Chapter 289 Get the horses
Azriel and Freya sped downstairs at maddening speed, and the thundering booted feet of guards followed after them.
Zavian's hand rested against the plaque-framed sword, the one to kill Aloysius, still marveling at its lightness that the power it held felt unreal. But it was a reminder of his priority at that time. Everything else could wait after Aloysius, and he was needed by thousands of people to protect them from him.
Including Neera. She needed his protection, and he would make sure he would win, and he would right things after in the new world to follow.
"Zavian," Neera called to him.
"Go downstairs," he told her. "I will be back."
And when he hurried down the stairs, his legs didn't carry him as fast enough away from her.
….
Aloysius sat tall on his horse, and the beast, along with the two others at its side, stood patiently, waiting.
From the distance, smoke and screams mangled in a torturous mix, pleasant music to his ears. This was his war, this was his fight, and again, the unrealness of his return, the mere fact he was standing there and taking back earth, caused him to smile.
"I think we have been ambushed," Uriel said.
"It doesn't matter," Aloysius said. "We kept our best for the last."
"Even Freya didn't stand a chance," Lydia said. "We'll wipe them all out in a few minutes and we'd take our thrones. I have personally said I would like to celebrate after with lamb chops. I have missed eating those."
"I want to use Zavian's skull as a goblet for my wine," Uriel said, to which Lydia cackled.
Aloysius was infected by her laughter and grinned. There were growls behind them, and he looked back to his army, the best of the last, hundreds of dead humans that he had experimented with the dark energy of the Underland on. Many had died from the trials, and many had survived as well, their strengths rivaling that of any ancient demons.
But Aloysius wasn't interested in them as the creatures lined behind them, large and bulky with heavy set arms drawing their body into a hunch. Faster than leopards, they slashed with the speed of arrows, and their only order was to kill and obey.
Those were the ones that would win the war for him.
He was ready. "It's time."
….
"He was the one who stabbed him!" A woman screeched, an abnormally high-pitched sound for a woman so small. She clutched a toddler to her chest, and the small child emitted the same banshee screams, most likely hereditary from the mother.
"Step back," Zavian said as he entered the centre of the commotion. There, laying on the floor and clutching his calf in pain, was a human male. He was injured, and the knife still burrowed deep into his calf.
"Who did this?" Zavian asked. Around them, murmurs grew, and the small woman stepped and held a huge, burly man by the front of his shirt.
"He is the one! He stabbed my husband because he refused to give him the sack he had on him!"
The man looked like he was about to punch the woman, fists barely contained by his sides. He looked rugged, eyes bloodshot, one too many cups of ale, no doubt.
"Azriel, have him locked up with the others in the dungeon," Zavian said.
The man began yelling as two powerful demons locked his arms in a hold. He was dragged despite his size, thrashing, and the people stepped out of the way for them.
"The rest of you, go on. We have to be quick," Zavian ordered. Like ants, there was a new orderliness as they moved.
Zavian rose his head to the tower where he had left Neera. He hoped she wouldn't find the need to leave the protective chambers, and he was going to assign her to take care of the others in there since she wanted to help.
And then, he was locked back to the past, when there was fire blazing and dead bodies littering the floor, and Lailah in Aloysius's hand. Aloysius held her up, and Zavian had been too late when Aloysius reached into her chest and tore out her heart. The pain he felt was too grand, too intense, too overcoming he had become a monster, and that was what it took to overpower Aloysius.
He wasn't going to let history repeat itself. That was his worst fear. And Aloysius would know to kill him twice, he would have to kill Neera first.
"Don't let my husband die!" The woman's sharp voice brought Zavian back. The man was groaning in pain, and Azriel was shouting orders to one of his men. He was lifted into the arms of a demon and was carried away.
"And here I was thinking Aloysius wanted to make an early surprise visit," Freya said, disappointed. "There is a war and people still choose to do this now? Pathetic."
"Everyone is almost in already," Zavian said, watching the small crowd around them diminish even further.
"Zavian, the witches that have promised to help us in today's war," Freya paused, making way for some female demons to pass. "They aren't here."
"I didn't put my mind that they will be."
"Still, Zavian, we need more people on our side, not his. He's got the help of those half demons, half witches traitors." Freya said.
"We are prepared, Freya," Zavian said. "And I trust in your fighting abilities. With you by my side, I know we are powerful enough to fight this war."
Freya did the eye roll, but Zavian could see the way the tension slipped out of her shoulders, and a bit of relaxation settled in. Freya was a great fighter, but the war was rattling everyone, the memory of the first one still fresh, the lost lives still felt.
"The horses," Zavian said as the last of the people trickled in, leaving a mass of soldiers in their black gear. "Get the horses, Azriel."
