Page 63 of The Misfit Mage and His Darling Demon

He swung a fist. Oh, hell no. I commanded a counter, body obedient in the heat of the moment, and braced the strike with two raised arms. Eligos’ metal knuckles tore through my skin.

Reeling back a fist, my body followed suit and swung. I wouldn’t go down this time. I wouldn’t let my shock distract me. I didn’t care who Eligos was once upon a time; all he was now was a threat to my life, my future, my love—Wally.

The two of us clashed back and forth. Whether from exhaustion, lack of control, or fading essence, my body struggled to land as many blows as Eligos.

“This isn’t like your world, Beelzebub.” Eligos punched my side, breaking several ribs, then whipped behind it and kicked my body in the back, knocking it to my knees. “You have no claim here. Without your domain of Hell, you obviously lack your full fury. For centuries I cultivated the perfect plan, biding my time, waiting for a weakness to present itself.” He kicked my body again and again, forcing it to yield beneath his heel as he stomped over and over, bloodying his boot.

“Bez,” Wally’s voice called out, “I won’t leave you. Not ever.”

What? I considered returning to Wally, getting an explanation behind the cryptic words yet comforting tone. No. I needed to return with a win. Needed Wally to be safe.

“When that feeble magus captured you, I wanted to strike then, tear the Collective asunder, but that damned Fae claimed it’d incite a war.” Eligos continued kicking, breaking bones, unleashing lifetimes of rage unto the wrong foe. “It didn’t matter. You laid waste to the mages and their city anyway, all with the help of your murderous psychopath misfit mage. Thatdespicable filth, undeserving of all the world gave him and other mortals.”

“What?” I roared, fuming with fury. He had the audacity to speak ill of Wally, speak lies on his name, paint a phony legend over the kindness Wally wanted to give the world.

My body sprang back in a blur, fully synchronized with my will, unfazed by Eligos’ attacks. Now, that fucking knight would die.

The two of us sparred, his moves still too quick to counter, so I didn’t waste the effort. I was Beelzebub’s personal punching bag for eons; I could handle a few hits from an ignoble knight. Eligos swung a fist, and I finally managed to grab ahold of his arm, pinning it between my bicep and battered torso.

Now would be a great time for a headbutt. I sighed. I missed having a head. Missed having a fully functional body. No matter. I blocked his other arm, willing my body to squeeze the armor until it cracked. Eligos focused his essence on restoring his precious suit, and I used that fraction of a second to punch him in the head, knocking his helmet clean off his shoulders. But Eligos had already retracted his head to hide deep within the confines of his armor for protection. Gah—we looked like fucking fools, two headless demons dueling it out.

And over what? He wanted to punish Beelzebub for leaving Hell? Newsflash, he was trapped, rotting away, and I needed to make sure it stayed that way.

I commanded my body, having it keep a firm hold on Eligos’ arm I’d pinned, then made the body flip over the knight, tearing his arm off in the process. He bellowed, furious shouting from within the suit as his body thundered inside the metal, and tendrils whipped chaotically, searching for the lost limb.

“Sucks losing a piece of yourself, doesn’t it?” I cackled, instructing my body to lift the arm, and beat Eligos with his own armored limb.

Again. Again. Again. I pummeled him. Metal clanked, cracking against each other. Once I created a solid chink in the back of his suit, I’d punch a hole through it and rip him out. No hesitation. No sympathy. No reminiscing. I seethed with rage, unleashing all my hate, my power, and my will to survive. I’d tear him to pieces, reclaim the villa, kiss Wally, find Mora—yell at her for being so unprepared, and maybe hug her—then…

I gasped, feeling my tether to my former host body snap.

A lance protruded through my stomach, impaling me like a fucking shish kabob. The feathered Fae lifted it high, holding my flailing body no longer answering my willpower, my orders.

“Thank you, brother.” Eligos struggled to his feet, retrieving his lost arm and reattaching it. “I knew the honor among demons was always stronger than the fear of devils. We are bonded now, family in belief and convictions.”

“Ha, whatever,” the demon dressed as a feathered Fae said with a laugh. “I always wanted to gut Lilith, the vile old shrew. Guess killing this second-rate devil is a close consolation. Who is he exactly? I don’t recognize the essence.”

“Beelzebub, and his essence is altered from bonding with a mortal mage. Weakened most likely,” Eligos explained inaccurately. “And we can’t kill him. We must harness the essence, cultivate it, and with it—we’ll be able to lay claim to all Hells, raise armies of our brethren seeking freedom, and kill devils undeserving of their titles or realms.”

“Even Lilith?” the feathered demon asked, lowering my limp body.

“Every devil.” Eligos grabbed the lance from the demon, who didn’t resist, and then he dragged my body to the edge of the railing.

With a wave of his hand, Eligos telekinetically removed all the wires that had been attached to the six orbs and rewired them to the lance. My body thrashed, anguished, and suffering.Even without the link to the rest of my essence, the suffering and pain were clear.

“What are you doing?” the demon asked, which I wanted to know too, holding tight to every snapping thread that kept my mind here.

“I’ve connected Beelzebub’s devil essence to the ship,” Eligos said. “Once I’ve retrieved all his essence, I’ll be able to tear through time and space and use this vessel to attack other devils with the strength of one. Armies of Diabolics will rally behind us as we usher in a new era, one without devils.”

“Oh.” The feathered demon had a flabbergasted expression, either not understanding Eligos’ impassioned drive or not caring, as few demons bothered with such irrational sentiment. “So where is the rest of the devil at? A head can’t be that hard to find.”

“I’m less concerned with his missing head, more so with the fiendish mage who fled with it,” Eligos said. “I’ve sent another to retrieve the mage—alive.”

“Boring.”

“Necessary. If the mortal dies, so will Beelzebub.”

The feathered demon’s sapphire irises shimmered, and the sky-blue of the sclera around them widened with delight. “A dead devil?”

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