They both collapsed onto the snow-covered floor—one covered from head to toe in arctic blue blood, the other almost completely clean except for her hand. Both were utterly exhausted.
Their mana was completely drained. Their bodies no longer responded as fast, if they responded at all.
But at least the worst was behind them.
Or so they thought.
The sound reached them first: a slow, calm clap.
Clap.
Clap.
Clap.
It was deep and rough, as if the hands making the sound were two slabs of hardened leather striking one another.
And then they saw it. In the distance, two glowing eyes ignited the mist—one a deep crimson red, the other a deep, radiant purple.
Taking a closer look, the creature appeared to have the head of a bird, an owl, to be exact. Its eyes were larger than a normal owl's, wide open and unblinking, lacking any visible eyelids. It was as though they were permanently fixed that way.
Even with its mouth closed, they could see the sharp, talon-like teeth lining the inside of its beak.
The feathers on its body were a rich palette of deep purple and black, blending in a way that gave it a natural, unsettling beauty.
While its head and neck were avian, its midsection was completely different.
From the shoulders down to where its stomach should have been, it took the form of a wolf.
Its fur was a deep, pitch black that seemed to absorb all light. Upon its chest was a triangular patch where feathers and fur mingled.
Its two front paws—which it was using to clap—were thick and wolf-like, packed with muscle and tipped with sharp claws that clicked together with each slap.
But it didn't end there.
Where hind legs should have been, there was instead a long, serpentine tail covered in thick, sharp purple scales.
The very tip of the tail was a deep crimson red, and whenever it shifted, a dry, menacing rattle echoed through the air.
Finally, it stopped its horrid clapping and opened its vile mouth. As its jaws parted, tiny droplets of orange liquid fell from within.
It spoke in a voice that sounded like a man choking on water.
It asked only one question
"Do you yield?"
Though the voice was horrid, its tone was anything but—calm and measured, like a commander surveying a battlefield.
When they didn't answer, it tilted its head to the side and asked again in the same even tone.
"Do you yield?"
Still no reaction. It tilted its head the other way—and disappeared.
The only Proof it was ever there was the giant cloud of snow that rose with its disappearance and the sound it made when it left
BOOOOOM!!
It reappeared directly in front of them, lashing out with its tail and sending them both flying through the air.
It hadn't disappeared. It was just moving faster than their exhausted senses could follow.
When they landed back in the snow, it looked at them and asked once more.
"Do you yield?"
Again, no answer.
It attacked again, this time with a swift, brutal strike that broke the hands they raised to block.
Even that was useless.
This time, it spoke differently before repeating its question.
"If you lay down your weapons and bow your heads, your deaths will be quick. So let me ask you once more
Do you yield?"
And that was when it finally got a response.
"We don't yield,"
Olivia said, her hands already slowly knitting back together.
"We won't yield. Now, why should we bow to you? Who are you for us to bow to, you ugly little creature?"
Azrael's voice joined hers, raw but unwavering.
"We will never bow again. Never again. We've done enough bowing for four people's lifetimes combined.
Even here—exhausted, threatened with death—we would much rather die here than bow to you."
They spoke as one, their voices aligning in perfect synchronization.
67/100
Contrary to what they expected, their lives did not end with those words.
The creature didn't move for a full minute. Then its mouth closed completely. Its feathers puffed up, and its tail began to swing slowly back and forth.
Then it planted its muscular paws firmly into the snow, digging its claws deep as a brilliant black light began to shine from its body.
"Hahahahaha! I knew my future master would have to be at least this magnificent! But to find his first wife just as unbreakable… Truly, my luck knows no bounds!"
When the dark light faded, the horrific chimera was gone.
In its place stood a man-shaped figure—or as close to a man as one could get.
Where a human head should have been was the sleek, intelligent head of a raven, its eyes still glowing with that same crimson and violet light.
But they had no time to process its new appearance. Just as quickly as it had changed form, its mood shifted.
Instead of attacking or questioning them further in their exhausted state, it dropped to its knees and lowered its head into the snow.
What the hell? was the only thought that managed to form in their stunned minds.
Then it spoke again, its voice now a resonant, articulate baritone that hummed with power.
"I, Amon Goetic Prince, Great Marquis of Hell, commander of over forty legions of demons, pledge my eternal loyalty to you."
A complex, burning sigil flared to life in the air before them.
"I present to you my sigil, so that all that I am, and all that I will ever be, may be of eternal servitude to you. Azrael Tiamat. Grandson of Mana."
DING!!!!!!
[A PACT OF ETERNAL SERVITUDE HAS BEEN PROPOSED!]
[ENTITY: AMON, THE DEMONIC MARQUIS (GOETIC LEGEND)]
[SEEKS TO BIND HIS SOUL, LEGIONS, AND POWER TO: AZRAEL MORNINGSTAR]
[WARNING: ACCEPTING THIS CONTRACT WILL ESTABLISH YOU AS AN OFFICIAL CONTENDER FOR THE THRONE.]
[DO YOU ACCEPT?]
[YES] / [NO]