482 A Demon's Desire
I was initially on the lookout for soone, but I ended up simply watching the landscape—how it changed due to the effects of war.
The conflicting crowd was so lively that they took my attention in no ti.
There was no joy to be found in war, but extermination had a certain feel to it. It was difficult to resist enjoying it when you were the one on the winning side.
As I watched the Demons get utterly squashed, a feeling of satisfaction perated my heart.
'I shouldn't like this, but...'
If I had to dirty my hands, the best way to do it would be to at least take pride in it. It would be incredibly heavy on any person if they couldn't at least enjoy whatever task they undertook.
I was no different.
As I watched the battle, a blade was launched at from below.
It ca from a bloodlusted individual who had been glaring at for so ti.
Using Spellcraft in combination with Sensory Magic, I was well aware of my surroundings. His attack couldn't catch by surprise.
'I wanted to ignore you if you stayed put, but...'
Fortunately, Gawain was by my side, so it simply took care of the strike for .
"Master, it seems the Demon King is after your head."
Hearing the noble sound of my Automaton always brought joy—even though he was literally stating that soone was after my life.
It was at that mont that my eyes caught the person I was searching for.
As expected, he was on the run.
At that mont, I lost interest in whatever else and decided to give chase—if it could be called that.
"You handle him, Gawain. I've found what I'm looking for."
In a flash, I teleported away from the place and moved for my target.
Perhaps if I wasn't so pressed for ti, I would have fought with the Demon King a bit. But, I found the whole thing pointless.
After all, I wasn't ant to be his rightful opponent.
'I wonder...'
With a smirk, I made my appearance as space distorted.
With right in front of the escaping target, he could do nothing but halt in both shock and desperation.
That only served to make things more interesting for .
"It's been a while... Kyron."
********************
[Monts Earlier]
'I have to get away! I have to get away!'
A certain Shadow Demon was fleeing for his dear life.
If it was a simple soldier, one might have dismissed his fear and understood the cause of his retreat.
However, this wasn't a simple Shadow Demon. He wasn't even a Captain or General.
The fleeing black being was a Demon Lord!
The dark clouds of Miasma at the rear provided Kyron enough cover to slither through the ground like the shadow he was.
Using his semi-tangible form to deflect any attention that ca his way, he sped across the battlefield with haste.
'We can't win! It's over! I have to flee!'
Kyron could not understand why Abellion had chosen not to retreat—not that there was any avenue for that in the first place.
In his opinion, it wasn't cowardly to run. Kyron would do whatever it took to win—to survive!
That was what he stood for.
'This wasn't how it was ant to go! Shit! Shit! Shiiittt!!!'
His ambitions. His grand goal of ruling as an absolute dictator. Everything was going down the drain.
For his plan, he intended the Demon Conquest to go according to Abellion's wishes.
Once they conquered everything, it would only be fair that each Demon Lord would be awarded their respective territories.
With his own patch of land assured, Kyron intended to raise an army—using what he had learned from rearing Demon Beasts, as well as his sly intelligence—building enough power to take over the other regions.
Slowly, but certainly, he would finally attain absolute power and beco the Demon King.
He knew it was possible, which was why he made sure he dedicated every waking mont to this cause.
But...
"Why did this have to happen? Damn it!"
Everything had gone down the drain.
The Demons were going to be killed here, no doubt.
If Kyron stayed, he would encounter the sa fate. That much was obvious. That was why he ran with all his strength.
The only thing keeping him going was the tiny glimr of hope that still failed to leave him. His darkened mind clung to the inextinguishable desire within him, and Kyron's head began generating scenarios where his grand ambition could still be plausible.
'I have to live! They can't follow us to the Demon Continent. The Miasma there is... yes... they won't be able to stand it!'
If he hurried, he could survive and build his strength.
He could formulate a lie that Abellion left the future of the Demon Race in his care.
No one would suspect a thing since the Demon King would most likely die in the conflict.
'The problem is Desgarion. There's no way he'll let that fly!'
Whether he liked it or not, Kyron knew Desgarion was much stronger than he was. In a direct conflict, he would lose badly against the Crimson Demon Lord.
In fact, which Demon Lord wouldn't?
'I can always handle it by drugging him with that special formula... yes. The one Legris sold to in exchange for an extra portion of Miasma...'
That was how he had been able to insure his victory against Kahn—his previous subordinate.
In a fair match, it was doubtful if he would win.
What most people didn't understand was that a fight didn't have to be fair for a victor to be decided.
'If I eliminate Desgarion, I'll be the most powerful Demon around. I'll rebuild the Demon Realm. We'll beco much stronger than before, and then one day...'
The other Races may have gotten a temporary victory at the mont, but Kyron didn't intend on letting that last forever.
'... I'll lead the Demon Race and take over the world!'
That was Kyron's grand dream—his everything.
Reviews
All reviews (0)