earth as he landed fist first at the castle’s base.
“Ahh, there you are. I was worried you wouldn’t show.” said the demon lord, “I was thinking… you’ve lived in the human world for a long time, haven’t you? Have you forgotten what it was like to grow up in Lestrera?”
“Not a day goes by that I could forget.”
“Then you should know that we need to make humanity pay for banishing us to that place. This isn’t just about saving our kind; it’s about our dignity and payback.”
“I didn’t spend my life stealing and building hybrid magic for something like revenge,” Marchosias spoke with disgust, “It’s pointless! No matter how many humans you kill or take ‘revenge’ on, it remains the same. The dead stay dead, and your scars still remain. This magic, my life’s work has all been to improve the lives in Lestrera.”
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The Demon Lord scowled, “And yet here you are. Reclining in a fucking castle while hundreds of demons suffer each day. Right now, there are children whose flesh is being torn away in the cold. Frostbite. The gifted will live through it while the feelings of pain in their body fade away. All the while, the weak won’t be able to regenerate their injuries. Eventually, their skin will necrose before meeting a painful death. Am I making you uncomfortable?”
Marchosias grits his teeth.
“Then perhaps I should mention the total lack of supplies. There are still no good building materials to make sturdy homes out of. A shantytown of igloos surrounding one unseemly castle. That’s the demon ‘empire.’” The Demon Lord barked at Marchosias, “How about the lack of food? You can’t grow anything — not in that cold. Everyone is starving, except those willing to risk their bodies in the great divide or the frigid waters.”
Marchosias felt a knot forming in the back of his throat.
“It’s time you take action, all that magic, and you have the nerve to talk about how you are trying to make Lestrera better. Even if you have the answer, if all you do is sit in your castle and pretend to be human, you’re scum.”
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A young boy stared at a ceiling made of ice and snow; his stomach growled uncontrollably. He was hardly skin and bones, yet he didn’t cry. He was silent. He lied uncomfortably for hours until a girl only a few years older crawled into the small room.
The boy perked up. “Did you find us any food, Lia?”
The girl shook her head. “Sorry, Marcho… It’s wintertime. No one has any extra food for us.”
Lia patted Marcho’s head, rustling the hair between his horns. The two were close as siblings, and it was their first winter after their parents died.
“Can’t we just go south? Walk the coast until we reach civilization? It seems better than just starving here,” Marcho begged his sister.
“You know we can’t. The moment humans discover us, we’ll be killed.”
“But if we can’t find food soon… What’s going to happen to us?”
“I… I’ll find food, don’t worry.” Lia stared past Marcho toward the wall. “It’s time for me to get our own food. No more relying on others.”
“Lia! You can’t. Your regeneration is too weak.”
“I’m your older sister. If somebody has to go, it’s going to be me. Besides, you’re a pipsqueak.”
“Don’t go! We can last a little longer; someone has to have food for us soon.”
“Okay… Just a little longer, okay?”
“Okay”
The following day Lia was gone, Marcho searched and asked around, but his sister was nowhere to be found. He waited and waited, time seemed to slow, but the night passed anyway. Days turned into weeks. The neighbors who had rejected their pleas before gave him all the food they “didn’t have.”
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If only they had helped us back then, Lia never would have died. Marchosias gripped his gauntlet into a fist. “You’re right. It seems I am all talk. But that doesn’t mean your plan is the right thing to do.”
“Who cares if it’s right? At least I’m doing something. Will you help us?”
“No.”
“Very well then” The Demon Lord opened his eyes.
A fist wrapped in roaring lightning slammed into Marcho’s face sending him flying backward and crashing into the castle. The Demon Lord closed in quickly with another punch, but Marcho threw himself to the side and swung with his gauntlet, leaving a mark on the Demon Lord’s face.
“I gotta say, Marchosias, you’re one of the stronger demons I’ve met.” The demon lord taunted as he wiped the mark off his face.
“I’m just getting started,” Marcho smirked before chanting a magic spell. Marcho punched his oversized gauntlets together, and with a quake of energy, they were soon burning in a black flame.
“You’re magic’s flashy. I’ll give you that.” The Demon Lord mirrored marcho and clapped his fists together, coating them in a blue flame.
They both took off toward each other at full speed. Blow after blow was exchanged between them, causing the air to shake as stones fell from the dilapidated castle. Deucalion watched in awe as the two titans fought each other, seemingly even.
“This can’t be your full power, years spent developing magic, and this is all you’ve got?” The Demon Lord laughed.
“No, of course not. I just really wanted to punch you.” Marcho smiled.
This caused the Demon Lord to take things. Further, he slipped behind Marcho and released a large blast of blue fire directly at him.
“Don’t forget, you’re fighting a mage on his own turf.” Marcho pointed at the ground beneath them. A glimmering magic circle lit up from beneath the dirt. A massive cylinder of energy erupted from the ground surrounding the Demon Lord. The blast of blue fire collided with the wall of energy and splashed back towards the demon lord.
Marcho chanted another magic spell. “Prison of light encircle my enemy, cut off his movement.” The cylinder closed around the demon lord until he couldn’t move.
“Ah, it truly is wonderful having a proper match for me.” The Demon Lord patted out the flames that had engulfed his clothing. “Tell me, how does your barrier compare to the ones surrounding human cities?”
“It works on the same principle. Though the ones in the cities are much larger and more powerful.” Marcho replied while lowering his fists.
The Demon Lord placed his hand against the glowing wall; his muscles flexed as he pushed against it. He pulled his arm back and sucker-punched the wall causing blood to sponge onto his fists. “I see. I suppose force alone isn’t enough to break it.”
With his palm outstretched to the barrier, a glow of fire appeared. The slight glow grew into a massive blaze that climbed up the barrier. Once more, the Demon Lord threw his fist into the barrier.
“That’s not going to work. It’s got enough strength to hold you and enough mana to last for an hour.” Marcho walked back toward the castle.
“So it’s a battle of endurance then.” The Demon Lord’s whole body lit ablaze, and the whole cylinder turned a whitish blue with fire. Next, a fist crashed into the barrier, and a small crack formed — another fist hit it, and the crack grew. After several punches, the barrier shattered, and fire blasted out everywhere. He stood there with clothes smoldering, falling off his body — face covered with a wide smile.
Marchosias turned around, viewing the scene with shock. “How did you—”
“It’s strong, yes, and has a ton of mana. However, if that mana is spread out….”
“You figured that out in that short of time?”
“Well, you gave me a hint. Also, when it comes to sensing mana….” He gestured to his closed eyes. “I’m second to none.”
Marchosias gave an awkward half-smile. “Maybe you are really the Demon Lord.”
“Maybe. Well, I think we’re done here. Come find me if you change your mind. By the way, love what you’ve done with the place.” The Demon Lord waved goodbye and walked off into the forest, followed by Deucalion.