Chasmfiend hated crowds.
Especially when they were compromised of demented half-humans beasts and the people running from them, who kept getting in the way.
Suffice to say, there were a lot of dead behind him.
There was only a small distance between him and the end of the crowd, and he fought like a madman. Except madmen can’t vaporize or blow people up. He touched a Demented’s head, and its skin seemed to bloat, and it exploded. Another he touched bubbled, then seemed to turn to steam. One fell to the ground like slime. He cut swaths of them with his sword, clearing the path. At the end of the crowd, he looked back. Hundreds must have been dead. Mostly by his hand, he guessed. Most were not Demented. But, in war, only those who served you or you served were required to live.
A small band of normal humans came up to him. “Umm… Hello. We wish to serve you, great one.” He bowed down.
Chasmfiend assumed they wanted protection. He would give it to them. “Who were your masters?”
“They’re all dead, sir.”
“Fine, Come along, and don’t get in my way, squires.” He touched each one on the forehead, and they looked confused. “You fight when I fight. You are strong and fast now, though not immortal.” Chasmfiend glimpsed someone out of the corner of his eye, in the shadows.
The man turned to run, just to find Chasmfiend in front of him again in a second. “You saw nothing. My squires are for no one to know.” The vanilla nodded as fast as he could, but he knew he was doomed. Chasmfiend touched his forehead, and his skin slowly seemed to bulge, in contrast to the rapid bulging of the others he had killed. The vanilla screamed a high, agonizing wail, and finally exploded.
“Squires, come. We have a palace to get to.” The squires ran to catch up.
~||~
The man looking through the binoculars a mile behind Chasmfiend sighed. His brother was certainly powerful. This would be a hard fight. But he could do it. His brother was not as much a genius as him. He would win.
