I Reincarnated into a GOAT?

Fraz POV (combat horde)

I’m standing here in the middle of my horde, listening to them brag about conquests from decades or even centuries ago-these guys forget that they were less than  nothing a few short months ago. They were once the weakest demons in this dimension.

But I love hearing them brag. Their spirit and unwillingness to quit is what makes them undefeatable. 

Conquest of Ashehall will be complete once the king has completed his spell work in Faeton. Since he has made his home here, the dominant level of Hell will be Ashehall...not Faeton.

Who wants any connections to the Fae in any case? 

They named Faeton, and the damn dumbasses kept that name. 

Like mindless weaklings.

The King is not a weakling, and he is not mindless. His decision to keep Ashehall and sacrifice Faeton is one that will connect all the lower level demons to a common cause. They were the most drastically oppressed.

The King’s reaction to the lowest of us is of course a joke that even they join in on, and a fact that they are able to feel a bit of power from...the King our very ruler is SCARED of them...fear is relative. I doubt he feels any fear in any fiber of his being, but his level of disgust is widely known, disgust or fear..what matters is that they feel a sense of power when they have never had any. 

It may be fabricated, and if he has devised this plan then he is more omnipotent than any of us have ever fantasized about. 

I breathe in deep as I smell their blood lust filling the air. 

It is times like these that I am thankful for my beast heritage. Unlike the destructive twins, I am not just a feline...I am all beast.

I can feel the other generals surrounding the King's manor. His unholy brides, (they are the most powerful demons in this dimension...they have the King wrapped around their little claws, teeth, and tails). We may fear their presence more than the Kings’ and his power damn near makes me piss myself everytime he looks at me.

I couldn’t imagine actually fcking the guy...and we can hear them pleading for it. 

They do not hide their desires like other demonesses.

Akron’s mate is considered a survivor and treated like a shaman. Other low level demons have begun to protect his home when he is away, even going so far as sleeping outside his home. She has become a living relic.

If the King’s unholy brides left their home, they would have plaques and buildings erected in their honor. Damn lunatics.

All of them.

They may not be part of this horde, but those demons will be part of the war. It’s unavoidable. 

And none of us would ever think about denying them the chance for retribution. 

They struggled the most, and lost the most. If one was to listen to their stories...they can’t even remember their familia. 

All of us lost some skills.

They lost all of their skills...so if I was to break it down...these are the OLDEST demons, which means they should be in Faeton, enjoying the luxury of being upper echelon demons and demonesses. 

You’re getting it.

They were the strongest demons when the war with the Fae occurred. The Fae took away everything from them. In turn creating the zombie-like denizens that we see today. To make them evolve is paramount to destroying ourselves. Several demons chose to keep gellos as a form of release, but that also means that they are absorbing more ‘nutrients’ than other females. They must in order to counter the curse and evolve. 

The only gello that has shown any evolution is Akron’s mate, and that is because she mated with our King. His seed not only can increase their evolution, but neutralize the curse and destroy it at its core. 

I can’t see him going around and fcking all the zombie demons just to kill the curse. He really has an aversion to their smell.

Those demons who rose to power did so on their sacrifice, their forced sacrifice, and they have been oppressed by their brethren for six hundred years. So, our King showing any reaction to them is an honor bestowed to them. 

The strongest, most powerful demon has a reaction to the lowest and most despised of our kind. 

Yeah, demons are not known for being humble, but everytime I think about our King, that is how I feel. His actions have humbled me and made me a better demon, a stronger demon.

I can’t wait to bring those “zombdemons” back to their full glory-and based on the feeling that is calling my blood it should be soon now. 

I decide to walk more among my soldiers, the ground should begin to shake soon, and if my prediction is correct, this will be the most powerful quake we have ever experienced, and will experience ever again.

I hope Akron’s bride survives...just kidding, I don’t care. But the low level demons will ensure she lives. 

My mates will survive if they are smart enough. If not, then my celebration will be one sided...or not. There are a lot of gellos, those low level demons still looking for partners.

They really do smell though-and my sense of smell is my best feature.

Maybe my King could mate one for my benefit...Ok, I can admit it, I’m jelly over Akron getting the King to screw his mate. 

I get to the next group of soldiers when the ground begins to rumble. I catch a few of the scrawnier demons and help them back to their feet. Their size has nothing on their viciousness, but the ground is moving faster and harder, making even the most sturdy demons stumble. 

I watch as my troop begins to rely on each other to keep themselves up on their feet.

I watch a few as their smiles slide off and they grasp their stomachs. 

Honestly I can sympathize. This is causing my lunch to roll in my stomachs, all three of them. I force myself to transform to my original form. My claws dig into the hard soil as I dig my horns in deep as well. I know I must look funny, but my soldiers take notice and begin to mimic my actions.

We go from rolling demons almost puking on ourselves to our original forms standing strong. 

Besides, as I see it, those damn Fae would have a sight to behold seeing us all in our original forms instead of looking like the god race, sweet and domesticated (by the way, they are not sweet, though they do define domesticated).

I remember at the last moment to shield the manor further on my side. I fling some spells out as the ground slowly begins to reduce, visible cracks are showing as buildings begin to fabricate in front of our eyes.

We watch as the silver goliaths begin to transform and begin to look more natural. The silver turned to a burnt gold or terra cotta color. The sharp edges smoothing out.

Watching the planet transform to the King's will is an awesome and powerfully frightful experience.

His aura is permeating Hell. 

He has combined all seven levels. I find myself laughing and look around at my soldiers who in turn are also laughing. I pull my horns from the shattered ground and stand tall.

Now we are in a waiting game.

We will either go to the Fae or they will come to us.

No matter what is decided, our troops are in position and the challenge has been issued.

We seven generals will be in charge of the greatest war our kind has ever issued a challenge for. The King has completed his part. We of course would love his participation, but he doesn't need it. 

He has given us so much of his own strength, and now that we have our own fountain of pure magic (that reeks of our King and is very daunting to drink) we have gained more than our past skills, but even added more layers.

We are the greatest we have ever been. 

I look towards the sky. That is where the Fae came from last time, their wings breaking the air barriers and raining down their deathly poisons. I look over at the two potion masters from Tate’s horde. 

At least this time we are prepared.