Page 95 of The Demon Mark

“Only one of us is dying.”

The bravado of this man who had no idea who he was fighting. These performers had been lied to. Their master had told them that Envy was nothing more than a mere man. Perhaps a man who had a lot of strength and power that he had stolen, but in the end, Envy was supposed to just be another opponent they could fight.

He was not that.

“I could keep you,” he murmured, his muscles straining as the performer tried to twist the blades out of his grip. “It would be such a simple spell, and then you would be forced to fight for me until the very end of days.”

“I would never do that.” The performer twisted, pulling one of the blades from Envy’s hands. “And now I’m going to show you what a rock does to mortal skin.”

“It’s a good thing I’m no mortal.”

Envy planted his hand on the man’s flat pectoral and whispered a spell. The deep intonation echoed through his ribs, a song from the old days when the dwarves had sung stone into whatever form they wished. A song he used regularly to move and warp his own home.

The song moved through the stone man like a wave after someone jumped into a pool. He could see the ripple throughout the performer’s entire form. Starting in his fingers, it rolled throughout his entire body until suddenly, all the pieces stilled.

There was a moment where they stared at each other. The performer seemed to hesitate, his lips splitting into a shocked part before all of the pieces started sliding off of each other. One by one, chip by chip, the stone that made up the man’s body cracked and shattered.

Envy watched it all happen, lingering on the moments that he wanted embedded in his memory forever. The shock in the man’s eyes. The way the breath rattled in his chest with one last dying gasp. The first plink of stone hitting the ground before the thunderstorm of all the stone pieces striking at the same time. Envy categorized every single sound before breathing a small sigh of relief.

He bent and picked up the blade the man had tossed, before muttering, “Now where did Orphe get off to?”

He couldn’t sense her in the room, which meant she had left. Why?

But Envy had one purpose and one purpose alone. Find Lilith and get her out of here.

And kill everyone as he saved her.

The shifters stood in his way now. Twin brothers who had morphed halfway into wolves. Their bodies were massive, their chest barreled and covered in fur. They stood eight feet in height, towering over him at their higher vantage point. Drool gathered on their muzzles, dripping down their chins even as their fangs parted to show gleaming rows of teeth.

They were challengers he would have prayed for in the days of his youth. Massive creatures with powerful jaws that were ready to nip and bite and tear.

They could provide a fight that would be both wonderful and difficult. A fight he would talk about for ages, how he fought off two shifters and won. He would tell this story to his creations for years to come.

But not today. Today, he wanted this over and done with quickly.

Muttering under his breath, he gathered more flame upon his blue sword. It crackled with power, nearly turning white with heat as he approached them. His hand hurt, aching from holding onto the rapidly heating metal, but he muttered a spell for that too. The power inside of him flexed, an endless well of stolen power from countless individuals.

They thought they could fight him? Him? The demon king of this land was not an easy opponent to beat.

They knew it too. In the reflection of their dark eyes, he saw their fear. He could taste it in the air as the brothers looked at each other for a moment and seemed to say their goodbyes.

The first one lunged. Its claws dug into the sides of the stone, launching into the air above Envy and coming down with all its weight. He barely even saw it move, just a flash of dark gray fur and claws arcing above his head. But he was ready for it. Holding the flaming sword high, he waited for two things to happen.

First, the shifter who had leapt to the attack would die. Clearly, they had chosen which one of them would do so, and the other would come at him from the side. Second, he dropped his sword from his free hand and send out a spell that caught the other in the chest. The spell scooped out the shifter’s heart as his brother was impaled on Envy’s sword.

They were good fighters. Working together like that would have caught most of their enemies unaware and they might have won. Perhaps they had even used this tactic before. It had clearly once worked for them, but they did not do it to him. Envy had been in countless battles, with thousands of soldiers who had fought longer than they did.

He watched as the two of them died, and there was the smallest hint of remorse that burned in his chest. These men might not have deserved to die. Or maybe they had. He had no way of knowing how much they were involved in this, or how far they were willing to go.

There were still three people surrounding Lilith, though, and he stalked up the remaining stairs to them. They were still trying to get through the mist, Lorenzo cursing and spitting angry words while the other two did what they could.

The woman was one Envy recognized, a priestess who had worked with Lilith when he had first seen her. The other man, he thought, was a magician, which made him far more unpredictable. But Lorenzo? He was just a nobleman, a mastermind with no power of his own.

This was too easy.

The priestess was the first one to notice him. Perhaps the fine hairs on the back of her neck rose, a natural instinct of women who were more used to being hunted in their daily lives. Her eyes widened, and she turned to look at him.

He knew there was a moment where she thought about fighting. A moment where she was certain that she would get away with all of this.

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