Rise of the Lustful Evil Monarch (Re)

Third Person's POV

The wood hissed and groaned as it began to dissolve and bubbled into a sticky puddle of black ooze.

A foul, acrid stench sharp enough to sting the nose, like rotting flesh soaked in acid, filled the air while the hood fell from Erik's head.

He was young, with sharp black eyes and midnight hair.

The twin horns on his head were now soaked in sweat, and his lips, slick with black bloo,d trembled uncontrollably while his expression twisted into one of sheer terror.

He never saw who attacked him, and before he could even scream, he felt a strong yank from the ghastly chain piercing his right lung.

The chain retracted violently and dragged him back like a corpse on a leash.

His scream finally erupted, it was shrill, broken, and filled with agony and terror at the unknown assailant.

It was especially raw as he had never suffered and experienced such a thing in his whole life.

As his body and boots scraped across the floor and his limbs flailed, all heads turned towards the terror inducing spectacle.

Everyone in the tavern, save for Ethan's group, watched in frozen disbelief as Erik was pulled back toward the same person he had insulted moments earlier, toward Ethan.

The other four robed demons jolted, and their expressions shifted from arrogance to raw confusion as they wondered about what had just happened.

Whatever had happened had been too fast, and too clean, with no warning, and they had never expected that someone would dare to attack one of them in such a place just outside the Sanctum.

Above all, an unthinkable question echoed in their minds:

How could someone—some nobody—dare to attack… one of us?

But just as they were thinking this, in the very next second, one of them, the man named Falco, let out a thunderous roar and dashed forward as he attempted to rescue Erik.

His movement was so fast it left a brief afterimage, and it felt as if he were a blur tearing through space.

But before he could reach his companion, the chain's pull abruptly intensified and yanked Erik's flailing body forward with brutal momentum.

To his dismay, the timing of the sudden pull was flawless.

Erik's chained form slammed into Falco mid-charge with a force like a battering ram and caught him completely off guard.

The impact sent Falco flying sideways as his bulky frame crashed into a customer's table near the wall.

The entire table shattered beneath his weight, and wooden splinters and steaming food launched into the air.

Gravy, bones, and bowls went flying as drinks toppled and plates cracked.

The customers at the table who had been silently spectating the fight with quiet glee in their hearts shouted in shock and rage, and curses erupted in multiple languages from their mouths as they jumped to their feet, having never expected themselves to become a part of this shitshow.

Before Falco could even lift himself in anger, a blazing golden-red light flashed in front of him.

A fist, burning with radiant fire and wrapped in searing energy, slammed straight into his face with the sound of thunder.

His head snapped back violently, and a spray of blackish-red blood burst from both his mouth and nose.

Several teeth flew from his jaw and clattered noisily onto the floorboards like pebbles tossed on stone, while his nose crumpled under the force.

His blood hissed ominously as it splashed across the golden-red flame and began corroding the flaming energy, while creating sparks and trails of thick black smoke.

"Tch…What a hard head...As expected of a demonkin..."

The attacker clicked his tongue in annoyance and casually flicked the acidic blood from his scorched fist as the glowing light around it briefly dimmed from the contact.

Falco groaned but forced himself up with staggering determination.

His obsidian-black eyes were now literally blazing with an inner fire as twin tongues of black flames ignited within them and started pulsing in sync with his fury.

His hood fell off in the movement and revealed a long, horse-shaped face.

His expression twisted in rage, but the swollen imprint of a fist on his cheek and the various food items decorating his head only made him look comically ridiculous despite the danger he exuded.

A deep snarl tore from his throat as his fists ignited, not with ordinary fire, but with intense, writhing black flames that seemed to eat at the very air around them.

Then, like a freight train, he charged again, though this time it was towards the one who had struck him.

Victor met his roar with a bright, amused grin. He had deliberately not followed up on his ambush advantage, as it had been a lot of days since he had had his fill of a blood rushing battle.

In his excitement, his scarlet eyes started gleaming like torches as he shook his slightly reddened knuckles.

"Heh. Still standing? Good. Let's play, kid."

With those words, his fists lit up once more, and the golden-red flames surged back, hotter and more vibrant than before.

He rocketed forward to meet Falco's charge, and within seconds, both men burst through the front entrance of the inn.

The wooden door exploded outward as they crashed into the street, with their fists flying, and flames clashing.

Their brawl continued outside, heedless of the shouting pedestrians or the walls beginning to blacken from their fire.

Inside the inn, Ethan gave the briefly chaotic scene no attention as he was busy with in his own business.

With a swift pull, he yanked the chain hard and dragged Erik's broken body closer to him like a sack of meat.

As Falco had been tossed aside, Erik was left helpless as his body was dragged helplessly over the floor while the chain tightened around his chest and lungs.

Yet just as Erik reached Ethan, his expression twisted.

Despite the blood on his lips and the pain contorting his features, a hideous grin broke across his face.