IV.
The Devil used his leathery wings to surprise the Lilim from above, shooting arrows and killing seven before landing among them. He drew his sword and severed limbs, cracked skulls and ruptured bones while roaring much louder than the agonizing screams of the demons. Hell echoed the thunder of its lord's voice and reemitted it like an earthquake wave, waking every being in the valley, making it tremble in fear. His sword hummed after it savored blood, asking for more, and he provided it willingly.
No Lilim was left alive as Lucifer Morningstar claimed his divine right as ruler.
He crouched and casted off, changing the appearance of his wings. The angelic white of his feathers glowed and immersed the surroundings in an eerie soft light the creatures of the realm had rarely experienced. Plants, fungi, and beasts alike turned towards it and followed the wings when he took flight again and darted in direction of the Lilim legion he had spotted. Ash ignited, sparked and disappeared around him.
By the time he stooped at the legion, Soneillon had confronted it with his own demons.
Sharp, long spears were thrown, many warriors impaled at the same time. The sight of thousands of successfully targeted Lilim was terrifying to the enemy legion, causing them to stop and crouch with their shields to protect themselves. This proved to be a very difficult task as other ranks in the back were still pushing forward. When the spears reached the Lilim, the sharp points pierced the shields and the shafts folded under the impact which rendered the protection useless as they could not be carried anymore. Dromos' army had no choice but to battle without them and was left without protection for the warriors.
All Hell had broken loose and Lucifer was the epicenter. His lust for vengeance ignited his eyes and his fangs grew sharper, stronger and darker each time he buried them into an adversary. The sword drowned in crimson blood, the blade singing, matching its lord's continuous roar.
His loyal swordsmen followed his example and proceeded to destroy Dromos' legion completely. They used a short sword similar to the Roman gladius, being trained to stab at the enemy in a very fast back and forth motion. This action was most effective as it meant a much faster rate of attack; something Lucifer had taught Soneillon two millennia ago after witnessing the Punic wars. The Lilim bled as soon as they had reached the bland parts.
Halberds, spears, axes, personal daggers, and arrows of the unorganized aid from the villagers found their target sooner or later. What they lacked in numbers they put up with fierceness and determination. The beasts also carried their masters towards the enemy, stampeding through the ash clouds, trampling on everything or everybody on their path. Heads were torn from necks, arms from shoulders, feet from legs. Bodies disemboweled, guts spilling fluids of different provenience - a feast for scavengers.
xxxxx
It was a disastrous defeat for Dromos' Lilim - none of their corpses left intact. Their blood fertilized the soil and spores flew into every direction, pristine messengers of war.
Lucifer had no sense of the time he had been on the battlefield, how long he had been wading through fallen Lilim, hissing, screaming and roaring. His sharp primary feathers, incessantly cutting into demon flesh, were tainted with blood, but he did not feel exhausted. Quite the opposite, it was exhilarating. He breathed and flehmed firmly, taking in the now foul stench of fast decomposing intestines and a good look at the surroundings. Male and female warriors lay slain around him, covering a good part of this section of the valley. Shrubs, weeds, and moss had absorbed the bodily liquids and were entirely tainted red. He had spared none, but he did not make out Dromos. He noticed that the first small beasts had made their way to feed on them. Hell was merciless and flesh welcomed food. He strode over them and looked for Soneillon's forces. Many demons from the villages had equally perished but most warriors were roaring their victory against the ash, the wind carrying the sound into every corner of the valley.
Soneillon himself was injured, but stood at attention when his king approached, head deeply bowed, fist on his chest.
The Devil greeted him formally before he drank from the offered wineskin.
"The victory is yours, Soneillon. You did train them well."
Soneillon noticed the changes in Lucifer's appearance but chose not to mention them again. It was clear that the former archangel was turning into something dangerous and more powerful than he had been before leaving Hell - and was willing to sacrifice every lifeform on this plane to achieve his revenge. It was much better staying in his good graces.
"My Lord, it was your tactic and it was successful. Still Dromos wasn't with them."
"Indeed. But no Lilim escaped. We have an advantage here. Let your legion rest. The warriors shall celebrate before we continue and hunt the upraised children of Lilith."
Lucifer started to preen his feathers with another wineskin of water, making his general feel more at ease. Demons huddled together, curing their wounds, cleaning their weapons, building tents, and gathering food to eat before twilight.
Lucifer's brothers Purah and Purcel were approaching the designated area without having encountered any major resistance. Both had not been so lucky in conserving their angelical form. Purcel had changed his name as had Lucifer, his meaning 'little swine'. He was defiant, ill-mannered, and outspoken. He had lost his wings, his limbs had been reduced, feet even toed, and additionally sporting a little tail. Purah, master of oblivion, commanded his own Lilim who had been loyal to him and rejected Dromos' claim on Hell. Purah had been turned into a haggard shadow of himself, always melancholic, wings dangling useless on his hunched back, which he had trimmed and bent together so he would not stumble over them, his skin's pale grey matching his braided thinning hair. The braids bore a certain resemblance to rat tails if one were to ask Lucifer.
As his followers during the rebellion they had lost all celestial powers and were not more than simple dwellers of Hell. Nonetheless they conserved their sharp minds which made them born leaders. Lucifer had let them live an autonomous life and they had made themselves at home in the wild behind the wastelands and near the river Archeron, far away from the howling of the tortured souls and the King's throne. Sometimes Lucifer wondered how their life would have been if they had not followed his call. Would they have been simple malachim following his father's orders? Most likely. He was grateful that they were fighting with him, ensuring his reign, but he would certainly not reveal it. Loyalty from the host, even fallen ones, was expected. He would meet them shoulder by shoulder in battle soon.
The Devil finished carefully removing blood and several broken feathers, shook the wings to get rid of any ash or water drops and made them disappear before he focused on the troops around him. Demons observed him in awe, many outright dreaded him. Of course they did, and they should. He had slaughtered hundreds of Lilim, maybe thousands. He pulled his hood back over his head, carefully touching the new cartilage on his skull. That would become bone, so much was clear. He inhaled sharply. For every action there was a reaction.
"Sire." Lucifer looked up and into the eyes of the decurion of his turma. It had taken the group a good part of the light period to reach the battlefield and get through it. And they were all still alive. The decurion bowed in front of him. "We have brought your beast."
"I thank you well, …optio."
After promoting him with this simple mention of rank, Lucifer rose and put his clawed hand on the demon's arm. He snapped with his fingers, that still worked somehow, and two demons produced a cloak, a full wineskin, and a large piece of meat. "Sit with me!" he demanded while the experienced warrior and his group of equites took a place at his feet to enjoy the hot meal.
"Soneillon! These warriors are fearless. I want them to fill ranks in your legion."
The demon looked at the Devil realizing that there was a possible weak spot he could explore and perhaps exploit later. The Devil got attached to loyal beings. As he had done with Mazikeen.
"As you wish, my Lord." He took a seat on a rock and drank from his own supply.
"What news do you have?" inquired Lucifer.
"We have killed almost fifty thousand Lilim being only thirty thousand ourselves. We had about ten thousand casualties, mainly untrained traders and village people."
"That was effective, wouldn't you say? We need to reward your legion generously." As feared as he wanted to be, he also required loyal followers, and this could only be achieved if they got something in return. "Do send somebody to fetch the fermented weeds." Alcohol was always welcome. "And double their promised payment when returning."
Soneillon grinned. "They are already satisfied with wading in their enemy's blood."
"No doubt there." Lucifer showed his fangs and lifted his wineskin. "To the victorious legion!" The soldiers cheered and drank. The Devil himself did not want a simple victory, he needed to make it a triumph in the Latin sense of the word, complete annihilation of the enemy, or there wouldn't be any possibility of returning to Earth.
He rose and cited a fitting quote from Churchill: "You ask, what is our aim? I can answer in one word. It is victory, victory at all costs, victory in spite of all terror, victory, however long and hard the road may be; for without victory, there is no survival."
The demons started to roar again, this time hailing Lucifer. He stood up and thundered back, the soundwave dispersing the ash and rattling the ground. Dromos would take notice, but so would other Lilim and that was what he desired.
For most of the soldiers it was the first hearty meal in a long time. They would indulge and the hate for Dromos' adherents would grow further.
While the crowd still feasted, many female warriors started to dance showing off the still bloodstained weapons of their victims, growling and yelling their attack-howl, jumping, and crouching, lauding their victory. Male warriors met them after the first dance, stomping on the ground, the ash whirling up, crouching and moving around their own axis, and offering their adornments, be them made of metal, horn, bone, or fur, to the female they desired for the nighttime. Several dozens of night falls from now spawns would come into existence and create a stronger warrior class according to their belief. Lucifer followed the ritual with interest. Various females danced in front of him and enticed him to join in, but he did not stand up. Instead he ordered more alcohol and food for them.
He was the host, not the entertainment tonight.