Azure Scepter

Page 74

Trier suppressed his forced sneer, unsure if his words had had the desired effect.

The brand on the succubus's face is a blasphemous gift bestowed upon her by her demon lord, and the glowing of the blasphemous gift means that a powerful demon lord is watching this place through this succubus!

Logically, the person watching here should be the lesser demon lord worshipped by the demon worshippers, and this lesser demon lord has a blood feud with Losevie.

The reason Trier did not choose to befriend the lesser demon lord after noticing his gaze was simply due to the nature of demons—it is meaningless to speak nicely to demons; on the contrary, it will make them feel that the person who speaks nicely is weak and easy to bully. This rule also applies to succubi.

The only language demons understand is violence, and blatant threats and displays of violence are considered noble virtues by them.

"I hope that lesser demon lord understands what I mean," Trier thought to himself.

At this very moment, somewhere in the bottomless abyss.

The sandalwood window frame is inlaid with six layers of glass in different colors, and through the pearl curtains, the scorching red sky outside can be faintly seen.

This is a spacious, enclosed room on a high floor, with the walls made of a single, seamless, curved piece of jade.

At this moment, the sixteen soul lanterns made of human skulls on the ceiling of the room were swaying slightly. With each sway of the skull lanterns, the crystalline flesh pillars supporting the room would emit a blush-inducing groan.

The carpet in the room was made of a very strange material, so slippery that it made people uneasy. On the carpet were amber ornaments of amber color, with swirling colored light swaying erratically. On the coffee table were piles of exquisite pastries and an endless supply of fine wines.

Wine bottles and amber ornaments reflect the image of an extremely luxurious bed.

In the center of the room was a large crystal bed with carved wooden patterns, its cold, deep blue crystals filled with thorns made of iron blades and red rose petals.

A succubus sat languidly on the large bed, her face flushed with deep dimples and purple eyes that always burned with intense lust. At this moment, her lips were slightly upturned, holding a faint smile. Beside her hooves, painted with black nail polish, crawled several withered elves, dwarves, and orcs.

This succubus is the mistress of the Thorn Maidens, a former lesser demon lord, and now a demon lord, known as "Lady Bloodthorn".

At this moment, the succubus lord was staring intently at the silver magic mirror in front of the bed, which reflected Trill.

"Him? It doesn't deserve it. Can it even handle Lothaway?" Trier's sneer echoed in the room.

The Bloodthorn Lady's smile deepened. She instinctively hugged the dying, wounded newborn Dream Demon beside her, crushing its bones in the process. The Succubus Lord bent down and lightly kissed the corpse before turning over and resting it on her smooth arm.

It gazed at the silver magic mirror, its eyes slightly pleading, and gently licked its red lips.

A moment later, the succubus lord, who possessed divinity and some divine qualities, learned some information through the relevant domain.

"Interesting." The succubus lord chuckled. "But will you be able to save your lover in time? How... intriguing."

Lady Bloodthorn knew very well that this strange paladin could not possibly arrive in time, even if the paladin could teleport like a demon—the distance was simply too far.

The succubus lord clapped her hands and summoned a new magic mirror, which reflected the still-battle-filled upper city.

Then she parted her red lips slightly and whispered to the Balrog in the Prime Material Plane: "Kill that elf named Fytia at all costs, my dear Rosat, well, no, it would be even better if we could capture her and torture her."

It can communicate with all beings that it has branded with blasphemous rituals, anytime and anywhere.

Immediately, it heard the gruff voice of the Balrog: "That elf has been in contact with your daughter. Your daughter will soon be out of your control. We don't have much time left."

"Whatever, I've changed my mind. I want to see that elf die. Don't disappoint me, Rosate."

Having done all this, the succubus lord slowly spread its black wings, eager to see the amusing paladin's expression upon learning of his lover's death.

Through the magic mirror, it saw the paladin take out a storage stone of frighteningly high quality, and then the paladin crushed the storage stone.

“A futile struggle.” Lady Bloodthorn’s smile deepened. “A group dimensional portal trying to teleport that far? How adorable.”

However, the next moment, its lazy expression suddenly froze.

The paladin and his men actually appeared near the battlefield in the upper city!

What a joke! ?

How can it be? !

Lady Bloodthorn gaped in shock, completely losing any semblance of her demon lord demeanor.

—People who know nothing about magic may not understand the significance of using a group dimensional portal to teleport so far, but Lady Bloodthorn, as a true master of magic, can deeply understand how absurd this is.

Using only a single dimensional portal, one can directly traverse half of Eraf. The incredible nature of this is almost equivalent to a child using a slingshot to shoot a soaring adult red dragon down from the sky!

Moreover, the city of Erlav has a large area of ​​dimensional anchors!

Shocked, Lady Bloodthorn immediately retrieved the records of her worshippers ambushing the enemy, and then she saw the paladin slaughtering all those involved in the operation as easily as cutting melons and vegetables.

"Rosat, forget about the elves! Let's go!" Lady Bloodthorn shouted decisively to the Balrog she so admired.

Chapter 148 The Princess and the Elf (Part 1)

"Clap."

The cold, heavy raindrops pattered against Fythia's eyelids, bringing her back to consciousness.

Fatiya's eyelashes trembled slightly, and then she suddenly opened her eyes.

Before her eyes was a twisted, writhing crimson expanse. Within the crimson, stars shimmered wildly due to the lack of oxygen to her brain. At that moment, Futia felt her head was filled with a deafening roar. The cries and roars around her seemed both close at hand and yet also came from a very distant place.

After a moment of confusion, her fragmented and chaotic thoughts gradually returned to her consciousness amidst the clanging of metal against metal. She blinked and slowly recalled everything.

—A few seconds ago, the powerful Balrog hurled a fireball with tremendous destructive power. Although the undead "Silence" shielded him from the fatal blow, the shockwave from the explosion still threw him out and rendered him unconscious for a few seconds.

Futia slowly rolled over, every muscle and nerve in her body groaning in pain, the radius bone on the front of her forearm cracking. She gritted her teeth, pushed herself up abruptly, and looked straight ahead.

At this moment, she was in the ruins of a chaotic corridor. Not far away, a towering tower was burning fiercely, the intense flames were incredibly intense, and the menacing waves of flame even tore through the rain and clouds. Through the clouds, she could vaguely see the silver moon behind the dark rain curtain.

The firelight from the tower made the Balrog's arrogant figure appear even more distorted and terrifying, and the air was filled with the smell of burning meat and the nauseating aroma of cooked meat fat.

"Snapped!"

The powerful fire demon swung its multi-sectioned chain whip with a deafening roar that shattered the sound barrier, and countless bizarrely shaped, twisted demons surged forth from the golden vortex beside it. They roared as soon as they stepped out of the portal, charging towards the still-resisting guards.

Futia knew that this was the supernatural ability "summoning demons" possessed by almost all abyssal demons. While she was thinking, more demons poured out from the twisting and swirling golden vortex beside the Balrog.

She took a deep breath, the hot, salty air filling her mouth and nose. Enduring the pain, she slowly looked away.

Then, Futia was surprised to find that the undead "Silence" that had withstood the fireball of the Fiery Demon was still standing—its iron mask had completely melted, and through the burned mask, one could vaguely see "Silence's" bluish-green pointed ears.

"Silence was also an elf in life," Futia murmured to herself, feeling her thoughts becoming clearer as she spoke.

She slowly lowered herself, hiding in the shadows of the ruins, and after making sure no one was watching her, she slowly looked around.

The ruins were littered with corpses lying in pools of blood and flames.

The headless corpse of a heavily armored infantryman; a bewitching demon with its throat pierced by a broken halberd, lying beside the fragments of a statue's base; a dream demon covered in crossbow bolts, resembling a hedgehog; a paladin of the Holy Judgment Knights, his chest and head pierced by several enchanted spears, yet remaining kneeling until death.

Blood had almost soaked every once-pristine white brick in the garden, and every piece of armor and weapon fragment on the ground was stained with gruesome gore. Broken flagpoles and banners submerged in pools of blood silently testified to the ferocity of the battle.

Fythia gripped the base of a pillar, took a laborious step forward, and retrieved the longbow from the pool of blood. The pungent smell of blood mingled with the sulfurous odor of the flames and the pervasive pain, making her feel dizzy.

"Hang in there, Futia, they need your help, you can do it," she encouraged herself in her heart.

She looked around the battlefield again, and this time she suddenly made a new discovery.

The number of demon casualties in the sneak attack seems to be far greater than that of humans?

Fatih frowned in confusion, but the next moment, she understood everything completely.

This is the upper city of Eraf, arguably one of the most heavily guarded areas in the entire southern duchy. With the addition of the kingdom's survey teams stationed here, the individual combat strength of the soldiers here far surpasses that of the "Demon Rift," a region constantly battling demons. Moreover, among the human kingdoms, the Orko are renowned for their bravery and skill in battle, so it seems perfectly normal that these demons are no match for them.

"Swing our spears until the shafts break, raise our shields until they shatter!" shouted a knight in a silver helmet.

Fythia turned her head to look, and was then astonished to find that the surviving guards had already rebuilt a loose defensive line on the ruins on the west side of the garden. Although almost all of them were wounded and the death toll was well over a quarter, these elite professional soldiers still looked extremely calm.

She subconsciously recalled the great battle in Beaver Town, and after a moment's comparison, she had to admit that the fighting skills of the Beaver Town militia were simply not in the same league as the soldiers before her...

Moreover, more and more alert soldiers are pouring in from the direction of Longwen Pass. Every minute and every second, the battle situation is irreversibly tilting in the favor of humanity.

Even the strongest Flame Demon couldn't possibly face so many well-trained soldiers at the same time.

"Run? Absolutely not!" the Balrog suddenly roared in the Abyss language, its voice booming like thunder. "I'm not afraid of any paladins who can teleport! They all must die!"

Although the Balrog spoke the language of the Abyss, Futia had mastered this complex language under her mother's tutelage at a very young age. Therefore, she understood the Balrog's roar and realized that the Balrog had activated the spell-like ability "Blasphemy"!

"Words of Blasphemy" is a relatively powerful spell that requires a priest who can cast at least 7th-level divine spells to cast. This spell can kill weak beings instantly, while others who are lucky enough to survive will be weakened, paralyzed, or stunned!

Fatiah felt a tremor in her frontal lobe, but the next moment, she returned to normal.

Although Futia was extremely weak at the moment, she was only in a daze for a moment before being immune to the effects, but the soldiers who were fighting hard did not have this ability.

"boom!"

Suddenly, the bulging muscles of the fire demon slammed into the ground, its black wings flapping wildly, causing a shocking crack to appear in the earth. Its massive, blazing body left a trail of afterimages, and a whirlwind of burning debris swept through the loose ranks of infantry.

"boom!"

With a dull thud, the air surged and burst apart, as if space itself was being torn apart!

The silver-armored knight, who had just been shouting, hadn't even had time to lower his kite-shaped shield when his chest suddenly caved in. His heavy body flew backward like a cannonball, crashing into the still-burning stone wall, scattering rubble and blood all over the ground.

Before the knight's mangled body even hit the ground, the enraged fire demon suddenly lashed out with its whip. The multi-sectioned chain whip coiled around the silver-armored knight like a giant python, and the bursting flames instantly engulfed him.

"Mortals, die!" the Flame Demon roared furiously. It swung its whip like a meteor hammer, lashing out at the silver-armored knight with a powerful cleavage. Amidst the sickening sounds of flesh tearing and bones breaking, the already loose infantry ranks were thrown into complete chaos by the rain of blood.

"Kill!" The killing brought fury, and the electromagnetic aurora around the Balrog became even more violent. It grabbed the dying knight's head, slammed its knee into the ground, and smashed the knight's head and spine.

The demon horde suddenly crashed into the soldiers' ranks, and the battle instantly descended into a bloody and brutal melee.

Clutching the headless corpse, the fire demon Rosat roared to the sky, then abruptly turned its head to search for the elves once more.

—Although Lady Bloodthorn told it to run away, it refused. It had had enough of this pointless lurking and wanted a thrilling battle, a fierce and bloody slaughter, and the harvesting of souls!

kill!kill!kill!

-

"Plop." Warm blood splattered on the back of his hand.

Despite the excruciating pain and intense fear, Futia still raised her longbow, nocked an arrow, and aimed it at the incredibly powerful and arrogant Balrog.

She intended to shoot the arrow directly to save the silver-armored knight, but her severe injuries slowed her movements considerably. By the time she finished aiming, the knight was already a headless corpse.

“You have strength and courage, Futia! Brave elves never abandon their allies!” Futia took a deep breath and then suddenly released the bowstring.

-

The violent arrow shattered the sound barrier in an instant. The Balrog was laughing wildly, but the next moment, the sonic boom arrow hit its open mouth!

Its laughter abruptly ceased, and its massive, heavy body staggered backward as if struck by a siege crossbow! The horde of cowardly and terrifying demons behind the Flame Demon Rosat were instantly crushed into pieces!

The arrow was incredibly powerful, instantly extinguishing much of the rage and euphoria in the heart of the fire demon Rosat—if he weren't far stronger than the average fire demon, this arrow would have been enough to send him back to the abyss!

The fire demon Rosat abruptly shut its mouth, the surging heat from its mouth instantly melting the enchanted arrow. It raised its arm to shield its eyes, then glared at the mortal who had shot the arrow.

It's the elf that came into contact with Lady Bloodthorn's container!

How dare she not run?

She even dared to shoot at the great Balrog commander Rosat?

Arrogant!

The anger that had been extinguished by the heavy blow instantly rose again, and the Fire Demon raised its decapitation sword sharply.

It wished it could immediately shred this damned elf into pieces, then tear its frail soul from its slender, stick-like body and rip it to shreds!

Chapter 149 The Princess and the Elf (Part Two)

The rage, like a roaring storm, empowered the fire demon Rosat, who roared once more, its sound waves almost tangible! The structures around it crumbled instantly, like sandcastles swept away by waves on a beach!

The Fiery Demon, his face contorted with rage, strode toward the elf who was drawing his bow once more amidst the ruins.

The two locked eyes, and the fiery red flames in the Flame Demon's eye sockets, like volcanic eruptions, reflected in Futia's calm and deep blue eyes, like a winter lake.

However, at that very moment, a deep and long horn sound suddenly rang in the ears of the Flame Demon.

The resounding bugle call shook people's hearts, as if it came from a distant and barbaric dark age. The air and rain seemed to resonate and hum in unison. The bugle call even briefly drowned out the clash of weapons and the screams of mortals.

The Flame Demon Rosat covered his injured mouth and subconsciously turned his head to look in the direction from which the horn was coming.

Unbeknownst to them, the metal gate above the north side of the garden had silently opened. Through the rain reflecting the firelight, the Balrog saw the dazzling gleam emanating from the forest of spear tips—behind the gate, countless armored knights had silently assembled and reached their charging positions, and behind the armored knights were even more mounted armed attendants carrying square banners.

The rage of the Balrog Rosat was extinguished instantly. It suddenly realized that the retreat of the guards in the garden was not due to weakness, but that these cunning humans were making way for the heavily armored shock cavalry to charge!

As an experienced demon commander, it knew the situation was quite dire and that it might indeed be time to consider retreating.

"Advance at small steps!" the knight at the front of the column commanded loudly.

She wore a hood, and cold rain slid down and gathered on her fair and smooth chin, then dripped onto her gleaming, engraved plate armor. A spotless silver broad-backed axe-spear was draped diagonally over the shoulder guards of the plate armor, and a bright red flag hung from the sharp tip of the spear.

The bright red flag fluttered in the torrential rain and strong winds.

The Flame Demon Rosat narrowed its eyes slightly, feeling inexplicably that the scene before it was somewhat familiar.

Although the flag appears brightly colored, its crimson hue carries a sense of decay and unsettling antiquity. The scarlet silk is stained with a deep brown, reminiscent of dried blood, while the flag bears a golden dragon emblem outlined in fine mithril and crimson gold threads.

The menacing golden dragon at the center of the flag directly awakened the Flame Demon's long-dormant memories.