Page 34 of Demon's Prey

The feral demons, initially startled by my arrival, now regain their bravado. Their twisted forms shift and writhe, a grotesque display of misshapen limbs and razor-sharp claws. Ifeel Narina's fear radiating behind me, but I stand firm, my own rage building with each passing second.

One of the demons, its face a nightmare of protruding fangs and glowing eyes, steps forward. Its voice is a guttural growl, scraping against my ears like rusted metal.

"We will not be cowed by a soft noble who lives in a city like men do. We are true demons who live for the slaughter."

The audacity of this creature ignites a fire in my chest. How dare they presume to know me, to judge my worth based on where I reside? I am Dazirus Kal'Vareth, a name that should strike fear into their pitiful hearts.

I speak an arcane word, the syllables rolling off my tongue with practiced ease. The air around my hand shimmers, and suddenly, my Vorpal Blade materializes in my grip. Its obsidian surface gleams in the dim light, hungry for blood.

"I see. Ironic, then that you will die for the slaughter as well,” I say. “And you will die nameless and forgotten, as is fitting of your lot.”

One of the demons lunges at me, its claws swiping through the air where I stood moments ago. I dance gracefully away from the assault, a smirk playing on my lips. The creature roars in frustration, its eyes burning with fury. It attacks again, and again, but each time its claws meet only air. I'm a shadow, always just out of reach.

"Come now," I taunt, my voice smooth and mocking. "Is that the best you can do?"

The demon growls, its attacks becoming more frenzied, more desperate. But it's no use. I'm a noble demon, born and bred for battle. This creature is nothing more than a wild beast, all instinct and no skill.

I watch its movements, waiting for the perfect moment. And then, with a single, precise strike of my Vorpal Blade, I end thedance. The sword slices through the demon's flesh like butter, the obsidian blade glowing with satisfaction.

I drop my guard, a conjured cloth appearing in my hand. I wipe the blood clean from my blade, my movements slow and deliberate. The demon reaches out as if to attack me again, but instead, it falls into two pieces, blood and intestines writhing out like a mass of worms.

"Now you're completely beside yourself," I quip, a chuckle escaping my lips as I watch the creature's remains twitch and spasm on the ground. I turn to the other demons, my eyes gleaming with challenge.

I turn, my satisfaction at dispatching the first demon quickly evaporating. The second feral creature has Narina in its grasp, using her as a shield. My blood boils at the sight of her terrified face, her body trembling against the demon's grotesque form.

"Hand over the sword," the demon snarls, its claws digging into Narina's flesh.

I keep my expression neutral, though inside I'm seething.

"Let go of her first." I demand.

The demon's laugh is a harsh, grating sound.

"I think not,” he says “you noble fool."

I consider my options, my mind racing. I can't risk Narina's safety, but I'm loath to give up my weapon.

"Very well," I say smoothly. "We'll trade at the same time."

The demon hesitates, its beady eyes narrowing with suspicion. Finally, it nods.

I approach slowly, my grip on the Vorpal Blade loosening. The demon pushes Narina towards me, and I catch her in my arms, inhaling her scent mixed with fear and relief. Simultaneously, I release my hold on the sword.

The feral demon snatches it up, a triumphant gleam in its eyes.

"You fool!" it cackles. "Now I'll cut you in half with your own sword, and take your woman for my slave... for as long as she lasts. I tend to wear them out rather quickly."

I stand there, unmoving, my face a mask of indifference. Inside, however, I'm smirking. This creature has no idea what it's dealing with.

The demon's triumph turns to confusion, then anger at my lack of reaction. It lunges forward, swinging the Vorpal Blade in a wild arc. But something's wrong. The sword trembles in its grasp, refusing to obey. Suddenly, it twists, seemingly of its own accord.

In a flash of obsidian, the blade slices through the air and through the demon's neck. Its head topples to the ground, followed by its body.

I step forward, plucking the Vorpal Blade from the air. I wipe it clean on the demon's corpse, a smirk playing on my lips.

"Some people should know to quit while they're still a head," I say.

I turn to face Narina, my victorious smirk fading as I see her wide-eyed expression. The shock in her eyes hits me like a physical blow. Suddenly, I'm acutely aware of the blood dripping from my blade, the dismembered bodies littering the ground around us. The thrill of battle evaporates, replaced by a cold, sinking feeling in my gut.

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