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The Demon King's Hero Of Light 85 Chapter 85 Slave Brand

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"Your Majesty, Rannaun is awake."

She studied Varnin carefully, but Aella didn't see any signs of emotion in the demoness.

"Bring him here," she said, looking back down at the papers spread out before her. The food she had brought from the chicken chest, would be enough to get them through the coming winter, but disease had broken out among the workers to the north, who were clearing out the dead. The orphanage was full to capacity, and people were complaining once again about crime in the streets. Firion was overwhelmed with everything she wanted him to do, but refused to let her take any of the work. He had started using the a.s.sa.s.sins she had him training, as night guards, and it seemed to be working well. The night time curfew she had instated was finally starting to curb some of the crime.

The pink demon stared at the floor as he entered the throne room, walking up to the table she sat at, and fell to his knees, still staring at the floor. His hair hung limp along his shoulders, and the color of his skin was dusky. He may have survived, but there were lasting issues that seemed to be draining him of energy.

"Tell me what you know about the church."

"The human I was to speak to was named Sebastian. I was to report to him twice a day, if able, and I was to tell him everything I could about you and the heroes. He seemed very interested in what you were doing," he said in a soft monotone, with no emotion to his words.

"What else?" she prodded, pulling out her goggles and checking to make sure he wasn't being controlled magically. There was nothing magical about him, so she put them back up.

"I was to co-ordinate with Jirga, anything that presented itself, concerning the water usage within the city, as well as any signs that you may have more powers than you should."

"What does that mean?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.

He swallowed before continuing, "Any time you were seen doing magic, of any kind, I was to note it and verify with Jirga later, then report it to the church. I believe they keep track of what magic the palace gives each king, but I am not sure. The last Water Advisor died only a month before you were crowned king, so I have not had the position very long."

"How many spies are in the palace and city, from the church?" she asked, tapping her fingers against the table.

"I don't know exactly, but dozens. There are operatives in every place that could cause the city major damage."

"Like, where?" asked Aella, frowning at the thought of more trouble. The city had enough going on, without the church causing more.

"Every main water line is rigged to be destroyed, if the order is given. The sewers have lines running along them, where damage could bring down whole buildings, and even cause instability along the river, so that it would flood a good section of the city."


Aella studied the demon before, realizing how his position had created the perfect opportunity for the church to completely destroy everything, and to kill an untold number of people, especially with everyone having flocked to the city for safety.

"That's why the one building already fell, they hit one of those lines you mentioned. Anything else?" She watched him as he seemed to sag even more.
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"They have a plan in the works, to release another colossal monster. Instead of a storm, it will take the form of an earthquake. The damage will be even worse than the last one."

"How many of these things do they have?"

"I think that is the last one. Jirga had mentioned it to me, saying it was a last chance thing. I…I don't know why they would be willing to do such a thing. It would be capable of destroying their side of the valley, as well as the lands to the south, where the other races live. If they released such a thing, it could start a war with the other races, rather than just end this one." His voice caught and he lost his monotone as he fretted over the stupidity and hopelessness of the situation.

"You will be taken to the dungeons, as a traitor to the crown and the kingdom, as you are. If you think of anything else, be sure to let me know, as it may reflect your sentence. Once I think up a suitable punishment for you, I will inform you. There is far too much for me to do at this point in time, to bother with you right now. Unless you would have me kill you, instead?"

She watched as he flinched at her question, and he quickly shook his head no, without raising his eyes from the floor.

"Take him away," she said, turning back to the papers before her as two guards grabbed his shoulders and led him away. If he thought he had a prayer of surviving, he might come up with some more interesting tidbits concerning the church. The biggest worry she had was, who else might be communicating with the church? If the church had access to those spies without the advisors, they could order the destruction of her entire city at any time. With so many people in it at the moment, she needed to deal with this threat immediately.

"Xathtak, how are the sewers coming along? Have your workers seen anything that might resemble what he mentioned?"

"There could be some truth to it, as well as hidden tunnels that have been revealed as the workers repair walls. Most of the damage is to the center core of the city. If such a thing were to occur, where the city was to collapse, and then the river walls destroyed, allowing the waters to flood the city… we may as well kiss this entire city goodbye." Her eyes were wide in terror as she worked through the possibilities, looking at Aella in controlled panic.

"Varnin, how is the surrounding countryside? Could we relocate the people in the city anywhere safer?"

"Not with winter coming on. We've already seen temperatures dropping low enough to cause frost in the mornings and water to start freezing."

"I'm sure this is the perfect time for the church to step up and attack in such a manner. If I hadn't solved the food issue, then the people would also be starving," grumbled Aella, standing up and pacing around the room.

"Just because the church is capable of these things, doesn't mean they will do them. I'm sure they are struggling with their own problems with the waters flooding them as well," said Orolon, referring to the fact that she had cut the storm in half, so the humans had been flooded on their side of the wall, just as they were flooded on this side.

"The problem, is that the storm went all along the mountains, for the entire length of the kingdom. We have so much more damage and dead than they do, it won't be causing them as much trouble. Have we heard from the west coast yet?"

"No, Your Majesty," said Varnin.

Her father, General Brimsey entered the throne room, just then, pausing to bow, before approaching her.

"How did you survive the storm, when every other demon in your army was killed?" she demanded, watching as he kneeled before her. He still wore his armor, though it hanged on him, as if it were damaged, or he had lost a lot of weight recently.

"I would prefer not to answer that in the present company," he said after a moment's hesitation.

Nodding, Aella stalked over to him, and grabbed his shoulder, teleporting the both of them to the ledge overlooking the portal in the north.

"Is this private enough?" she asked, crossing her arms.

He looked around, trying to figure out where they were.

"I don't know how you manage to do that, daughter, but it is fantastic. If your mother could do that, we would have been able to escape a long time ago."

"No, magic tethered you to the palace. Had you tried to escape like that, that tether would have killed you. Now, tell me how you survived."

"I didn't touch the magic circle, when I went to that spire, but they did tattoo me."

He pulled his s.h.i.+rt down, at the collar, and showed her a rune on his collarbone. It was the rune for slave.

"I never returned to the house, for fear you were there. I didn't want them to find out about you. I don't even know if they can control me now."

"Any other tattoos?" she asked, tilting her head to the side.

"No, just this one."

"Good. Then hold still," she said, forming a black knife in her hand. It was over in one quick swipe. Holding her hand over the bleeding wound, she healed it enough, that it would stop bleeding.

As he gasped in pain, they both watched the flap of flesh hit the ground and begin to sizzle on the stone. Before long, it was gone, blown away in a gust of wind.

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