The Demon King's Hero Of Light 9 Chapter 9 Opponents 14 Through 16

"The next opponent will be Vesh the Unyielding!" cried the announcer as she paused to look at the next demon.

His deep blue, almost purple skin seemed to exude an att.i.tude of hate and disgust as he threw his maul over his shoulder and marched over to his spot.

"Our king should not be a half-human!" he declared, taking a stance.

The gong went off before she was back in her spot, catching her off guard. There were several shouts from the crowd, but she was completely focused on Vesh as he charged her. Timing it right, she charged back at him, jumping up as he swung at her, and she jumped onto the maul, flipping over the top of him, and slas.h.i.+ng at his face with her axe.

Landing and sliding a little, she immediately jumped back at him, dodging his wild swing at her and swinging her axe as hard as she could at his exposed side, burying the head before jumping away again. Sitting in a crouch, weaponless, Aella watched as he stumbled back, grabbing the axe and flinging it away.

She could hear the crowd cheering all around her, with some chanting her name, but she wasn't sure if she had done enough to put Vesh in his place. Her axe had cut his face from his left jaw up across his face, and taking out his right eye. Blood poured down his face, and he was panting to breathe through his mouth.

With a roar, he charged at her again, swinging his maul with both hands, as if to crush her. She darted to his right, knowing he was blind on this side, and shoved her hand into the cut she had made, grabbing one of his ribs, that had partially been sticking out, and jerked it along with her as she rolled away from his wild grab at her. Holding up his rib, for him to see it, she smiled and waited for him to attack again.

"Yield, or I will continue to whittle you away," she said, as he stood there, contemplating her.

"The healers cannot heal my eye, so I am useless as a general," he spat.

"I am sure I could find other healers in my kingdom," she shrugged, standing up straight, but holding on to the rib.

"If you die quickly to the human's I will claim your throne," he spat again, as blood from his nose continued to run unchecked.

"I would expect one of you to do so," she nodded, not giving him what he wanted exactly.

They both stood there for another second longer, allowing the other to understand what they meant, then he dropped his maul and headed towards the healers, for whatever good they could do him. Aella rather liked the slash across his face. It would form an awesome scar to terrify his subordinates.

"The winner! Aella the Terrific! Her next opponent will be Firion the Well Endowed!" cried the announcer as she jogged quickly over to the weapons rack. She had no idea when they would sound the gong, now that she was almost done.

The last of the demons she had to fight, were starting to eye each other, as if to determine if they actually wanted to fight her still. She pretended to be tired in the beginning, but if the last couple of fights were any indication, she probably wouldn't have problems with any of them.

"I don't know how you keep winning, whelp, but I a.s.sure you, I am nothing like the others you have fought," growled Firion, hefting a mighty hammer that sported a d.i.c.k on the tip between the two hammerheads.

She wasn't sure if the hammerheads were supposed to represent his b.a.l.l.s or not, and didn't really care to find out. Grabbing the first weapon she could, a small pick, she dashed back to her spot just before the gong went off.

As he charged towards her, she crouched, waiting for him to get closer, before she jumped forward, as he swung his first swing, and rolled between his legs. Darting her hand out, she stabbed the back of his left calf with her pick, and jerked it out as he stumbled forward. Whipping around, he struggled to keep weight on his injured leg as he jumped at her, grasping with both hands, his hammer forgotten in the dirt.

She jumped away, but his arms were longer, and he was rewarded with catching her ankle. Before he could twist, or crush, or whatever, she whipped around even faster than he had, and drove her pick into his arm. Before he could react to that, she had jerked her foot free, and began swinging the pick over and over, stabbing both his arms multiple times, before she jumped back out of his reach.

Blood dripped off the tip of her pick as she stood there watching him cry. His arms were useless, and without magical healing, he would never be able to use them again.

"Why?" he asked, between sobs, struggling to pull his arms back to himself, to cradle them against his chest.

"I am going to be king. I cannot afford to be lenient to those who I see as opponents. You dropped your weapon, to fight me with your bare hands. If you had kept your weapon, I would have a broken leg right now. Why did you drop your weapon?"

His whimpers ceased almost immediately, and his crumpled face went blank. The cold look he gave her almost gave her chills.

"I was going to hurt you with my bare hands. I wanted to hear you scream."
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She nodded. "That is why."

He tilted his head to the side, thoughtfully. "How did you know?"

"That weapon isn't your preferred weapon. The callouses on your hands tell me that you prefer swords. The muscles necessary to use that hammer aren't big enough in your arms and back. You chose it, because you like the picture it presented, and probably wanted to hurt me because I am small and a girl."

He glanced back at the hammer that lay just on his other side and then turned back to her with a cold smile.

"I will hurt you, little girl. You should kill me now."

She smiled back with an even colder smile, and stepped forward, causing his smile to wilt. "I'm sure I will, Firion. But only I will know when."

As his smile disappeared, the announcer proclaimed her the winner, and she knew he was watching her walk over to the weapons rack, instead of the healers who were rus.h.i.+ng over to help him with the little help they could offer.

Frederik and Seifer greeted her with congratulations as she tossed the pick over with the kamas and grabbing her short swords from Frederik. Morden the Powerful was already near his spot, swinging his two short swords around to warm up, as she began to head to her spot. The gong sounded long before she reached it, and the crowd booed the judge who was in charge of it.

Morden had begun to charge at her, but stopped when two demons from the crowd reached over and grabbed the counselor in charge of the gong. Aella watched as well, keeping half an eye on Morden. The guards immediately jumped into action, pulling the counselor back out of the crowds reach, but it was too late. Both of his wings had been torn off, and one of his ma.s.sive horns was gone. Cuts and scratches dotted his upper body, and his clothing was torn to shreds. Without hesitation, he was rushed away, and the crowd calmed down. One of the two that cheered Aella on took his seat and waved for them to proceed. None of the other counselors raised a finger against him, eyeing the crowd.

"Shall we begin?" asked Morden.

She nodded, taking a stance as he approached with his swords raised. He had the same stance as she had used so many times, she knew exactly what blows to expect.

As he held his swords up and circled around her, she noticed he was watching her feet as well. Making sure her feet followed the pattern he was expecting, she swung her sword out of rhythm and caught him in the chest, surprising him. As blood welled up and began to slide down his chest, he looked up and blocked her next blow.

"You shouldn't rely on the teachings of one form," she said, dancing back as he tried to counterstrike.

"How could you know more than one form? They said you hadn't been trained at all!"

She merely smiled as she took a different stance, motioning for him to attack.

A frown formed as he tried to attack, swinging again and again, but no matter what he did, she managed to block and dance out of the way.

"You have promise," she said, knocking his swords aside and cutting his chest again, forming an 'X'. His blue blood contrasted with the dark red of his skin.

"This is stupid!" he cried, jumping back before she could attack him again. "How can you joke and play after 16 opponents?!"

"Do you think I'm not tired? What kind of a king would I be if I let my opponent know how tired I am?"

"Yet you showed us all how tired you were earlier!" he cried, shaking his head in annoyance.

She merely smiled and took yet another stance, and motioned for him to continue.

"No! I'm done. I will bow to you as my king, because I know that I couldn't have done what you've done! This fight is rigged!" He sheathed his swords and bowed on one knee before her, to the cheers and screams of the crowd.

She glanced over at the counselors who were shaking their heads in incredulity and disbelief, then at the last two opponents. The one holding the broadsword looked like he had swallowed something distasteful, and the other, who was holding the double headed battle axe, was looking at her thoughtfully. She knew immediately who was to be her next opponent, and ignoring Morden, she jogged over the weapons rack. It was time to use her favorite weapons.

"The winner is Aella the Fantastic! Next up is Balo the Worthy!"