The angel Sarah was held closely to the cavern wall, her naked body chained up helplessly in the air. Her body was weak and fragile; all her angelic powers were stripped from her. She could barely stay conscious, most of the time she was not. She did not expect that the demon Malice would be able to escape, but yet there he was, sitting on his throne made of skulls and broken bones.
The Cave of Deceit was Malice’s portal to and from the human realm and to the demon realm. Soon, he would call for his brothers and they would swoop down with a demonic fury that would ravage everything in their path.
Lynn pleasured Malice to no end. Sarah watched horridly as Malice violated every hole Lynn had to offer. She screamed and took it, but she did not fight. Malice didn’t stop. After he would force into her and spew out his demon seed, he would force into her again somewhere else and again, and more of his demon seed would spew out. There was no end. Sarah wondered if Malice would still be violating her own body if she had not done what she done.
Surely, the other angels would not wait passively for the destruction of the human realm which they swore to protect, at least Sarah thought. Sarah believed a violent war would break out, every demon and every angel would fight. But the angels would ultimately lose, for the demons wielded cruel weapons of destruction, like skull cleaving axes, and jagged bone claws as sharp as steel. The angels had no weapons to match them, and so would perish.
Sarah awoke and fainted and awoke again. And still Malice was deeply connected inside of Lynn. She didn’t know how long or how many times Malice had ravaged Lynn, nor did she know how Lynn could possibly endure this ordeal. Sarah’s nipples were shriveled from the cold and her skin was raised with goose bumps. Cold sweat beads dripped down her naked body and down her heaving breasts. Sarah fell unconscious again.
Redpaw Castle:
Tristan was being tended to his wounds by the castle doctor and Ghrom the Wise.
“You are very strong, young man. Any other would have his back broken.”
“If there is nothing else doctor, I wish to speak with Tristan alone.”
The doctor took his bag and closed the door behind him. Tristan sat on the bed with a bandage taped around his torso. Ghrom looked peculiarly at Tristan’s neck.
“What is that symbol on your neck,” asked Ghrom.
“I’m not sure, I’ve always had it.”
“Hmm… I’m sure by now you know of The Great Battle, everyone talks about it. But no one knows of the story that happened after. This story is far more important than any battle ever taken place in history.” Ghrom waited a moment in silence. “Once, there was a man, who stood tall and strong, and even stronger with a sword. His name was Tyrael. After The Great Battle, another battle was waged. This battle, however, was forgotten. Monsters from all four corners of the earth crawled out and devastated the land. This one man, and this one man alone, stood up against these foul creatures and fought them with valor, courage, and bravery. At that precise moment, the impossible happened. The Guardians of the world intervened, granting Tyrael power and a magical sword, and with his new power he cut down every last beast that could crawl. Tyrael never died. The Guardians prophesized that one day his power would be needed and that his spirit would return and vanquish evil once again. Your neck… it bears the mark of Tyrael’s sword.”
The Duke was not sure how to react. After hearing Ghrom’s explanation on the matter the Duke was more optimistic than ever that Tristan was indeed the one who will fulfill the prophesy. However, Tristan still had no wish to be apart of it.
“What are you saying, Ghrom?” The Duke asked most curiously.
“I am saying he is Tyrael’s son. Metaphysically, of course.”
“Tristan, and what you describe of the monsters is true?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Then your matter on being the chosen must be further discussed at a later time. This other situation in the city of Crimm is now of utmost importance.”
“What do you suggest,” asked Caston.
“We will need a troop to enter that wretched city and offer aid, more importantly find out more of these… creatures.”
“Shall I summon the general?”
“Tell him to depart at once.”
“What about the elves,” asked Tristan.
“Your heroism is unequalled, young Tristan. The elves are vital to the balance of the forest. I trust you will rescue them without fail.”
He was hesitant, but he agreed to rescue the elves. By doing so, Tristan was being pulled into the very plot that he wanted nothing to be apart of.
General Lazarus was the head of the Duke’s army. Just as Tone’s family has served as the Duke’s blacksmith, Lazarus and his father served as his bodyguard. Lazarus’ family has served the kingdom of Redpaw for three generations. Lazarus’ father was killed in battle during the second war.
Lazarus stood seven feet tall, his shoulders round from left to right, and physically very powerful. A scar ran deep across the middle of his bald head, which he received from Lorda, who was now the leader of the Krazen. His black skin was horribly disfigured. Lazarus waited for the day he would rule Redpaw.
Caston came into his tent and saw Lazarus meditating, “The Duke has requested you bring your men to Crimm and provide assistance.”
Lazarus looked at his direction, nodded, and returned to his meditation. Caston left without saying another word. People were afraid of Lazarus, not because he was a general, but because he was massive, and fire burned in his eyes. Commoners have told many wicked stories of his debauchery when he is with women.
Tristan hiked the trail up the mountainside. From here he could see everything from over the horizon. He was an expert swordsman but also an excellent tracker. The mountainside was picturesque, too. Lush green trees stood over the blue creek waterfall. Tristan inhaled the fresh air and closed his eyes. He stood there for awhile, then took out his sword and began practicing his skills. Tristan loved to train, and he trained constantly.
He thought a little training would be good now so that he would be more prepared to go against the monsters. Just then he heard a rustle in the leaves. A lithe little figure jumped from branch to branch. Tristan chased after her. The figure was definitely female. At the precise moment, Tristan leaped into the air, pulled out a knife from his boot, and hurled the knife towards the branch the woman had just landed upon. In a snap the branch broke in half and fell to the floor along with the woman. Tristan walked over to pick up his knife, return it to his boot, and looked at the woman.
She had blonde hair that was tied into a ponytail, her eyes blue and her lips red. She wore a tight leather outfit that enabled her to move quietly. The woman was thin, except for her rather large breasts that filled her outfit.
Tristan aimed his sword near her throat. “Perhaps you will explain yourself.”
“I don’t have to explain anything, and that really hurt.”
“Name.”
“Brianna.” Brianna rubbed her butt to soothe away the pain.
