No one knew what had happened to the Wand of Orcus after the avatar of Tiernon had slain the demon prince. The general assumption was that it had been taken to Tierhallon. However, the probability of a rogue demon prince from the hinterlands being able to sneak into Tierhallon and retrieve the Wand of Orcus seemed a bit too far-fetched.
Sammael’s eyes narrowed in thought. It was interesting how Lilith had managed to learn about Mount Doom restarting and get two thousand-plus demons and a Chaos Maelstrom together so quickly. He’d had no clue that the volcano had restarted until he’d talked to Lilith’s toady at Hellsprings Eternal.
Of course, he had not been giving his full attention to things in the Abyss; his never-ending battle with the Demiurge continued to occupy way too much of his time. One had to wonder if it was worth the battle for such a mana-depleted set of worlds. It was however, enjoyable, a pleasing way to pass the millennia. The low-mana environment meant he and his agents had to use human proxies and had to rely on subterfuge and misdirection a great deal more than usual.
He shook his head. That was neither here nor there; the problem at hand was that Mount Doom was awake and the balance of power in the Abyss was preparing to shift. He looked back to the battlefield. The D’Orcs had pulled back from Lilith’s embattled demons. They were now surrounding the very battered demons, rather than being mixed among them. Sammael shook his head. The demons did not seem to be regenerating very well. It appeared that Tom was somehow draining excess mana out of the region, which would impede regeneration.
Lesteroth arched his aching back; he had finally been able to get Bellyachus’s head removed from the demon’s rear end. It had been rather disgusting, truth be told, but poor Bellyachus was in such pain — his horns going in and out had been rather damaging. The worst part was that regeneration didn’t seem to be working too well, so they were all just standing there dripping blood and demon goo, vainly trying to reattach their limbs as the D’Orcs disengaged and moved to surround them.
He had no idea what was about to happen, but the fact that they were not regenerating was not a good sign. Lesteroth’s stomach twisted with anxiety. At least Bellyachus was so focused on his excruciating pain that he did not have time to worry about his likely nonexistent future.
From the front of the demons, behind the heavily armored and armed D’Orcs now surrounding them, a large figure rose. Lesteroth was not quite sure if the demon was standing up from a kneeling position or growing. He recognized him as the demon that had frozen the Abyss; he was very much your classical-style demon. Insanely huge human muscles on the upper torso and arms; spiky, scaly goat legs; nasty spade tail; giant bat wings. Monstrous black horns and wickedly long claws. Pretty much your classic demon pretty boy. Some demons have all the luck! Lesteroth cursed to himself. The guy was like demonic perfection.
“Servants of the Jilted Bride!” the demon shouted. Half the army — or half of those still capable — hissed at that statement, not so much from anger as from fear. The Jilted Bride was the NEVER-spoken name of Lilith. Well, not actually a name; more of a title, in fact, or an epithet. There was no better way to guarantee one’s own horrible, terrible, unpleasant death than to use that title.
“I am Lord Tommus, Master of Doom,” the demon thundered. “You are in my domain!”
Yeah, the ice and snow have made that rather obvious, Lesteroth thought to himself. Being snarky in his last few moments of life was the only comfort he had left.
“Therefore, your lives and souls are forfeit to me!”
The demons moaned at this. Several soldiers tried to rail against the demon lord, but by and large they did not have the energy. They were too exhausted, too wounded. They all knew they were dead.
“As far as I am concerned at this moment, you are all dead!” the demon thundered.
Lesteroth felt his stomach curl as he braced himself for the D’Orc charge that was about to come.
“And I, Tommus, am Lord of the Dead in the Abyss! Thus my word is law!” the demon thundered again.
This guy was rambling a lot for a general. Obviously, he had been to Dark Overlord School. If only there was a hero around who could slay him while he pontificated. Lesteroth shook his head. He was scared, dark lord snark or not. This stupid diatribe did serve to prolong his final anxiety before his eternal demise.
“Since I control all, by my grace I shall give you each four choices!” the Dark Lord Tommus shouted.
Four choices? What, die fighting, die lying down, or die standing up? Hmm, what’s the fourth? Lesteroth wondered.
“My warriors will open a corridor behind you. You have my word that if you enter that corridor, you may return to Lilith and report your failure,” the demon lord stated. That caused quite a few murmurs. Of course, no one was going to take that option, but it would prolong one’s life so that one could be horribly tortured.
“Alternatively, you do not have to return to Lilith; you can simply make your way in the Abyss. You may not return to Doom’s Redoubt, however. I own that now.”
He would let them just go? Let them wander off into the Abyss? Lesteroth shrugged. That was an option, at least until Lilith’s people tracked them down and took them in for torture. Could take several years, maybe a century.
“Third,” the demon lord proclaimed, “you may stay where you are and my warriors will chop you up into smaller pieces. As you can see, you are not regenerating at the moment. We will spend considerable time chopping your corpses into bite-sized pieces, let you rot for a small eternity, and then the storms will return to send your bits to the far ends of the Abyss. This is the option you came in with. Death at our hands. Death at the hands of those you have harassed for four thousand years!”
“Finally…” The demon lord paused for a moment. “You may lay down your weapons and swear eternal allegiance to me and accept my binding.” Lesteroth shook his head. He could not have heard that right. “You will swear allegiance to me, you will put aside all past grievances with my people. You will join my army. In return, you can regenerate and you will be protected from Lilith and given a place to live that’s better than a cave or Lilith’s dungeon.”
That really shook things up.
“How can we trust you?” Darflow asked loud enough for all his demons to hear.
The demon lord shrugged. “It really doesn’t matter; the default is that we finish killing you all here and now. So how would taking any of my options be worse?” He gestured to the D’Orcs in the rear.
Lesteroth could not see, but from the murmurs, he assumed they were opening the corridor.
“Any of you want to leave? Go now. The rest will see that I allow their comrades to leave,” the dark lord said.
No one moved for some time, and then slowly one or two demons began moving towards the exit. One demon — Forwith, Lesteroth thought — began marching down the tunnel the D’Orcs had opened. He got to the end and looked back, rather incredulous that no one had stopped him. He turned back and launched himself into the air.
“Now is when the lightning bolt comes down and blasts him out of the sky,” Bellyachus whispered, apparently now paying attention. Lesteroth nodded and Talgorf chuckled nervously. However, nothing happened. The demon simply flew off.
After a few moments of continued silence, a few more began to depart. They left, one after the other, walking to the end of the tunnel and launching themselves into the sky. None was struck from the sky. None was pursued. It was very odd. This Dark Lord Tommus was actually allowing demons to escape!