The Demon Lord Is An Angel
Chapter 213: Interlude - Amarena - Part 1

Chapter 213: Interlude - Amarena - Part 1

Traveling alone during a Heavenswar was suicide for most demons, but not for Amarena.

She liked being able to set her own pace. To pick her own fights.

Like the fight she was having with a pyrean murderhorn.

The monstrous form of a former unicorn, the beast before her was a massive specimen, clearly marked by the magics of its snowy yet volcanic environment.

Amarena chuckled to herself, her hands tensing around the handle of her sword as the murderhorn lowered its head, a swelling of mana rising to its very tip before a shrieking, billowing cone of flame flew toward her.

Amarena’s initial temptation was not to dodge. After all, what was mundane fire compared to the heat of hell? But at the last moment she spotted the hint of blue at the center of the cone, a deadly beam of magical ice had been hiding within the cone, and following her instincts led her to drop to her side as the blast of magic passed where she had been.

With a fast scramble, she managed to stay ahead of the magic as the murderhorn started to turn its head.

Her head start, however, didn’t last long, and the flame-ice magic began to close on her. As soon as she felt the heat touch her tail, Amarena swore and tapped into her magic.

All at once, the world slowed. Amarena’s mavenry was a pure expression of speed, and she used it to turn her steps inward, toward the monster before striking off its head with an upward slice of her battered, chipped, yet sharpened sword.

There was little grace to it. Nothing like the dancing fighter whose style she wished to adapt for herself. The terrain wasn’t good for it. Her opponent wasn’t person-shaped, and so would not fall into the patterns. And she was forced by the altitude to keep her fights as short as possible.

She came out of her speed just over a second after using it, but still the world seemed slightly slower than normal. Slow enough for her to step out of the way of the now-uncontrolled head.

For a few moments, the murderhorn continued to emit its magic, and the look of murderous shock might have been amusing to Amarena if not for the fact that she was already out of breath.

After half a minute, the magic finally stopped and she stepped forward, chipping the recurved horn with all its little barbs off of the skull before bagging it. Before starting the long process of dressing its corpse, she used some of the flaming, scrubby bushes to build up a small fire for herself.

Travelling north had taken her into colder climes - that much was expected. She’d vaguely thought that getting closer to the sun by traveling up the mountains would warm her up, but instead the air had gotten thinner and she was having to eat not simply for bulk but to stay alive.

The first time she’d used her manasight after starting her climb had been a revelation. There was less mana the higher up she went, except for the pockets where living things formed oases. She’d been able to rest peacefully at a few hot springs, and the eruption of some distant mountain had drawn her towards the flowing source of heat, only to find the monstrous unicorn she’d just killed.

Hours later, she felt much, much better after consuming the mana-rich meat and even some of the safer organs.

Scavengers further away from her enjoyed the bounty of the monster’s offal that she’d cast downhill, and she found herself sharing a stare with a mountain cat as she chewed the tough but mana-rich meat as she planned out her next moves.

Since the murderhorn was from the same stock, it stood to reason that it would have valuable parts as well.

Where the creature’s heart had been, mana corruption had formed a flexible, crystal-like version of the organ, and Amarena bagged that as well. Unicorns were prized creatures, more susceptible to becoming spirits than most, and likely more susceptible to becoming monsters.

She couldn’t eat it, but she knew such stones were valuable, and she hoped that the hide and horn would be useful down the line as well. She might need things of value where she was going.

Three weeks after her encounter with the murderhorn, her destination finally came within sight.

Isegart.

The last bastion of the old Valrian Empire, the city had become both home and holy city of the Valrian Order, a people of creeds and oaths who carried their high ideals above race, breeding, or class.

The stories her first Aytherian friend, Vatima, had told her of the Valrians had made Amarena desire to learn from the warriors, even if she couldn’t become one. She hoped she could because mastery of the self was a core tenet of every Order under the name of Valria.

She needed to master herself. Needed to address the weaknesses within her, and discover how to control her mavenry such that it no longer stole her life fuel itself...

Recalling the fight with the murderhorn, she wondered how much time those few seconds of speed had cost her. Months? Years? Her mother, Leviathan - Sin of Wrath, Duchess of the Wrathian Circle - had recognized early what a powerful and yet dangerous expression Amarena’s magic had taken, and had forbidden her by magical oath from using it.

But now Leviathan was dead, along with all of Amarena’s siblings, and no doubt a thousand fools were fighting to claim the name...

She would not let any who dared go unchallenged.

Gritting her teeth, she looked out across the frosted planes - grounds where summer should have reigned, but which were now choked by ashes from the Eye of Hell crossing the void to fill the sky. Beyond that grey-rimed field, the dark grey walls of the fortress city looked from this distance to be the only structure. Amarena squinted, learning that there were buildings outside of it, what looked like raised walkways of wood or stone, and even some green fields. They were dwarfed by walls that rose higher than any fortress of Hell that Amarena had seen.

This is it. Assuming they even let me inside those walls, it will be a challenge to leave, much less escape...

Even with her speed, the cold and the altitude were bitter enemies, and the relative lack of ambient mana nigh-but guaranteed that she would fail, especially if she was pursued.

"Last chance to turn back," she muttered to herself.

After a long pause, Amarena made her decision.

She steeled herself, and started walking towards Isegart.

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