Page 115 of Fated to the Demon Lord

Throk’s hands shook, and he whimpered as he unsheathed his sword. His jaw was nearly destroyed. He turned and struck off the heads of the two leaders. Their spirits rose from their bodies, and Throk also cut them down.

Then he dropped to his knees as the blood ate away at his hair and flesh of his head, and then the bone started to fall away, slowly melting and turning to ash.

I fought past the pain that threatened to overcome me and locked my knees to keep myself standing. “Name Vaelor the leader of the entire Spiritu Malignos army, and your successor.”

Throk fell on hands and knees, his body shaking. The blood had traveled down to his throat and up to his eyes, where they bulged unnaturally, his own blood running out of them and a horrible hissing sound had him screaming. What was left of his lips trembled as he somehow forced out, “I name him… the leader of the armies…” He released another scream, his hands gripping his throat which was being burned away. “ … and my successor. Now, please… make it stop.”

I walked up to him with the sword in my grasp. Every movement hurt from the pain they had inflicted on my body, and the blood draining from my wounds made me light-headed.

“I cannot stop it,” I said to him. If I called back the power, it would claim my own life. “But I can relieve your suffering.”

“I… I beg you… end me.”

I lifted the sword and something like relief showed in Throk’s gaze. ”Please…” he rasped.

“Give Vaelor permission to dispatch your spirit.”

“I give permission. You may… end… my spirit.”

My grip tightened on my weapon. My blood glistened on the blade, red and glowing and burning. I brought it down on Throk’s neck.

His head fell to the dais. His body collapsed onto the wood. A moment later a spirit rose out, and Vaelor grasped the sword from my hands. It glowed blue as he struck into Throk’s spirit.

The ghostly visage dissipated into the sunlight.

Thirty-One

Istood on the dais where Throk had once been, completely bare in front of an army of demons. Blood poured out of my wounds. I didn’t know how much longer I’d remain on my feet.

But the chain of command was broken, and Vaelor now controlled the Spiritu Malignos army.

I looked out at the soldiers. Demons, large and small, stood there, horror and fear on their faces.

They must have never seen anything like my blood spell. I certainly hadn’t.

The sound of flapping wings caught my attention. Creedan took flight, fleeing. My grasp tightened on my sword, wishing I could have done him in as well.

Vaelor stepped forward to address the army. He’d taken the cloth off his wound, though it looked grotesquely present in the middle of his stomach. “You are now under my command. We know that those bound to Spiritu Malignos must swear allegiance to someone.” He faced me as blood trickled over my torso and ran down my leg.

Vaelor dropped to one knee. “So I, Lord Vaelor, vow my utmost allegiance and loyalty to the human Denara of Antioch.” His eyes rose to mine, filled with such devotion. “My lady, I swear to wield my sword in your service until the end of my days.”

I hadn’t expected this. I’d wanted to give Vaelor the power over the army. I uncertainly looked over the demons that I’d been given. It was smart and necessary, what he’d done. If Vaelor swore allegiance to me, a living being, before the Spiritu Malignos leaders in their nation received the news, then they could not simply name someone else as Vaelor’s superior, reclaiming the army. We were now set apart.

And we could use these troops to defend Misophae.

Vaelor rose, albeit slowly. “And as my first command,” he announced. “You will swear to follow Denara, to never raise a hand against her, and to do everything in your power to keep her safe.”

The demons were silent, and I half expected some to fall over and give up their spirits to pain and nothingness rather than agree to follow me. A human. The human who had killed most of them.

A few closest bent the knee. Then those behind followed until it was a tidal wave to the rear of the army. A thousand voices uttered their oaths.

The heat of the sun beat on me, and I swayed on my feet. Vaelor snatched me up into his arms. I relaxed and laid my head on his shoulder. Despite the pain in my body and blood everywhere, everything was right with the world.

“Now,” Vaelor said. “I want the lead medic of this army to meet me at my manor. I require two demons who can fly to a small town called Frezaran and get a demon named Resha and escort her here as quickly as possible. Tell her that she’ll be well paid. And lastly, I command that at least three other flying demons go retrieve that bastard, Creedan.”

It only took a few seconds, and five flying demons came forward offering their services. Vaelor accepted them and ordered the rest of the demons to return to their camp. Then he spread his wings and flew me to the manor.

He burst through the doors and rushed me into the dining room. He brushed any dishes left over onto the floor and settled me there.