The Demon Lord Is An Angel
Chapter 290: A Shard Of Wrath - Part 1

Chapter 290: A Shard Of Wrath - Part 1

The jet of water carved through a destroyed nest and into the snow-covered shore as all three women dodged.

Well, Amarena and Darlae dodged. Brigit got picked up and carried away by her hulking elven wife when she froze in the face of the scything death-water that carved a half-measure-deep line in the stony ground.

As soon as she locked eyes with the matron joermagr, Amarena felt a familiar burning in her chest. The self-loathing of her weakness in the presence of a true monster, a monster who dwarfed her with its size and strength...

A vow crawled out of her lips as she braced on hands and feet.

"I will have my sword back you bitch!" She took off at a sprint, her chest half-lowered to the ground as she held her borrowed blades in a reverse grip, leaving the Gale wives to fight the males, who were still awkwardly trying to fight their way closer to them.

"We need a plan!" She heard Brigit shout but ignored her.

Did she have a plan? No. But if the adoptive mothers of Kir were at least as smart as their son, and already Amarena figured they were smarter than him in some ways, they would follow her lead and try not to get in her way...

A surge of negative pressure began to crawl past Amarena as Brigit began to form a small tornado, which sucked up ice and rock as she took up a position in the eye of the twisting, siphoning gusts.

She hovered away from Darlae, splitting the males’ attentions as her wife readied her warstaff, charging her body with strength and speed beyond its normal measure as she dodged another bite.

Unbeknownst to Amarena, though the wives struck at their attackers, they pulled most of their hits. Merely inflicting pain as they tried to draw the males further ashore.

Amarena had no attention for this, because as she circled the matron upon the ice - her claws digging fiercely for every bit of purchase - the female joermagr launched volley after volley of water jets at her, destroying the ice behind Amarena’s steps and causing massive cracks to form in the measure-thick sheet of the lake’s cover.

Her rapid sprint quickly broke into more frantic dodging as she neared, as the joermagr lifted her massive bulk out of the water and crashed chest-first on top of the edge of the ice, breaking up the layers in front of Amarena.

Swearing as she leapt from surface to surface, she barely dodged one last jet of water before she suddenly found herself submerged in the piercing cold waters of the lake.

The shock of it was enough to make her whole body tense, which was the last thing she needed when the matron dove its head after her and seized her in its razor-toothed jaws before lifting her into the air.

"Agggh! FUCK!" Amarena gasped as she inhaled, looking down to find her hip and stomach bleeding from the matron’s bite. She’d let go of one of her swords in the water, and so with both hands she gripped the handle of her sole remaining blade and started to stab it into the beast’s snout.

The first wound she made was near a tendril of black, and a pulsing red knot of wet-iron flesh extended from that tendril to quickly cover it. A split-second realization kept Amarena stabbing and stabbing, making new wounds, until at last a bolt of magic colliding with the matron’s neck finally caused enough pain for the beast to bellow in anger.

Despite her wounds, Amarena took the chance and drove her blade home in the snout, twisting it sideways for leverage as she pulled herself off of the beast’s teeth and flipped on top of it, landing in a rough saddle position atop the bridge of its nose.

"Hey..." she rasped, one hand holding the wound on her stomach as she gripped with her thighs and feet, putting her magic into enough strength to hold on as it jerked its head, spitting wild jets in the vague direction of Brigit as Amarena blocked its view.

Measure by painful measure, Amarena clawed her way forward by using her sole remaining blade. When her skin touched one of the black tendrils, she felt an alien wrath start to seep into her mind. The beast’s thoughts and frustrations... Ash-burned sky... Less and less food... Greedy males... and her.

Egg-smasher. Egg-smasher! EGG-SMASHER!!! DIE.

The moniker screamed across the bridge formed in their shared, wrathful glares.

"SWORD STEALER!" Amarena shouted back as she finally clawed close enough to see the true state of her father’s final gift to her. It was rusted in every place it wasn’t grey, the steel edge holding to a body that was cracked, red light seeping through from a thin, dagger-sized crystal that had been embedded in its core, hidden from Amarena. "Give it back!"

As the matron began to raise her head to fling Amarena upward, Amarena let go of her purchase as she dove for her sword, grabbing with both hands as she let her wounds bleed freely.

One hand closed on the hilt, and it disintegrated in her grip, the now-rotted leather unravelling as the handle material - obsidian bark from the black orchards of Ire - mushed into shards under her grip, leaving her holding the tang and the edge of the blade, which cut into her palm as it dug deep and began to wrench at it.

Once, twice, thrice-

The blade didn’t want to leave, it felt angry, somehow, as if Rena’s reclamation was offensive to it. She had let it rot in the waters of the lake for months, and now she dared lay her hands upon it once more?

A surge of mana pulsed out from it and into the joermagr, who cried out in her frenzy as she wrenched her head from side to side, Amarena dangling and bleeding with every arc.

The males on the shore turned away from their quarry, rapidly trying to flop their way back into the waters as the matron began to swing the enemy on its snout lower and lower.

"You’re angry..." Amarena grunted at the sword, her face a snarl of frustration. Of self-hatred for having lost it in the first place. Of having never realized there was more to her father’s gift than met the eye... and she had let it rust. Left it to ruin while she failed and failed to get stronger...

It pulse again, her wrath and its meeting and clashing as it seemed to scream at her in waves of mana.

"You are my sword!" Amarena shouted. "I have had you from new. You are not going to rust! You will not leave me here!"

Wrath met wrath, and its wrath crushed hers...

It felt familiar... so fucking familiar... so-

*

"What are you doing?" The monster crossed her arms as she loomed over Amarena.

Amarena looked down. She was holding a knife, in a hand too small to wield it with any skill.

"She’s protective, Duke Wrath... I apologize," a man’s voice said. It was a silky smooth voice given smoke from years of standing before a forge. Her father had chosen a well-built form for his day-to-day activities. But even shapeshifting would not get rid of the magic-wrought scars that puckered his flesh from chest to throat and cheek. The wound was mind-deep, he’d told her once, etched by the "affections" of the Duke of Lust, when he was caught in a dalliance with one of Tzal’s rare smiths.

"Hmph. It is smaller than I expected. How has this imp survived this long, Tartarian?"

"She stays nearby. The other imps may beat her in size, but she learned how to use that quickly after she stole it, so I just let her keep it." Rena’s father shrugged, and he sat.

"And you’re sure it’s a she?"

"When she was a child of Wrath, and that you had only sons, she said she would be a daughter... She has not gone back on her word yet," he shrugged. "You know gender means little to cubi-"

"She is not a succubi. If she is to be my daughter, she will be wrathian." The monster bent lower, its tail curling against the wall of the house as she squatted, still unable to lower herself to see eye-to-eye with her.

"What is your name?"

Amarena started, she hadn’t understood anything about what was being said. Her father had promised she’d get to meet her mother soon... and now there was this monster...

"R-Rena..."

"It’s Amarena," her father said. "I named her after... someone I knew."

The monster chuckled. "Amarena... do you know what it is to be of Wrath? No, you don’t... you’re only eight. You’re only afraid, and trying to make me think you’re angry-"

Amarena stabbed at her, and the monster put her hand in the way, accepting the blade in the meat of her palm.

"Tsk." The monster pulled her hand back and plucked the knife from it like a mere thorn, showing Amarena the wound as it rapidly closed, leaving only a smear of thick, red blood. With a finger, she began to rub at the blood before reaching out, touching Rena on the forehead as she stood, frozen stiff by fear.

"You are my spawn... girl... Why do you want to be my daughter?"

Amarena swallowed, her eyes were full of tears.

"Nothing? Your father said you wanted to be strong... but all I see is weakness... You aren’t even strong enough to admit it..."

"I-I am weak..." Amarena said, her mind sharpening around the words of the monster - the mother - before her.

"Good. Now answer my question... tell me what you need to become strong."

Amarena looked at her father, and he nodded to her.

She repeated the words he’d given to her days ago, when he said she was now old enough to meet her mother...

"I need to find out who I am... and for that I need... I need..."

The monster... Mother... Leviathan, raised an eyebrow.

*

And as her wrath failed, smothered by the fury of a blade she had hated yet coveted - for it was not the sword of a graceful battle dancer, and yet it was the blade given to her by her father - she cried out...

"Please... I need you!"

With a sudden release, Amarena fell away, the blade in her hands as she flew backward, skidding along the ice until she came to rest in a bloody heap.