Shula and Malachi were preoccupied with each other, trying their best to one-up the other. In the anti, Akila was busy dispatching the Nexarians left and right, and it was no surprise the Nexarians were losing despite their ambush.
It seed Malachi’s taunts had an unintended consequence, unleashing uncontrolled rage within the Banurs. In the heat of the mont, they cast aside their honour and everything they were once known for.
The Nexarians, who had expected to face an unprepared and overwheld enemy, were surprised to see the ire the Banurs held in their eyes. Things were not going as planned, but they were about to worsen.
A brave noble tried to attack Akila, only for him to duck and sever the man’s head with a smooth and practised motion. The blood marred Akila’s face, but he was hungry for more. These re droplets weren’t enough to quell his anger. Panting, he got up, looking for a new target to hunt.
Just then, Akila was tackled to the ground by a burly-looking soldier. But with his cat-like reflexes, he was back to his feet before any harm could co to him and struck the soldier with all his force.
The axe tore into the man’s shoulder, painting an arc of blood in the air as Akila withdrew the weapon, only to strike him again and again till his torso was severed in half. Not learning the lesson, another fool tried his luck, only to crumple to the ground as Akila severed his windpipe.
Following that, the soldiers halted. No one dared to approach the raging beast in Akila’s heart. But a stare from Malachi was enough to force them to fight, and they ford a circle around Akila, hoping to attack him simultaneously to take him down.
"KILL HIM!" one of the soldiers yelled, and all seven of them charged simultaneously.
Two soldiers surrounded him from the front, two from the back, two from the right and one from the left. The assailants assud that one soldier would suffice on that side due to his shoulder injury, but they were wrong to underestimate Akila.
He broke out of the encirclent with a forceful shove using his injured shoulder to the soldier on the left. But he wasn’t done yet as he swung his axe in an upward arc, cleaving through the soldier’s face, dissecting it in a grueso display of strength.
Despite this, two soldiers who were behind him earlier jumped towards Akila. He hastily ducked, dodging the initial attack, but was struck in the head by one of the soldier’s elbows.
His vision blurred montarily. The Nexarians tried to take advantage of the situation, but Akila quickly recovered, swinging his axe in a wide arc.
The tribals promptly distanced themselves, anticipating the impending attack, but a few Nexarians could not evade in ti.
Limbs were lost, legs were gone, and fingers had been sacrificed to a single attack. They were alive, but Akila had sown the seeds of fear in them, and with that, he had accomplished his goal.
But the hunger for destruction still burned within him. He rose, tearing a scrap of cloth from a fallen Nexarian to wipe his bloodied face. No one dared to challenge him, even in his vulnerable state.
But the silence only lasted a mont when Akila felt sothing tumbling down and hit his feet. He looked down, and his eyes almost fell out of the sockets. It was Shula’s severed head, rolling on the ground.
Enraged, Akila turned around to see Malachi standing there, laughing.
"Go on, pass the ball, I an the head," he smirked. "I thought you were getting bored, so I went through the trouble of getting us a ball to play with."
But instead of replying, Akila grabbed Shula’s head and gestured to one of the others. No soldier dared to attack the man as Akila handed him Shula’s head and instructed him to take it sowhere safe.
"Aw... how am I supposed to play if you get so possessive about a ball?" Malachi taunted again, and this ti, Akila didn’t stay quiet.
"You will regret ever stepping foot on our land."
"Considering your disgusting sll, so would say I already am."
Akila took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, but failed. The outsider had crossed all the boundaries, and it was ti Akila did the sa. Without hesitation, Akila swung his battleaxe towards his chest, and everyone gasped, wondering what was happening.
It was then they heard a crack. While it seed Akila had stabbed himself in the chest, he aid to shatter the locket hanging around his neck.
Malachi raised an eyebrow, looking around. He was hoping for sothing to happen, but nothing did.
"Well, that was-"
*Boom!*
In an instant, everything changed. Akila went from being a dozen feet away from Malachi to standing over him. The commander coughed up blood, holding his stomach where Akila had punched him.
But rely ssing up his guts wasn’t enough, and Akila kicked him in the face. Malachi attempted to block the attack, but Akila’s strength was too much to handle, and he got flung away.
"Allow to demonstrate... the reason behind our tribe’s moniker, the Demonic Tribe." Akila snarled.
Watching the scene unfold before their eyes, the Nexarians, already filled with fear, submitted to the enemies. However, Malachi wasn’t bothered about the tribe’s ’moniker’ and laughed as he slowly got to his feet.
"Demons? You think your weak strength compares to demons?" Malachi chuckled, brandishing his sword. "You’re clueless if you believe you’re on their level."
Like every mber of his corps, Malachi had committed a grievous cri, but unlike them, there was no forgiveness for his cris. His fate had been sealed with a banishnt forbidding him from ever setting foot in Nexaria again.
What was his cri? He had delved into the dark arts, seeking strength from demons that the supposed entities denied him. So, if anyone knew what true demonic strength was, it was him, not so random tribe.
Like Akila, Malachi struck himself as well. But to everyone’s absolute horror, instead of breaking a necklace, he plunged the rapier into his heart.
Despite the blood gushing from his mouth, he maintained a smile, aware that the pain was fleeting and that soon, he would transform into an unstoppable force of absolute destruction.
"Let show you what a true demon is..."
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