The Slayarians - Book One - JM Barnes (different e readers txt) 📗

“Demons, an army of them!”
There were hundreds and hundreds of demonic beings standing in rigid formation as if prepared to march on an opposing land, but these beings were more uniform than the chaotic denizens of the Abyss that the four companions had seen so far. There was row after row of creatures with rusty red to coal black skin tones and small black horns that seemed to take the same shape for every separate unit. Clearly there were designated companies that bore specific weapon types and special duties.
Standing in front of the army was a nine foot tall, blood red skinned, muscle bound overlord. He carried a whip in one hand and a sword that was so huge in the other that only the largest of humans could have wielded it and then only two handed. It was clad in nothing but leather breaches and its face was bestial compared to its relatively humanoid body. Large ram horns grew from the back of his head and curved forward like a pair of scorpion’s tails prepared to strike. Tusk like teeth protruded straight from his mouth several inches away from his sneering lips. The most disconcerting thing though was his stare. His eyes had no pupils and resembled solid black entropy and when he called for attention fire leapt from those eyes to form a half halo around his head. This they discovered occurred whenever he spoke.
Truly horrified the companions would surely have run away, if not for the fact that they were gripped with fear and stunned into immobility. Escape of course would have been unlikely so Darkon silently thanked Throngaer, the Demonslayer God of storms and lord over emotion, for the fear that stopped them from fleeing. They therefore only stood and waited for the great creature to speak and condemn them to their fates. As it did so they instinctively flinched expecting explosive anger announcing their immediate deaths. Instead, the frightening, diabolical thing calmly snarled through its mouthful of sharp teeth.
“Greetings, travelers, it appears we have happened upon each other in the dark. I am the general of this mighty force and I must admit that I am surprised to see the likes of you four here in the Abyss.”
Finished speaking he seemed to be awaiting a reply, a reply that was not coming as the four shocked mortals could only stare in awe and fear. The general seemed amused at this and took no offense at all. In fact he was reassured by it. It had been a long time since Dreunivor Tivnilve’ had encountered mortals. Darkon was glad that the thing seemed willing to talk and he was now almost positive this was no demon. Evil incarnate, perhaps, but something other than demon. Yet still the bubbling warmth he felt had not abated.
Finally Darkon found the words he could not find a moment ago, “I am Darkon the Demonslayer and these are my friends, we meant no disrespect or harm to you.”
The general’s eyes widened at this for he had thought he was going to be forced to march his army right over the four befuddled mortals. Then to find one was a Demonslayer! What an eventful day this was turning out to be.
Seeming unsurprised the creature spoke calmly and confidently. “Good then, I chose the correct dialect, let us converse for a moment, Demonslayer.”
Sheathing his great sword the towering general rested on one knee upon the ground while signaling to his lieutenants to tell the troops to rest as well. At once after the order was relayed, the great horde relaxed. The clamor was enormous as hundreds set down weapons and sat down at once. Waiting several minutes before the noise decreased the four companions began to relax as well. After Darkon's reassurances they began to realize that the situation was not nearly as dire as it could have been. If these were demons, they knew they’d be filling bellies right now. Only Galen would not sit and rest, swearing he would not be slain without at least one swing of his magical blade. Dreunivor paid the mortal no mind, understanding the affect his presence must have had on the mentally weak creatures.
“Now, where was I?” The creature began. “Ah, of course! Understand Darkon, the first question I must ask is an obvious one. What are four mortals doing traveling the Abyss so openly?”
By the light brushing he felt in his mind Darkon knew this being was very skilled in the mindflow. Having only just regained his abilities he still had only a limited level of understanding and he did not yet know that he could easily block the general’s mental intrusions. He did suspect that any lies he told would be seen through and he feared those lies may be seen as an affront. So, he did the safest thing he could, he told the absolute truth. Why they were there, where they were headed and who they all were. His friends were gaping by the end of his telling, shocked that he had barely spared an ounce of their time together. The general was satisfied though, for he chuckled through much of it and gave condolences when necessary. Every bit was followed by a swift mind sweep that told the general what Darkon declined to mention, such as their pasts and how they became friends and their dreams and desires. Only the Demonslayer’s mind proved any challenge to the creature’s power even though he could not resist, being inexperienced as he was.
To all their credit they took this treatment quite well and merely looked to the son of the Black Tiger Clan, hoping he chose his next words carefully. Before he could continue the general abruptly stood and stared off into the darkness. Darkon began to ask him what was wrong but something caught his words before they left his throat.
Feeling then the touch of the mindflow he heard the mental voice of the huge warrior say, “Do not speak aloud, I sense an organized party of demons passing by about two miles away. Organized may be a strong word, more like a pack of wild beasts perhaps?”
Darkon returned, “Will you attack them? Is that why you’re here? Exactly what do I call your people anyway?”
He then persisted for he sensed the general was about to leave. Instead of answering in words the great red skinned creature answered all at once with images. Images were a much faster way to exchange knowledge and understanding and indeed in mere moments Darkon learned much more than he initially requested.
First he learned how long, long ago, when Earth was covered in rivers of fire the general’s people were merely one among demon kind and a handful of other diabolical races. Together they had dwelt on Earth serving their masters, the elder gods. The elders each had their own contingent of these creatures and used them to fight their battles for them. When a disagreement occurred between two elders, instead of fighting personally which would have destroyed the still developing planet, they conducted small wars. At first the wars settled everything, until elders like Set and Tiamat began to ignore the rules that had been set down. They had changed their contingents to suit themselves and further augmented their own ability to win the wars. Soon every elder god followed suit and thus the differences between the denizens of all the dark planes were pronounced. Demons were one of these products and the general’s people, the devils, were another. The enmity between them stemmed from the two elders who created them so long ago, thus they were bred for the purpose of killing each other. Both masters were now long gone from these realms but the creatures could not deviate from their very natures. They were programmed genetically to battle until the final day.
All of this Darkon soaked in and more, he also sensed the respect the devils had for his own kind, the Demonslayers, and the surprise the devil master had felt upon meeting him. The devil apparently was under the impression that the Demonslayers had been destroyed.
At that final thought the creature signaled to his lieutenants and began the preparations to leave. As the friends looked on an opening was made directly through the rigid lines of the devil army leaving room for the four adventurers. As Darkon and his friends walked slowly and carefully between the lines of soldiers, many of the devils seemed to contemplate ripping the throats from the presumptuous mortals. Still none followed through for they all feared the general and his cruel whip.
Sensing the building tension among the devil ranks Darkon did what a priest once told him never to do, he removed his headband. He then pledged to himself that never again would he conceal his proud mark while away from the lands of men. The devils that saw his mark broke into whispers and soon the entire army knew a Demonslayer still lived. No more thoughts of killing occurred now, only respect and what was most incredulous coming from devils, sympathy.
As the ten minutes needed to pass through the ranks went by and they left the army some steps behind, one and all let out a breath of relief.
Galen more than any it seemed realized how close they had come to a horrible end, yet it was he who relaxed enough to place an arm around Darkon's shoulder and say, “ I told Graton you were useful for something! I just didn’t know what.”
Everyone laughed at that, relaxing more as the sound of marching devils drifted to silence. They also found comfort in that the army had come from the direction they were heading in and surely any demons they had come across had been slain. Now, only the true destination lay ahead.


CHAPTER 10
TOO MANY EVILS


The demon lord chuckled ironically this time, for if he had not been following this mortal party’s movements he may never have discovered the devilish army that was marauding through his domain. Yes, he thought it good fortune and now he had even more reason to allow them to survive. Except that now he knew the identities of these youthful warriors and due to the fact there was a Demonslayer among them he could never allow them to live. In fact, they were much worse off than before and he would be forced to torture them all. He must scour their minds and discover if there were any other surviving Demonslayers. Dardiax would take the one called Darkon and put him on display for his subjects to view. They would see that though the combined forces of chaos could not finish the foul slayers their lord and master could.
Dardiax heard them tell the devil general that they sought the Scepter of Fire and although this was not the first time someone sought to rob him he found this even more insulting than usual. These four were not nearly skilled enough to make it through his countless defenses let alone defeat him here in his own realm. Knowing they were hired by some unknown mage Dardiax did sense there was more to this party than he had yet perceived. He was determined now to find out what that secret was. So determined in fact that he prepared a magic that would bring them into his very home.
His home was a massive walled palace that took two days Earth time to walk from one end to the