Marked Ones: Advent of the Demon Prince

Chapter 111: Ruined Plans



"Lord Zethis! Lord Zethis!"

The king, who was swiftly walking through the halls of his palace, turned around and closed his hands around the throat of the messenger who interrupted him. There was a sudden cracking sound as he then pinned the messenger against the wall.

"What is it?" He growled at the man. Zethis' eyes flashed and fur began to grow along his arms, neck, and face. His muscles rippled.

Out of rage, Zethis accidentally shifted to his more bestial form. The hair on his neck grew into a massive mane, showing off his bloodline of a lion. Sweat dripped from the messenger in response to the aura of fear his king exuded.

"Speak."

"My king, our supply groups are coming under attack. Over the last month we have lost contact with at least two dozen different supply groups."

"And the depot at Alvora?"

Alvora was the city that they had replaced the citizenry with military personnel. It became the residence for additional reinforcements, acted as a rear guard, and was the central supply depot for both the Eroan and Union fronts.

Alvora was the key to their war efforts and without it, the war would fail. Their entire offensive was pinned on Alvora being a supply depot. There should be enough supplies to wage war for nearly a decade before needing to reinforce it.

If Alvora fell, Alorek would have no choice but to concede defeat. There was no worry about a counter offensive, since neither Eroa nor the human kingdoms wanted anything to do with their kingdom's land.

Zethis spit in frustration. "Send word to the garrisons. Reinforce the city with as many Master Rank and Advance Rank soldiers as we can summon. Also, from now on, deliveries occur without a minimum of four Advance Ranks. Go."

He threw the servant to the ground who landed with a loud thud and let out a sharp yelp. The servant rapidly stood up and limped away at a speed that impressed even the king.

Zethis was furious at the whole situation. The war was not supposed to start when it did. Thanks to the early start, the dungeon raids in the human kingdoms, particularly the Grand Raid in Arcadios did not occur and his distraction was unable to bear fruit.

Before being interrupted by more bad news, he was on his way to find out why. The former commander over his forces at the border was currently imprisoned in the palace under charges of treason for initiating an assault early.

The fool's actions might very well cost Alorek the war. There was still a chance, so Zethis would not back down, but if the odds were slim to achieve anything other than a stalemate. He would become yet another foolish king who bit off more than he could chew.

Sounds of screaming and yelping tickled his ears as he came closer to the dungeons. They were dark, damp, and smelled of blood, sweat, and other unspeakable bodily secretions.

At the far end of the rows of cells was the source of the cries. Inside this particular cage was a female beastwoman of reptilian descent. Instead of ears, she possessed a row of sharp teeth in her mouth and a forked tongue. However, she did have a tail like most other species did.

Every time her prison guard struck her with the whip in his hand, she would cry out in pain and blood would spray on the wall behind her.

"My, my, my…" Zethis announced his presence in a hushed voice. The prison guard bowed and stepped to the side, ceasing his charge's punishment. "General Elzha… taking time getting to know the other residents of your new home I see?"

Her pink eyes, with reptilian slits glowered at him in defiance. "Zethis, the pretender."

Elzha screamed as her words earned her another strike from the guard. Zethis held his hand to have the man refrain from continuing.

"Heh… how merciless a king you are." Elzha choked out. "What do you want my liege?"

The last two words dripped out of her mouth like a poison. It was clear she held no respect for her lord that stood before her. Zethis was surprised, though it did not show on his face.

Before now, General Elzha was a fiercely loyal servant to the throne. Many times, Zethis had met with her and he truly respected her ingenuity and battle prowess. Never before had she given any indication of defiance to him, or the kingdom.

Even if she hated him as a person, she would never be so reckless as to endanger the very kingdom out of her petty dislike of him.

"I only wish to know why. Tell me why and your death will be swift."

"Death… death means nothing! Fast or slow, in the end it is the same. Today or tomorrow, in the end it is the same. You, me, or the kingdom… in the end it is all the same."

The once proud general began cackling on the ground. Tears fell from her eyes as the laughter became louder and more maddening. Not many things scared him as a proud and powerful warrior, but this scene definitely unnerved him.

"Oh, Mighty King Zethis… Alorek will not fall. Eroa… will not fall… the human kingdoms will not fall…"

"That's good."

Elzha began laughing again before a tiny cracking sound echoed out of her mouth. Zethis immediately recognized it as the cracking of a tooth. He and the guard attempted to rush the prisoner before she could swallow the poison, but they were too late.

Elzha's eyes turned milky-white and foam began to pool at the corners of her mouth. She collapsed on the ground and began to spasm uncontrollably.

By the time her body settled, she moaned out her last words, "…world…rejects…gods and betrayers… beasts… devour all…she showed me… the Throne of Creation."

It was a horrible way to die, though Zethis found himself realizing she deserved it, he could not help but shudder at what he had just witnessed. He quickly turned around and left the dungeon. He needed to get to the council chambers immediately.

It did not matter how long it took or what it took, he needed to find the name of every 'she' that interacted with Elzha from the time of her assignment to her imprisonment.

"Gods, beasts, world, and devouring… ramblings of a lunatic in the throes of death. No more, no less." Zethis mumbled, trying in vain to comfort his own unease.

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