Imp to Demon King: A Journey of Conquest

The jewels encrusted in Ikarion's pommel glinted in azure, red, and emerald hues as his golden blade flashed to end this battle.

Time seemed to stop for a split second as the orcs shook their heads in pity while the humans' delighted roars pierced the chaotic battlefield. Their king had won, and with his victory, their kingdom would rise again as the realm's uncontested ruler.

But Vrashnak knew better. Towering at the circle's helm to watch the duel, he observed the demonic generals' reactions and frowned.

Garduck clenched his fists overhead, shouting words of encouragement to Adam despite his inevitable defeat. Ifrit gazed at the king, his amber eyes burning as if he wanted to reduce him into drifting ashes. The three young succubus seemed no different. Hope still sparkled brightly in their green eyes.

Even Maven stood fist trembling before him and roared that Adam, who carried the dragon legacy his species revered with all their hearts, would never lose to anyone.

All these bizarre reactions made no sense to him. Were these fools refusing to see the truth, or were they just blind? He sighed and shook his head before a smirk split his face. It didn't matter. Be it by Adam or his hand, there would be no miracle for the humans. Oikos would fall today.

Meanwhile, blood filled Adam's remaining eye and anger he had never felt before swarmed his mind. Of course, the agony was the first trigger but not the main drive. Instead, words rumbled in his mind.

'This fool doesn't put me in his eyes. He thinks he's superior. Because of what? His tier? His stats?' Smoke burst through his clenched teeth. 'Imbecile! Look how it's done and curse your own arrogance.'

For one, his extreme instincts indicated him Ikarion's position even if he stood in his dead angle. Even without it, he could hear the blade cleave through the wind. And the most infuriating thing that drove him crazy was that this buffoon spoke during a sneak attack. What was he doing? Trying to act cool?

As the blade's sharp glint zoomed toward his neck and without a word, he lunged like a demonic beast craving for blood—Ikarion's blood.

CLANG

His right hand trembled as his chaosbringer met the golden sword. But like earlier, the disparity in strength instantly made him suffer. No, compared to earlier, it was much worse since he only used his right hand.

SHATTER

His wrist collapsed, followed by his forearm, before his grip loosened on his scarlet blade, making Ikarion snicker at the vain resistance.

"I won't give you any chance to turn this fight. Die!"

BANG

As he retrieved and swung his blade to deliver the killing blow, his eyes widened, and a drop of cold sweat rolled down his brow as Adam kicked the pommel of his own falling blade with a suppressed grunt.

Cancelling his strike, he threw himself aside gracelessly, a harrowing whistle shattering his eardrum as the chaosbringer sped through the horizon.

A flow of curses filled his mind, and his lips twisted in frustration. Why couldn't Adam give up? He was weaker, slower, and to make matters worse, he was not dropping his guard or underestimating him, making the disparity between them as clear as the sky.

All these questions vanished as his thoughts shattered and his pupils constricted. The stench of sulfur permeated the scalding air as a suffocating heat engulfed his face.

"RAAAH!"

The moment he kicked his sword, Adam resumed his merciless charge. What was pain? What did it matter? Who had been his first teacher? Like Achilles, he stomped on the ground, dark flames flickering in his outstretched palms with subtle hints of purple.

He saw Ikarion try to match him with the same beam that had vaporised his eye. The light flickered, the edges blurring as it widened. Just as he suspected. It was a spell imitating lasers to deliver a condensed strike of unmatchable heat. Meaning the larger he made it, the weaker it would become. And with the king's face beneath his palm, his only hope was to destroy the entire arm.

An icy snicker left his lips as he saw the king hesitate, likely debating whether to aim for his head. After all, he'd most likely kill him... but was he willing to risk being touched by 15.000 degrees flames?

And as predicted, Ikarion went for the arm. Another mistake he'd regret in hell.

An intense light blinded him, the heat crashing against his dark scale. The orange glows underneath fought the weaker laser back, yet Ikarion's magical proficiency was exceptional.

He hadn't heard him utter a single word before his spells manifested. But would it stop him?

Pain assaulted him as his scales melted, the once harder-than-steel keratin dripping into sizzling puddles. His skin and muscles followed before the bones drifted into a cloud of ashes a split second before he touched the bastard's face.

Through his pain, he saw the joy in Ikarion's eyes, and the corner of his lips rose to announce his ultimate triumph.

But sometimes, the most insidious strike came from the most visible part.

Without warning, he spun on his heels, prompting his adversary to raise his blade to block the incoming kick.

However, the expected strike didn't register. Instead, a blur bypassed Ikarion's blade, lashing across his cheeks and snaring his face.

Trembling, he raised his hand to free himself, only to roar in agony as flames erupted from the scaled whip.

"What's happening?!" His voice cracked in horror as he smelled his own face burn, his hair caught on fire, and agony engulfed his thoughts.

He gripped it, feeling the scales covering the long whip before he thundered.

"That useless tail you never used?!"

"You had fun smirking and watching me from above? Shut up and die now!"

Under the humans' trembling eyes, the orcs' unsure gazes and the demons' cheers, he poured every remaining bit of his essence into his tail.

The flames roared brighter, melting skin until a white skull appeared for all to see amidst Ikarion's despairing screams.

"The griffin will come after you before you savor this fleeting victory. Hahaha! You'll soon fall, and trust me, Hades will take good care of your soul."

"Or I will kill him and retrieve yours to give it to Ifrit." He shot back as a gust scattered Ikarion's ashes, leaving a half-melted armor and an intricate golden sword behind.

"Yes! Give me his soul. I will roast it for thousands of years as punishment. He'll pray to fall into the demon realm just to escape my clutches. This is Ifrit's verdict. Harmony's territory's judge verdict!"

Adam rolled his eyes, too exhausted to answer his general's dramatic declarations. Still, he could hear deep resentment and care in his voice—it warmed his heaving chest.

However, there was no rest for the winner. In fact, what followed fell outside of his predictions even if he had understood the treachery mid-fight. No... He had always had doubts, but they were jokes compared to Garduck's and Luna's.

He gazed at his weakest general and nodded.

Catching the clue, Garduck moved like a shadow. His blade drawn, he moved behind the approaching Vrashnak, who clapped with a bright smile.

"Congratulations on your victory in this honorable duel." A genuine grin spread across his face. "I think I speak for every orc when I claim you're a worthy leader."

Adam exhaled and dropped to his rear. Suppressing his rage, he did his best to keep his voice even.

"I can understand the others not helping since they're too weak. But you took me off guard with your duel tradition."

"Hahaha. Sorry about that. I wanted to avoid an orcish rebellion. They're quite feisty with perceived dishonor and weak leaders, you know?" Vrashnak's grin widened.

He stood a few steps away from Adam, his broadsword clutched between his muscular arms as he continued.

"A shame you're weaker than me."

"A shame you can't accept peace." Adam snapped his fingers without moving.

At the sound, Garduck plunged his blade into Vrashnak's back. But the blade failed to pierce the armored-like muscles and stopped a few centimeters in.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

Simultaneously, Ifrit slammed his arms open, bright orange flames flowing from the movement to rise into fiery walls that isolated the battlefield's shattered ground from the other orcs.

Morwen, Sarah, and Victoria hurled a barrage of green flames at Vrashnak's pale skin while Maven's blade whistled to behead him.

However, the orc only laughed their pitiful attacks off.

Enjoy exclusive content from empire

"Did you forget?" A red light flashed in his eyes as he opened his arms to take the blows without flinching. "The more wounds I suffer, the stronger I become. Well, not that those pitiful scratches will help much."

His footsteps, each a countdown towards Adam's doom, echoed, prompting the generals to strike with ferocity and desperation. Flames charred the orc's epiderm while their sharp weapons rebounded on his muscles, and their voices cracked with curses and threats.

Yet, he ignored them all and drew his blade at Adam's neck, towering before him like the emissary of death ready to reap his soul.

"Any last words, my dear conqueror?"