Demon's Virtue

Chapter 780 The Lords

780 The Lords

Eiro's palm struck at Krog's forearms as he directed the power of the mountain-breaker into his hand. But of course, Eiro didn't want to use the entirety of that power on Krog, since that could do more damage than he'd like. Krog was still in the middle of learning proper defensive techniques, so Eiro couldn't expect him to be able to block an arcane card's powers yet.

So, instead, he directed a portion of the power toward his hand, and then the rest into his feet to make the power spread thin through the ground. As he controlled it well enough, it didn't really cause any issues with the ground either. A few pebbles were thrown around, but that was the most of it. As for Krog, his defense was broken pretty quickly. The chains wrapped around his arms managed to survive the hit, but Krog's arms were thrown to the side and he was pushed off-balance. He was completely open for a follow-up attack.

"Man, what the hell?" Krog groaned loudly, looking down at his arms, shaking them to get rid of the numbness that he was suddenly experiencing, "Can't you be a little more gentle than that?"

"Wouldn't that completely defeat the purpose? Plus, I held back quite a bit already in the first place," the Demon pointed out, but Krog wasn't buying it.

"Right, you definitely didn't want to just hit me," he groaned, quickly raising his arms back up in front of his body. He quickly adjusted the flow of his mana inside of his body based on what he had just experienced, "We're doing this until I can hold out against it."

Eiro scoffed, "If you say so. But don't complain to me when you break something."

"Have I ever?"

"You usually do, yeah," James responded, and Krog just glared over at him.

"Shut up, you wouldn't even be able to take a scratch of this," the warrior took a deep breath before he looked back at Eiro. The demon smiled lightly, taking a step back to prepare for another strike. Like this, the two of them continued on for a while. A few dozens attempts later, where the need for Eiro to heal Krog's bones did arise a couple of times, the warrior was finally able to actually defend against the attack. Instead of being thrown off-balance like before, with his arms basically exploding outward, Krog was pushed back half a dozen feet, digging into the soil below his feet to stop himself. Nôv(el)B\\jnn

"Yes! Finally!" Krog yelled out, pumping his hands into the air, "That was absolutely horrible... but it was very useful for me, so thanks."

"Don't mention it. It was actually just trying to test out some abilities on my own, and this helped me gain a much better control, so thank you, rather," Eiro said with a smile, approaching the warrior and grabbing the chains around his arms.

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A trail was left as the creature's heavy body was dragging itself over the ground. It approached the large, throne-like chair that was prepared for it, pulling its body onto it with a loud thump.

"Urgh... Lord of the Dretch, please act in a slightly more... presentable manner," a woman with a snake's tail curled around her lifted one of her hands and placed a piece of cloth in front of her face. Two of her other hands were carefully carressing her own tail, while another was focused on her hair. The remaining two were simply crossed in front of her chest.

"Lady... Marilith..." the Lord of the Dretch responded, large globs of drool falling onto the large round table in front of him. He just stared at the woman a few seats away from him, grinding his teeth onto his upper lip as if he was trying to eat his own skin off his face.

"Sorry to interrupt this... oh so wonderful conversation, but it seems all who have chosen to attend are here. Could we got on with it?" a man in a well-tailored suit pointed out, trying to get everything in order. He seemed quite bored to be here, wanting to leave as soon as he could. Though, he was already getting quite distracted by some of the other folk sitting at the table, lustfully staring into their direction.

"Shut your mouth, Lord of the Incubi. If you don't want to be here, you may leave, but don't expect to be saved when that disgusting wretch takes your head right off your shoulders," a figure sat on a seat that seemed almost inadequate for its body. The Lord of the Fiends glared at the other demon lords that had gathered here by his request, "You all have seen the message, have you not? That a new demon lord has been born?"

"So? A new lord is born every couple years. Usurpers of the throne are nothing to worry about. Who was it, though? The lord of the Hezrous is missing... did he finally croak?" the Lady of the Marilith asked with a hissed laugh, but the Fiend Lord growled so loud that it interrupted her and all the other lords muttering amongst themselves.

"No! When has every demon in hell ever been told that a mere Hezrou was slain?! That any of us have been slain?!" he yelled out, slamming his massive, clawed foot onto the ground, "A throne has not been usurped, but a new one has been crowned!"

The lords looked at him with a confused expression, "What mean, new crown?!"

"I mean that a new species of demons has come to be borne! Not from our great Demon King, but some other way!" the Fiend Lord yelled, as his claws dug into the table in front of him, his anger clearly overcoming him, "He has slain my descendant, who has walked the central plane in our stead, and took part of the wastes as his land! And worst of all, he dragged some vile holiness down with him!"