The Lost Lord Ch 17

Note: Been awhile, hasn't it. The main reason for my lateness was my extreme laziness and lack of motivation. I mean, c'mon! I'm doing this fo' free, so gimmie a little break. The second reason was follow up surgery on what the doctors had done to me a while ago. It wasn't pleasant so I'll leave the gory details to you. Also, no sex this chapter just so ya'll know. Couldn't really figure out a decent way to fit in any sex without extending the chapter by several thousand words, and I'm too lazy for that. Around 10,000 to 11,000 or less is my max for each chapter.

Ch. 17 - We Have Our Reasons to Fight

"ONE DOWN, TWO TO GO!" An imperious voice yelled this out as it placed a foot on top of an unconscious body.

Asmodea, a red succubus looked onward as she saw her ally, Sitri, sleeping under the aggressor's body. Her group consisting of Asmodea, Sitri, and Little Rouge had received a sneak attack from two enemies. It was a well thought out attack and the sneak attack managed to knock Sitri unconscious. A black demon, and Sitri at that, normally would never fall prey to such a lowly tactic. And yet, it happened; that was no mean feat their enemy, two of the Parish, could accomplish. They well deserved their name.

Asmodea checked on Little Rouge, who was now currently engaged in a fight against her fallen angel enemy. Little Rouge could more than handle herself in a fight; in fact, she was probably the most capable fighter in the Pillar of Lust.

Asmodea inspected her enemy. It was a man, a Pride demon, and he was half naked. While his flamboyant demeanor was not out of a desire to be an exhibitionist, it seemed that in order to fight, the demon needed to have part of his body uncovered. The Pride demon had light blue skin and appendages. He had the normal demonic horns and tail, but no wings. He wore baggy cargo pants that seemed like he had acquired from the human world. Also, apart from his shoes and pants, he wore no clothing. While cloths did not cover his skin, a large range of tattoos did. Numerous tattoos covered his body; each with an impeccable drawing that would rival many artists. Other than his bare hands, the demon had no weapons around his body.

Deciding to play the passive card, Asmodea asked this, "And what might your name be, good sir?"

The imperious voice replied, "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."

Asmodea's eyebrows twitched, "It is... Asmodea."

"Do I really need to give my name to every random enemy I come across? Fine, call me Reginald of the Parish." The imperious voice gave its name and continued its arrogance.

Asmodea then added another person to her dislike list. "Now I request... No, I demand you get your thrice damned foot off the Daughter of Sin."

Reginald tilted his head confused, "Why, what in the world do you mean? I mean, sure, I've got my foot on a piece of trash that couldn't even withstand a simple sneak attack mind you. I really don't think this trash below me is a true Daughter of Lust."

Their conversation then turned into a mud-slinging contest of words, "Worm, do not even think for a second that you can hope to match Sitri in open combat, much less combat me."

"OH MY! Didn't you insult this trash below me just now? Technically. Gosh, all I did was inject a little bit of poison in her and... SLUMP! Down she goes onto the ground." Reginald shrugged as if the situation meant nothing to him.

Asmodea never saw how Reginald managed to knock Sitri unconscious, and it turned out to be some type of poison. She would have to be careful. What kind of poison was it? Deadly or non deadly? Did he have an antidote? Of course, the real question was: How did Reginald even manage to inject that poison in the first place? Poison released through the air would not have been effective, as their current environment had swift winds coursing around them. Liquid poison would have been most effective, but was severely reduced in ways of how to get the poison induced. The only viable way that Asmodea could gather was being poisoned by direct contact. Yet how could Reginald have done that? Asmodea saw no weapons or anything that could carry poison in Reginald's possession. It was a mystery that Asmodea could only find out in combat.

"Really, I would never have expected such a cowardly way to finish off an opponent from a prideful demon." Goaded Asmodea.

"Uh... In case you forgot. I'm a damn assassin? In fact, I'm really the only one on my team that even bothers with stealth and true assassination. Whether it is by poison, blade, or natural causes, I will arrange my target's demise. And if needed, I will fight in an up front battle. I sure hope you can provide suitable entertainment for me." Reginald haughtily returned his words.

How did Reginald fight? Is he a master of unarmed combat? Does he have any weapons in his pants or shoes? Asmodea continued to ponder Reginald's skill set. She had long ruled out magic, as she sensed absolutely zero latent magical power in Reginald's body. Her question was answered, with a twist.

Charging straight in, Asmodea rushed towards Reginald, swinging her claymore into Reginald's body. It was a simple maneuver, one that Reginald easily and stylishly jumped over. With an acrobatic feat, Reginald swiftly kicked his shoe, in mid air, at Asmodea. She knocked the shoe out of her way, only to find Reginald's foot no longer inhabiting the shoe.

Reginald landed and kicked his other shoe straight at Asmodea's stomach while also kicking his bare foot into Asmodea's knees. The red succubus arced her sword, slicing the shoe in half while also blocking the bare foot with the cold metal of the sword.

"I'M IMPRESSED! You don't see many who can see through my opening." Reginald spoke his first positive words towards his opponent in quite a long time.

Reginald was very skilled, Asmodea could gather than. Yet she soon realized that his martial capabilities was not all that Reginald had up his sleeveless body.

Reginald stabbed forward with his hand. Asmodea jumped back, avoiding the blow, but soon felt something penetrating her armor. A glowing, transparent, and green snake bit through her armor. Asmodea pulled the snake out just before it was about to bite into her body. The snake appeared out of nowhere, but Asmodea followed the snake's body only to find it connected to Reginald's arms.

Apparently, the tattoos on Reginald's body could take form and attack as if they were tangible. How in the world did Reginald gather enough magical power, from his body vacant of magic, to do this?

"Is this how you poisoned Sitri?" Asked Asmodea.

"Eh, I suppose I poisoned the trash with this ability of mine. Almost got you too."

"How can you even gather this magical power? I have never seen anything like this. Creating tangible existences of your tattoos, that should be impossible for you." Asked Asmodea as she and Reginald exchanged several more blows.

"If you managed to cut me once, I think I'll tell you then. Maybe. NOW COME ON!" Bellowed Reginald, he was excited for this fight.

Asmodea's masterfully crafted armor managed to deflect and stop the less powerful attacks, but it crumbled like butter under Reginald's more heated strikes.

At one point, both of them ended up on crumbling structures eight meters away from each other. Reginald unleashed a ranged tattoo at Asmodea at that point. On his shoulders, Reginald created two mounted guns. The display looked comical to Asmodea, who had to stifle a laugh, but she soon realized that all of his tattoos were no jokes.

Both guns fired deadly bullets at Asmodea, each racing towards the succubus at speeds that no normal being could see. Yet Asmodea was no normal being. The red succubus deflected one bullet while nimbly dodging the other. And before Reginald could fire any more, Asmodea sliced her claymore in a forward arc at the Pride demon. From the arc the sword slashed in, misty energy sped off towards Reginald as Asmodea revealed her own form of a ranged attack.

Reginald was genuinely surprised, he never figured that Asmodea could or would use a ranged attack. The misty energy mostly missed Reginald thanks to his reflexes, but it managed to land a small cut just below his left knee. "Hey! How'd you do that?"

"I will show you mine if you show me yours. I cut your leg." Asmodea smiled with a mischievous, seductive quality.

Reginald raised an eyebrow before shrugging, "Fine then. As promised, I'll tell you the secret of my tattoos. Its simple really, I had an artist make these tattoos out of special ink. I reaped the soul of an Archmage several hundred years back, and I infused the vast power of that soul in the ink the artist used to make my tattoos. And I'm sure you can gather the rest."

Right when Reginald mentioned the bit about the Archmage's soul, she understood. This particular variety of souls are quite unpredictable. And its power can come in an infinite amount of forms. So in Reginald's case, the soul's power helped him form tangible realities of his tattoos.

"Very well. My sword is a famous one in the human world. I acquired it during my time of protecting my precious lord in the human world this past eighteen years. Perhaps you have heard of the hero, William Wallace? This is his sword. The Wallace Sword is quite powerful, and it perfectly suits my tastes when it comes to weapons. This blade gathered its power over the time it was wielded by its user."

"REALLY? I see, it is quite interesting actually. Elizabeth over there... Whoa, their fight's getting pretty intense. Elizabeth wields a pretty famous weapon herself, though you can find out should you somehow manage to defeat me. LET'S GET BACK TO THINGS NOW!" Bellowed Reginald.

The blue Pride demon unleashed two more bullets from his gun tattoos before releasing them and forming another tattoo's reality. He formed brilliantly white angelic wings on his back and flew towards Asmodea.

Asmodea stopped the two bullets with another of her sword's energy slashes. She wasn't surprised that Reginald had angelic wings for his tattoo instead of demonic ones. He was probably going for style and uniqueness points there. It was the most contrasting thing Asmodea had seen in her life. Angelic wings on a demon, it was as contrasting as the simple matter of light against dark, ground against the sky, and of course Little Rouge versus Caetorum.

Reginald sped off at Asmodea at fast speed, his wings practically frozen in the air. He sliced his arm forward, with the snake biting and glancing off Asmodea's blade. He struck upward with his fist, aiming for the chin. The fist connected, but the magic snake bounced off of Asmodea's metal gauntlet that she brought in to counter Reginald.

Asmodea went on the offensive herself after slicing at Reginald's neck. She chopped downwards and upwards, she stabbed at his eyes and at his groin, and she also shot forth another burst of misty energy towards Reginald.

Reginald brought out another hidden tattoo, which was located on his right underarm. This particular tattoo was a gaudily colored tower shield that he used to block Asmodea's blasts of misty energy.

It was all but a stalemate.

-

It may be a stalemate for the battle between Asmodea and Reginald... The fight for Little Rouge and Elizabeth however, was nearing its end; in Elizabeth's favor.

"I must admit... You are quite the opponent. Even for a member of the Pillar of Lust, you have far exceeded my expectations. Are you sure this is all you can do?" Confident and cold words came from Elizabeth.

Elizabeth is a member of a rumored assassination group named the Parish. She is not your normal member of a demonic group, as she is a Fallen Angel. Greyed-blonde hair rested on her head, which was bound back by a simple, silver circlet. She wore matching silver (colored) armor with assorted gold embossments. An unstrung bow was fastened to her back. Her most prominent feature was her daggers. Two long and sharp daggers were placed in each of her clenched hands. Both daggers were symmetrically similar, in both design and color. Yet despite that, both daggers were centimeters shy of being classed as short swords. They both branched off on opposite sides of the daggers, branching off into a sharp hook.

While she spoke confidently, Elizabeth was panting as if she had been through a severely tough ordeal. Numerous scratches marred her uncovered skin. There was one partial gash that dug into her armor on her hip, which met her flesh. And while she was in this state, her opponent, Little Rouge was in a far worse state.

The red succubus stood proudly several meters away from Elizabeth with her arms draped down, her legs lazily holding her body up, and plenty of wounds and battle scars decorated her body. The most serious of them was a clear hole that rested just below her bosom. It was a fairly small hole, but it cleared all the way through her body. Little Rouge had miraculously stopped the bleeding a while ago, but it was still a serious wound that required serious medical attention. An arm was nearly severed, however Little Rouge had luckily got off with only a fourth of her arm chopped by the daggers. Those two wounds aside, numerous cuts and gashes littered her body. While she was in this state, she could confidently say that this wasn't the worst Little Rouge has endured. In fact, she once had an arm severed from her shoulder, but she got it re-attached in time for it to successfully make use of the arm.

Despite all this, Little Rouge held a curious, smiling expression on her face: her eyes were closed as if daydreaming, she hummed a cheerful hymn, and her cheeks puffed in an out playfully. "That's quite the compliment! ♡" Said Little Rouge as she relaxed and bounced jovially. "Ohhhhh I've got plenty more... I'mmmmm having tooooo fun tooooo lose here! I III suppose IIIII will try harder now. ♡"

Elizabeth frowned, "You were not trying before? I find that hard to believe you would allow yourself to be injured to this extent without fighting for your life... How is it you can even stand up with your wounds?" Elizabeth ruffled her black feathers, clearly unhappy with the situation.

"Hmmmm? What's wrong? I'mmmmm giving you aaaaa handicap! ♡"

"Handicap?"

"Yup! I'mmmmm suppressing myyyyy adrenaline sooooo as tooooo enjoy the yummiest pain to the fullest! I'mmmmm the Fetishes ooooof Lust, after all! ♡" Little Rouge gave off an oddly radiant demeanor coupled with her widest smile. This was an exceptionally tough battle where Little Rouge had accumulated a number of pleasurably painful wounds; she wanted to enjoy it a little bit longer.

"You... Have no desire to shield yourself from my attacks? All merely for your disturbing masochistic... Fetish?" Elizabeth scrunched her facial features into a confused expression. If that was true, she was not inflicting all of these wounds simply because of her skill, but the fact that Little Rouge allowed it. At least, that would be the case if Little Rouge was not bluffing.

Elizabeth glanced at Little Rouge and surveyed her opponent: she showed no signs of fatigue, pain, or even concern. All she saw was her opponent's face twisted into a rather scary smiling expression. Little Rouge licked the blood off of her lips. She clapped the metal palms of her gauntlets onto her cheek, as if savoring the taste.

Only silence purveyed the field, which was broken partially by the continuing battle between Asmodea and Reginald. One would think Little Rouge had the disadvantage due to her choice of weaponry. She wore a type of thin metal armor over her hands and feet, both fashioned into deadly claws and talons. Gruesome hand to hand combat was Little Rouge's preference, as she liked to be in the thick of the bloody carnage. And she normally is at the disadvantage against many opponents with weapons, as they had longer reach and space to avoid her lethal claw weapons. Yet that provided the added challenge and thrill to the frequent and brutal fights Little Rouge enjoyed so much. Nothing was going to stop her from enjoying her prey. And if she died in the process searching for her thrill, well... That hasn't happened so far, has it?

"Had enough ooooof a rest cute little angel girl? ♡" Said Little Rouge to Elizabeth. In normal circumstances, such as a random every lustful thrill that Little Rouge got herself into, she would have enjoyed toying with Elizabeth, she was quite cute after all.

Elizabeth gritted her teeth, considering Little Rouge's demeanor, the fallen angel felt that she was at a clear disadvantage. If she had any hope of winning this fight, she had to deal only lethal blows from now on. She could afford no mistakes and petty cuts, only absolute perfection.

Elizabeth shot forth five bolts of light, each angling towards Little Rouge at a different direction (she's a Fallen Angel and thus she has light magic from when she was an angel). Dashing off while using the bolts as cover, Elizabeth held the pommels of her daggers perpendicular to her palms, ready to strike.

Little Rouge was waiting for this sort of attack, she had already received one extremely painful bolt of light through her chest, and while it did feel good, she did not believe she could survive many more. Light was poison to demons, Little Rouge knew that much and didn't want to stick around for much longer. Death, even a pleasurable one, should of course be avoided. The red succubus sidestepped the bolts of light and set up her guard so as to block Elizabeth's daggers.

The daggers met Little Rouge's metal gauntlets; sparks were created between the friction of each two's metal implements. Little Rouge kicked upwards with her metal boot that consisted of sharp talons. While they didn't hit too deeply, the succubus managed to inflict another small wound into the Fallen Angel's fair skin. Elizabeth winced at the slight increase of pain, but persevered and let out a flurry of frantic attacks with her daggers; all of which Little Rouge swept to the side with her powerful clawed arm.

Elizabeth surrounded one dagger with light and sliced it backwards. It managed to land a sizable cut on Little Rouge's left forearm. Little Rouge cursed the efficiency at which angels could use their magic, though she also moaned happily at the pain.

Very few species, which demons and humans and most humanoid species were excluded from, could use magic innately. Angels were one of those few that could. They were born with the innate ability to wield light magic and could call it from their very core and soul. That is the reason why angels do not need to chant incantations for their light magic; it is the same with Aureal when it comes to both her light and dark magic.

Eventually, after plenty of exchanges, the two of them came to a frantic grapple contest. Both Little Rouge and Elizabeth were locked in a position that forced them to hold on to each other and attempt to overpower one another. If either let go or lost the power exchange, they would be gutted and impaled on their enemies' weapons.

As if the most intense game of arm wrestling was occurring right now, both players stared into each other's eyes, sweating and pouring all their might into the outcome. Little Rouge grinned as she slowly began to overpower the less muscled opponent. "How's that! Entertain mmmmme a little bit longer please! ♡"

Elizabeth was concentrating too much on the grappling in order to formulate a proper amount energy to bring out light magic, yet just because she was born innately with magic didn't mean she couldn't chant incantations. "Light of a thousand suns... Heaven's own door be closed to me..." Elizabeth slowly chanted this while staring deep into Little Rouge's cheerful face.