Demon Empress

Chapter 5 - Demoness

“It’s so sunny,” Rona complained, raising a gloved hand to shield her eyes. “C’Rus, we’ll finish this quickly and go for something refreshing. The weather is lovely for a boat ride in Dead Men’s Fish Pond.” She turned, throwing a glance back at Qaen. “Don’t you think so, Lusar?”

Qaen bowed his head low. “Yes, Master.”

He could feel C’Rus’ hostile stare on him, but he paid him no heed. He knew of C’Rus’ jealousy of her favour, but he paid him no heed, because he was never alone with the demon without Rona around.

Except this time, this duel — Rona would stand in the ring in the courtyard outside the restaurant. He would be outside the barrier with C’Rus.

He sighed internally.

As much as he felt intrigued by this goddess-like peasant demoness, he also had no faith in her winning against Rona Aluva, the daughter of the Gatekeeper of the Fifth Ring. The duel would end quickly, and it was unlikely Rona would bother with something like sparing her life.

They didn’t have to wait long.

Qaen saw the demoness called Iara saunter out gracefully in a leisurely manner, going to stand in the ring without a second glance back at her husband.

Her husband, on the other hand, seemed slightly irritated and resigned to his fate; he came to stand next to them with an impolite grumble under his breath. “She dares to send me to watch over a damn slave that’s not even hers?”

Qaen bit down on his smirk. His cursedly pretty face had done him a minor favour this time.

Rona shrugged and went to join the demoness in the ring. For her, this duel was nothing more than a warm-up: a nobody demoness was no match against a noble.

Or so it should have been.

The fight began with Rona’s impatient attack. With a bored wave of her hand, she summoned thirty balls of glowering Hellfire, launching them mercilessly at Iara.

Against the Hellfire of a noble, Iara didn’t even flinch. She simply unsheathed a dagger from her belt.

Qaen felt Luc tense next to him. Qaen also felt sorry for her. With a plain demon-steel dagger, what was she wanting to do against Hellfire?

But to his shock, he saw a vicious, cold-blooded smile stretch across Iara’s red lips. Her eyes glittered a dull, dangerous red as she fixed her sights on the Hellfire coming her way.

Then she launched herself off the ground, headfirst towards the onslaught of Hellfire.

Could a Fifth Ring demoness jump so high, so quickly?

Qaen felt numbness spread through his bones, and his fingertips tingled. His entire body trembled as he watched Iara gracefully swipe at the balls of Hellfire, putting them all out in one cut with the plain demon-steel dagger; sinewy strength pumped in her slender limbs, and she flew through the dying wisps of flame didn’t halt at defence. Moving as if she had brought out her wings, she continued on her trajectory at a terrifying speed, her dagger pointed at Rona’s head.

Rona Aluva had no time or ability to react. She found herself staring into the unfamiliar face of the person she had had a meal with. There was no easy-going, oblivious expression on this beautiful face; only a bone-chillingly cold, merciless smile. This face was too close to Rona. If not for the tip of the dagger still glistening only a hair’s breadth away from her brows, she would have scooted back a little.

A cold sweat covered her under her gloves and dress, but she dared not shiver, lest the knife scratch her face. “You… What are you?”

The vicious smirk grew, but the demoness didn’t reply. Keeping her blood-red gaze on Rona, she slowly, tauntingly withdrew her knife.

When Iara stepped away and turned back, walking out of the ring towards where Qaen waited with the two demons, her relaxed, cheerful grin had returned. “She yielded,” she said casually with a cheeky wink. Throwing a look back behind her shoulder at Rona Aluva, she tossed out: “A’Esha was witness. Come undo his collar.”

The beautiful demoness was calm and carefree, but Qaen had seen it all. That brief moment of chilling murderous intent had been very, very real.

Not only him, but Luc had felt it, too.

C’Rus rushed into the ring to help the very shaken Rona Aluva out. “She’s just playing tricks,” Qaen heard him console her as they neared. “Don’t be afraid.”

As colour slowly returned to Rona’s face, fury lit her eyes. “But it was a duel. A’Esha was witness, and now I will have to forfeit Lusar to that lowborn anomaly.”

Iara rolled her eyes. “I can hear you.” She gestured rudely. “Hurry up. Undo his collar.” As Rona begrudgingly obeyed, fuming, Qaen heard Iara continue to her husband: “I told you, it will be fine.”

Qaen heard Luc sigh, but the demon didn’t say anything to argue back. He didn’t seem too fazed — that wasn’t a surprise, Qaen thought, seeing how they were husband and wife.

The Aluva collar that Qaen had lived three centuries in finally clicked open and clang lifelessly to the ground.

Without a collar to restrain him, Rona stepped away hastily with visible discomfort, sticking to C’Rus. “I’m off,” she said shakily, her focus no longer on Iara, but him. “Have fun dealing with a collarless slave.”