Meztraxia removed his helmet, and took a deep breath. The air was thick with choking smoke and the metallic taste of blood. Distasteful as the combination was, the smell filled him with satisfaction. The human’s great city had all but fallen before his might. With the Demon King’s blessing, it would be the first of many snuffed out by his champion.

A soldier wearing a breastplate decorated in his colours stepped out from one of the side streets and said, “I have returned, my lord.”

Meztraxia deigned to glance at his underling before returning to his inspection of his victory. “How goes it?”

“We have purged every ward in the north and west districts.”

“Did you meet much resistance?”

“Their militia made us work for it, but it was nothing we couldn’t handle, my lord.”

“Casualties?”

“I don’t have a precise count at this stage, my lord, but I believe ours number approximately eight thousand.”

Meztraxia sneered. “Eight thousand? Against this rabble?” That was close to a fifth of their forces, an absurd number given the ease with which the city had fallen. Were his subordinates so incompetent? He turned to glare at his courier. “What was your name again?”

“Vont, my lord.”

“Have we met before?” Now that he looked at him, there was something vaguely familiar about the young red-skinned demon.

“I’ve served as your aide for years, my lord.”

“Hm, no matter. Tell me, Vont, does this figure not strike you as excessive?”

Vont lowered his head. “I could not possibly make such a judgement, my lord. Though I will note that we suffered a considerable number of them at the hands of the goddess and her Paladins, when they sortied. It’s only thanks to your intervention that the number wasn’t higher.”

“Then you’re saying our losses are my fault for not cutting down that godling sooner?” Meztraxia maintained his glower, though inwardly he was laughing at the poor fellow’s discomfort. Still, to his credit, Vont didn’t hesitate.

“I would not dream of assigning blame, my lord. I’m sure you arrived with all due haste.”

Meztraxia allowed himself a slight smile at his aide’s carefully chosen words, it was no wonder the man had maintained his position for years. Assuming he’d been telling the truth, one could never be sure of such things. He’d have to confirm Vont’s story once the battle for the city was over.

“And you’re certain about the wards?” Meztraxia asked. If by some incredible stroke of misfortune, the humans reclaimed their home, he meant to render it unhabitable to them. It seemed a fair trade for the disaster they’d brought to his world.

“Yes, my lord. I confirmed the destruction of each myself. Barring the possibility of wards undetectable by our mages, then I am certain none remain in the parts occupied by our forces.”

“Excellent. We’ll be done by morning at this rate.” Regrettable as their losses were, they did nothing to sour the sweet taste of victory. He could always get more soldiers; the humans could not replace their cities. The more Meztraxia thought of it, the more he was unable to contain himself. Why was he wasting time surveying the city when he had yet to finish vanquishing its owners? Vont made some passing remark of assent, which made no impression on Meztraxia’s musing.

Seized with renewed purpose, the Demon Lord donned his helmet and reclaimed the halberd he’d left leaning against the wall. “I tire of waiting. Gather my guard, we march for the city centre.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Vont hurried off to carry out Meztraxia’s will, and the Demon Lord went back to enjoying his conquest. Though now that the true destruction of the city was so close, watching smoke rise from the humans’ dwellings had lost some of its appeal and he soon grew weary of it. Drawing upon his sanguis —the power granted to each Demon Lord— he created a swarm of purple soldiers in miniature.

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Driven by his will, they latched onto the stone wall of the nearest building and pulled until it collapsed. It was a pointless exercise, given that the humans wouldn’t be able to survive here anymore, but it brought him a measure of satisfaction.

He continued his petty destruction until he was interrupted by the arrival of his guard, and he allowed the soldiers he’d summoned to disappear. The short column of his personal guard, dressed in a less ornate version of Meztraxia’s own purple and black plate, marched through the rubble. They stopped a few paces away at the order of their commander who strode forward to meet Meztraxia.

“Your messenger said we’ll be taking the centre of the city; but I thought he must surely be mistaken,” Esamion said.

“Oh? And why is that?”

“Because, as I’m sure you’re aware, we’ve yet to finish consolidating our hold on the city.”

Meztraxia nodded. “I’m well aware of that, what makes you think that would influence my decision to attack the centre?”

“I had thought you would prefer to attack with the full might of our army, rather than just your personal guard.”

“Have some faith,” Meztraxia said, chuckling at his subordinate’s sour demeanour, “we few are more than enough. The humans are all but broken, they can’t have more than a few dozen men left in the centre.”

“There’s no way to know for certain how many human soldiers are left,” Esamion said. “Nor what other resources they might throw at us, we’re fighting on their home ground after all.”

“You worry too much; you’ll never advance to the third circle if you let something so trivial check your ambition.” It was a wonder to Meztraxia that Esamion had even reached the second circle, he’d never met such a cowardly Demon Lord.

“I’m merely indulging in exercising a little prudence. I thought one of us should try it; just for a change. And as for the subject of my advancement, we will see.”

“Very well, I have received your objections and I shall endeavour to taunt you with them after our victory.” To Meztraxia’s disappointment, Esamion’s placid expression remained fixed in place. He really was a terrible bore, if Meztraxia had another Demon Lord free to replace him he would’ve done so in an instant. Unfortunately, that would have to wait until he demonstrated to his people that his was the only path to destroying the humans once and for all.

“Then I take you still intend to proceed with this farce? I can’t say I’m surprised, though somehow, I still manage to be disappointed. Will you at least allow your guard time to rest, we’ve only just returned from hard fighting in the western district.”

Meztraxia glanced at the column of soldiers behind Esamion. There was a considerable amount of blood on their dark plate, but their formation was still impeccable. “You can rest once we’re done. Unless you truly think you and yours can’t manage one more scuffle.”

“If that is what you ask of us, then we will endeavour to meet your needs. Even if both the strain and risk are strictly unnecessary.”

“I’d expect nothing less. Form up behind me, we march now.”

Orientating himself toward the city’s centre, Meztraxia started walking. Esamion repeated his order, and the other fifteen members of Meztraxia’s personal guard marched off. They encountered a few scattered demons, who Meztraxia paid little attention to, but there wasn’t a human in sight; at least not a living one.

It was only when they reached the ruins of a stone bridge that crossed the canal surrounding the centre, that they encountered any resistance. An arrow hissed through the air, catching Meztraxia square in the face and his head snapped back, mostly in surprise.

He glared at the shaft protruding from his cheek before grabbing it in his gauntlet and ripping it from his flesh. The wooden shaft came free, but the metal head remained embedded somewhere in his face. Meztraxia sighed, now he’d have to dig it out. But that would have to wait until later.

“Esamion, take your men and hunt down whoever that was.” Turning back to his personal guard, he pointed in the general direction of whoever had loosed the arrow.

“What about you?” Esamion asked.

“I will proceed to their temple alone.” He had no interest in chasing after a lone archer, that was what he had soldiers for.

“Are you sure that’s wise?”

“Not in the slightest, nor do I care. Now get moving.”

Esamion grunted in dissatisfaction, but he did as he was told. The black-armored demons hurried off into the city with their shields raised and swords drawn. Meztraxia hopped nimbly over the canal, despite his heavy armor, and made for the temple.

Alone once more, he hummed a rousing tune as he advanced upon the human’s last redoubt. There were no humans in the streets here either, which served only to confirm his belief that his foes were all but ground to dust. However, he did encounter something in the wide lane before the temple that gave him pause; a contingent of his soldiers lying dead upon the stones.

He didn’t recognize them, probably the troops of one of the minor lords under his command, and nor did he recall having ordered this attack. Therefore, he concluded, it must have been a Demon Lord trying to seize the glory of taking the city’s greatest temple for themselves.

Meztraxia shook his head, if the Demon Lord had only possessed the courage to accompany their soldiers, perhaps they would have succeeded. Now it fell to him to avenge them, along with the vast multitude of demons the humans had killed before them.

Drawing air into his lungs, he bellowed in the direction of the temple. “Foolish creatures, your reckoning has come! There is nowhere left for you to hide, so come and face your destruction!”