The entity did a mock bow, the smirk never leaving his face.

"Secon Apostle representing the benevolent Lord of Death, Sataen, at your service. Your majesty..."

"?!"

The moment Eliron heard his name, he grabbed Alex’s shoulder, pushing him behind him.

There was a sharp hiss of metal and Eliron’s sword sliced through the air, pointed right at Sataen’s throat. Even Alex was surprised by his sudden action.

’What the fuck is going on?’

Eliron could hear his heart pounding within him, adrenaline pumping through his veins, his breathing accelerating, and each muscle tightening with tension.

’What the actual fuck is going on?’

In the original story, the lord of the dead never showed up in any battles, that seemed to be the same case as what was happening now.

Except for one serious difference! In the novel, Donia fell to the third apostle! Him alone was more than enough to dismantle everything the kingdom threw at him, and that was a lot considering Alex fought in his dragon form.

The apostles were the highest ranked servants of the Lord Of The Dead, but although they were all called apostles, there was a great trench between their ranks when it came to power.

If the third apostle was a gun, then the second might as well be a rocket launcher. That was just how great the difference between their strength was.

Eliron was already unsure about fighting the third apostle, whose abilities were said to rival that of the Archmage....

Why then was a walking calamity like the second apostle in front of them? Why had the story changed for the worse?!

Sataen ignored the sword in front of him and stared into Eliron’s eyes. "Oh? A wood elf whoreson dares raise his blade at me?" He laughed. "Times are changing..."

"Back in the day we had pretty boys like you tied up on poles, hanging over a kindling fire..." There was merriment in his voice as he relived the moment in his head. "First, we melt the skin off, slowly, then the hair, then the dic—"

"You’re a long way from home, did the old bag of bones finally give you a hall pass?" Eliron asked coldly, completely unaffected by his insult.

Something dark flickered in Sataen’s eyes. He smiled in response, but his eyes screamed out a thousand curses.

"What are you doing here?" Eliron asked plainly. "Speak, before I burn every ounce of you." 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

Although Eliron knew just how dangerous the man was, he could not show an ounce of fear. This was war, showing fear in front of your enemy meant you had already lost.

So he buried that feeling in the bottom of his heart, covered it in so many layers that all he was left with was sheer arrogance.

Sataen sighed dramatically. "What am I doing here? I just came to say high of course. You know, check the place out..."

He glanced around the room. "Pretty neat, not bad at all."

"Seeing that we will soon burn the city to the ground, I am trying to discover what stuff to keep and stuff to demolish, you know?"

"I see..." Alex smiled as he stepped next to Eliron, his eyes devoid of fear.

The silver of his eyes had changed to gold, and with that change, the real him had stepped through the veil, those slip pupils regarding Sataen with utmost contempt.

Like a true dragon, he saw even the second apostle to be beneath him, just like every other being in this world.

He could not even feel offended, it was beneath him to be offended, such was the level of his Draconic pride.

"But I’m afraid I do not like to share my horde, Mr Sataen." Alexander glanced around the room, then cocked his head to the side and smiled.

"The people of Donia are my treasures, and the kingdom is my cave." Alex’s face twitched, his rage encompassing.

He stared at the body of what used to be his friend, at the miserable state of it...

"Who gave you permission to lay your disgusting hands on my stuff? To contaminate it with your filth?"

Sataen tilted his chin upwards, his nostrils flared and a smile cut through his face. "You arrogant baby dragon, you impure gutter-blooded trull. Do you know who you stand before?"

"A parasite, nothing more than a stain that will be burned away. Fire purifies all..."

"I will burn down your cities, feast on the flesh of those you love, and I will make you watch, burn the memory into that skull of yours, write them in your eyes with blood and regret—"

Eliron’s blade dug deeper into his skin, drawing blood. "Not if I take that miserable head of yours first."

Sataen nodded, his eyes moving from Alex to Eliron, as though to burn their images into his mind.

"Heh." He stared at the bed. "This was meant to be a friendly visit, to think I will be ridiculed by children." He slowly nodded, allowing the humiliation to sink in.

He shook his head, his voice turning low.

"Hmmm..."

"Count your days..."

His voice came out like a curse itself. There was no fake smile, no mirth, or even the cheeky edge Sataen had shown to have.

Only madness that could not be measured.

The three words carried so much weight, so much undiluted hatred, that both men felt a chill run through their spines, the colour draining from their faces in an instant.

It was no mere threat.

And then he was gone.

The moment the pressure vanished, both Eliron and Alex took a deep breath, stumbling back and holding each other upright.

"Damn it, do you have a death wish?!" He glanced at Alex who was sweating buckets.

Alex’s eyes changed back to normal, a wary look on his face.

"I could ask you the same thing, I was just following your lead, god damn it!" He exclaimed.

"Shitt." Eliron stared at Cavil who was now unconscious.

To seem confident, they had just pissed off the most powerful person currently in Donia... the warlord they would march into battle against in a few days.

Do you know what was worse than a mad man? A pissed off mad man, a mad man with a score to settle, a mad man with a grudge!

Just how screwed were they??

Alex let out a tired breath and stood straight, glancing at Cavil. "Do you think..."

His words trailed off as Cavil’s body suddenly began to swell, bubbling as though it was liquid.

The man let out a tortured scream, blood spilling out of his mouth, ears and eyes. His body began to glow a vibrant purple, his chest swelling like a balloon.

A huge rush of sinister mana flooded out like lightning. The mana felt like pins on Eliron’s skin.

"Damn bastard!"

Sataen had cursed Cavil to blow up the moment he left, but he made sure he would suffer before he died!

"His mana core, it is going to erupt!" Alex yelled out loud, his voice bitter.

If an explosion like that was to go off in the palace... there was no telling how many people would die!

Eliron gritted his teeth and without a second thought raced through the harsh mana, towards Cavil, his fingers grazing his skin...

Just as he erupted.