The Damned Demon

A hush fell upon the crowd, the silence a heavy shroud as they witnessed a sudden and shocking turn of events that left them breathless.

Then, as if a spell had been broken, cheers erupted from the Bloodburn citizens, their cries a storm of jubilation.

"He... He did it! Hail the Immortal Consort!" The words were a chant, a mantra of awe and respect.

Among the crowd, whispers of disbelief and reverence mixed together in a song of awe.

A Soul Purger defeating a Soul Devourer? This would definitely be recorded in annals of history.

The Umbralfiends' heads bowed low, their shoulders slumping in a collective crestfallen droop.

To see their indomitable general bested by someone so young and thought to be weaker was a sight they never imagined; it was a bitter draught to swallow.

Yet, as Moraxor's gaze swept over the scene, a tinge of pride colored his somber mien.

Turning to Isola, he couldn't help but briefly smile as he thought that her future would be happier than ever. She would be in good and capable hands.

Seeing Asher stand victorious, Isola's lips upturned ever so slightly, her heart finally relaxing, for this must be enough to show that Asher was worthy in her mother's eyes.

She now realized even more why Asher was so desperate to get stronger. Only through strength can he garner people's support and aid in him not only accomplishing his own goals but to build a better world.

Narissara, however, was a storm unto herself, her visage twisted with seething ire.

'Impossible..." she muttered in her mind, wondering what kind of forbidden magic he used to win.

She never expected things to end in such a sudden, anticlimactic fashion when it seemed Vraxos was about to win.

Not only did he petrify Vraxos, but then went on to seal his mana circuit before punching him in the chest.

This alien…Just what was he? She found herself unable to comprehend such an existence with abominable abilities.

She only felt even more vexed upon hearing the waves of the sea thrashing about and seeing the young guardian, Callisa, floating in the sea and snapping her giant pincers together in glee and excitement.

He has even led astray their young guardian to this extent. Was all hope truly lost?

On the outside, Rowena's expression was still calm and collected.

However, her crimson eyes were shimmering with astonishment and pride to see how easily Asher defeated a mid-level Soul Devourer.

She never expected his strength to be so staggering while facing Vraxos.

Nobody else with the same level would have survived against Vraxos, and she had no doubt she was witnessing the rise of the strongest demon in this era.

His display of strength here surely would lessen any disagreements when he becomes the king.

He could create a better future for their realm.

Could he be the next Devourer?...It was a question which not only her but most of them standing here wondered.

The quiet murmur of the crowd shifted as Rowena stood, the authority of her position casting a calm over the unrest.

Her voice, when she spoke, carried the weight of her station, "We have witnessed a duel of historic measure," she began, her gaze sweeping the stands, "Both have fought valiantly and thereby, I declare-."

But before she could formally declare the victor, a harsh coughing drew all eyes back to the arena.

Vraxos, beaten but unbowed, pushed himself upright, his frame shaking with the effort. Blood stained his lips as he met Asher's gaze.

Rowena's expression tightened, a frown creasing her brow as she observed Vraxos.

The general's proud stance was betrayed by the slight slump of his shoulders, the haggard rasp of his breath. With shaky resolve, he lifted his mace, a gesture of defiance even as his body screamed surrender.

Asher was astonished to see him trying to stand again. Just based on the severity of his injuries, he should have been out of commission for at least a few hours.

This only made him realize how strong the will of this general was, and he was impressed.

Asher seemed to blur into motion, a shadow that danced across the sands to intercept the wounded figure, "General," Asher said, his voice low and steady, "this isn't the way. You've fought with honor. There's no shame in yielding when the fight is truly over."

Vraxos' eyes, still burning with a warrior's fire, met Asher's, "I... cannot fall... not yet," he ground out between labored breaths.

Asher narrowed his eyes as he could guess what was going through Vraxos' mind.

He reached out, his hand coming to rest on the general's back, "If you believe you're upholding your people's pride and honor, know that sometimes the greatest strength is shown through acceptance, not resistance."

Vraxos' gaze faltered, confusion clouding his features, "What...do you mean?" he demanded.

Asher's voice took on a softer timbre, "You fight for honor, for duty, but your heart is elsewhere. To wed the princess when you love another is a different kind of fall — one that betrays your own heart and betrays hers as well."

The general's eyes widened, his pained expression giving way to shock. How does he know?

"And what of your princess's happiness? She, too, deserves a life filled with genuine love, not obligation. Trust that she will find happiness where her heart truly lies. I promise you, she will."

Does he...

Vraxos' brows raised in realization and bafflement as he looked at Asher.He couldn't believe the princess truly held such feelings.

No wonder…it all made sense now.

His gaze, now stripped of its intensity, shifted to the princess. Her anxious eyes held a story of their own, a silent plea for understanding that seemed to echo Asher's words.

He had known her since she was born and saw how she lived her life.

Living to die one day for the sake of her people, including him. He had always felt guilty and wished for her to live a better life and shoulder her burdens.

He thought he could do that if he married her. But now, hearing this consort's words, he felt as if he wasn't seeing things clearly.

Does she really deserve even more unhappiness after all that? He couldn't bring himself to even imagine her living like that.

With a shuddering breath, Vraxos's grip on his mace loosened; the weapon fell to the ground with a dull thud, the sound resonating through the silence. His shoulders dropped, the weight of countless burdens seeming to lift.

The throngs of people erupted into applause, the sound rolling like thunder through the arena.

Asher stood poised and composed, while Vraxos remained knelt, his weapon abandoned. The murmurs swirled among the spectators, each person trying to guess what powerful words had been exchanged to cause such an unexpected surrender.

The umbralfiends were most shocked as they knew their general would only surrender if their king or queen demanded it.

What could the bloodburn consort have told him to make him admit defeat like that?

Narissara's eyes were narrow slits of fury, darting from the fallen general to the man who had bested him. She wondered what kind of twisted words that brat said to her general to make him admit defeat.

Vraxos would never abandon his duty like this.

Vraxos, however, remained silent, lost in the weight of his decision and the newfound peace it seemed to bring him.

From the stands, the cheers of the Bloodburn citizens filled the arena, their voices carrying their admiration for Asher.

Amidst the din, Narissara's mind reeled as she thought about her daughter's fate, 'A secret mistress... An affair with an enemy,' her thoughts were like venomous snakes writhing in her head.

She cast a quick, accusing glance at Moraxor, who was patting Isola's head, a serene smile on his face that only served to stoke her anger.

"Did you know?" Narissara spat quietly, not wanting to cause a scene yet unable to contain her suspicion.

Moraxor's eyes flicked to hers, still shining with that same unfathomable calm, "What I knew doesn't matter," he mused, almost philosophically, "Sometimes, the heart must lead where the mind cannot follow."

Narissara's eyes shook, unable to believe the father and daughter duo was in on this together. How could he betray her like this?

Before Narissara could probe further, Rowena's voice, clear and authoritative, cut through the noise, commanding instant silence, "This afternoon," she declared, "I will make a pronouncement of great import. Moraxor, Narissara, your presence in the court is required along with your daughter."

The way Rowena looked at them, her gaze sharp and discerning, suggested that the forthcoming announcement would be very important.

Whispers and speculations bubbled up around them as the crowd began to disperse, each wondering what kind of important announcement it would be for the queen to personally declare it like this. And how were the umbralfiends related to it?

Moraxor and Narissara looked at each other, the same confusion etched on their faces.

But they had an inkling that it had something to do with their daughter, and that made them feel a sense of anxiety. There was no telling what was going through the Bloodburn Queen's head.

However, since Isola trusted Asher and Asher didn't tell Isola anything yet, Moraxor felt there may not be any reason to worry.

But Narissara only started to worry even more. Did the bloodburn queen learn of her consort's affair with Isola? Was she planning to execute Isola as punishment?

Her cold eyes narrowed sharply as she felt it was time she took matters into her own hands.

Moraxor watched Narissara's rigid back as she prepared to depart from the bustling arena.

"Narissa," he called out, his voice resonant with the weight of recent events, "Where are you bound?"

She halted, her shoulders tense. Without turning, she replied, her voice a cold wind cutting through the air, but only for his ears, "There is nothing left for me to witness here. You have sealed the fate of our people, and it wouldn't have changed even if that alien wasn't our enemy."

Her words stung, for they carried a truth Moraxor could not deny. Asher's alien heritage made the prospect of a union with Isola tenuous at best.

Yet, Moraxor clung to a sliver of hope, bolstered by the mysterious perfect compatibility between Asher and Rowena, "We must believe in the strength of bonds, Narissa, not just bloodlines," he called after her, but she didn't respond.

With a heavy heart, he turned to find Isola. Her eyes, full of complex emotions, met his. They shared a silent sigh upon seeing Narissara leave with bitter feelings.

An hour passed when Asher was waiting inside the Whispering Cove, a place the people of the Naiadon Tribe had built for him to hold meetings in privacy.

He was waiting for a certain someone, and as a feminine figure with a dark, cold aura emerged from within the entrance, Asher rose, a subtle smile playing upon his lips, "Queen Narissara," he began, with a respectful nod, "I wonder what kind of urgent matter you wanted to discuss with me."

Oh? What is she planning? :#