The guards backed away until their backs hit the large double door behind them. Terror and duty flickering in their eyes.

To them, after watching the gruesome spectacle where Mors had 'obtained' the Black Heart's location, a scene that would give even the hardiest warrior nightmares, on the viewing stone, Mors was like the embodiment of their worst fears.

The men took deep breaths as they looked at each other nervously as they tried to gather their courage.

"We will ne..*SPLAT*." The guard with the most ornate armour, most likely the captain, was cut short as a pitch black spike appeared from his shadow and pierced his chest.

Mors' heavy footsteps didn't even pause, and his cracked, oozing skin made his form even more terrifying. "A black scythe or black spiked chains with sickles on the end... taken from me... Where. Are. They."

"So... you're the demon that escaped the angels." An older man steps forward holding a weird silver medallion with two feathered wings engraved on it. "The moment the Sacred Temple know you are here, you are as good as dead."

Releasing a lighthearted laugh, Mors continued forward. "I have already dealt with that problem, and I have to say... I was quite disappointed in their combat ability. It seems they were only good at deception and surprise tactics."

"LIES! You can.." Just like the guard captain, a black spike formed from the man's shadow, piercing his heart and killing him instantly.

 "I have no need to lie to dead men," Mors' words, though gentle shook the guard's very souls.

The remaining guards pressed themselves against the door behind them as some began to hyperventilate, realising they were nothing more than mice before a tiger, the difference in strength was too great.

All of them would have been shocked to find out that Mors was only around a three star Duke and the strength he was currently exhibiting was completely down to absorbing and utilising the energy from the environment he had cultivated.

Even more shocking, was that even with surplus amounts of energy, Mors's skills and abilities were not even half as powerful as they should be. This was because Mors's body was preparing for his evolution causing the cells in his body, as well as the mana, to fluctuate significantly making it extremely hard to control.

As Mors reached the three-quarters mark in the room, A young guard with deep blue eyes stepped forward after taking a tentative look at him. "Sorry guys... My wife just had our little one, and I can't die pointlessly... Demon, it's in the last storage room at the end of the armoury. It's the only one on the back wall."

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Mors revealed a warm smile. "You know... I have given the option hundreds of times, if not thousands, and yet, no one has ever taken me up on it, always preferring death and honour... Have you given your little one a name yet?"

The young man forced a smile. "Hannah.... Hannah Dewflen. You're going to let me go?"

"Congratulations and of course. Don't drink any water or eat any food from the city, it's poisoned. The least affected area should be the slums so that might be the best route to travel... where is your family?" Said Mors as he prepared for the worst answer.

The guard's expression had become better, and he wiped the sweat from his brow. "This morning, when the first explosions happened, I saw them out of the northern gates before reporting for duty. They should be travelling to my wife's parents in the southern villages."

Mors relaxed his grip on the bastard sword. If the guard said that his family was in one of the areas Mors targeted he would have killed him without a second thought in order to leave as few embers of revenge as possible. Mors lifted his arm and pointed to the doorway behind him. "Go!"

Mors chuckled, though the pain and anger that seethed beneath him, he was surprised to find himself relatively calm and detached from the situation.

Not even giving his comrades a glance, the man broke into a run and disappeared out the door behind Mors, who was now only a meter away from the rest. "Now then, I am afraid the rest of you are in my way."

The clash of metal rang out of the guard room followed by a few screams before silence once again fell.

Pushing the door open and stepping over half a body that had been leaning against it, Mors walked into an enormous room. Weapons of every type hung on the walls or in crude wooden racks and barrels of military grade crystals and tables littered the centre.

Walking through the room, Mors was surprised at the quality and quantity of the weapons. Massive heavy swords, easily twice the size of him, Giant black tipped spears that looked like they could penetrate anything stupid enough to stand before them and even some items that looked strangely similar to guns were scattered around on some tables. Blueprints and handfuls of crystals next to them. -"I guess it won't be long until this world has its own... industrial revolution."

Mors briefly stopped at a couple of barrels of red and yellow crystals. -"What idiot put these next to each other. I know very little about transmission crystals but after last night, even I can tell this is a very bad idea."

The hall was so large that it took Mors a few minutes to cross it and stand in front of the bolted wooden door at the far end. -"I guess I should have asked if there were any traps..."

Just as Mors' hand was about to pull the bolt back, a beast like a shout resounded behind him. "So you're the man everyone's talking about?"

Mors let out an irritated sigh as he slowly turned around. "Sorry wrong species.... Only demon here... go look for your man else where."

Standing in the centre of the room was a large man with a lion's head carrying two long curved swords. Covering his chainmail armour was a bright yellow tabard with a lion fighting a dragon which, when Mors saw it, caused him to snigger.

Mors' reaction clearly annoyed the man. "Whats so funny? scared witless just by the presence of the Pride Mercenaries."

"I just find it funny how fate or, I guess in my case, circumstance works... now I guess you wanted something other than discussing your group's aesthetic choices or how foolish it would actually be for a lion to fight a dragon one on one."