Creating A Succubus Army In A Fantasy World!

The sound of hooves echoed across the riverbank, each thunderous beat growing louder and more ominous. 

It was like a war drum pounding in the distance, sending vibrations through the ground. Creed and Dagga turned toward the source, their expressions tense and alert.

The river's calm flow seemed to mock the tension in the air as the hoofbeats grew louder, heavier, and faster. 

A fiery glow flickered in the distance, illuminating the darkness. Both of them froze, their instincts screaming danger.

"What is that?" Creed muttered, gripping his sword tightly. His transformed features with darkened skin and pitch black eyes made him look like a demon himself.

Beside him, Dagga's claws extended instinctively, his eyes narrowing.

The sound reached a peak, then broke in a blaze of fire and fury. 

A massive figure burst into view, riding a flaming horse that galloped onto the riverbank with unrelenting power.

The horse's mane burned like molten fire, its hooves striking the ground with enough force to send sparks flying. Smoke curled from its nostrils, and its glowing eyes were pits of hellish fire.

The rider was just as terrifying. Towering and clad in jagged, dark armour, the fiend demon radiated an aura of sheer malice. 

His horn curved like a ram's, and his piercing crimson eyes scanned the area with predatory precision.

Creed's heart pounded as the demon's aura washed over him, an overwhelming wave of malice and power that made his fingers tighten around his sword. 

"Dagga, we're in for a fight. Be ready," he said through gritted teeth.

But before Creed could take a step forward, Dagga suddenly shouted, "Jorim!"

Creed paused, his brows furrowing in confusion. He glanced at Dagga. "You know him?"

Dagga nodded, his stance loosening slightly. "Yeah, I know him. That's Jorim. He's like an elder brother to me."

Creed's scepticism flared. "You're sure about that? Because he doesn't look like he's here to share stories over a campfire."

Dagga shook his head quickly. "No, he can be trusted. I vow so."

Creed sighed, clearly unconvinced. "Alright, fine. But I'm staying out of the blast zone in case your 'brother' decides to turn us into ash." 

He backed away slightly, his sword still in hand, his eyes never leaving the massive figure.

Dagga stepped forward cautiously. Jorim dismounted from his flaming steed, the horse dissolving into black mist with a hiss. His heavy boots crushed the riverbank's soil as he approached. 

For a moment, his burning eyes softened ever so slightly as he looked at Dagga.

"Dagga," Jorim rumbled, his deep voice resonating like distant thunder. "You're alive."

Dagga nodded, a smile breaking across his face. "Barely. It's been... a long journey."

Jorim's gaze swept over Dagga critically. "You've changed. You look thinner. Weaker. Have you been eating properly? And your horns—they're dull. You've been fighting, haven't you?"

Dagga sighed deeply again. "It's been rough, yeah. But I've managed."

Jorim's eyes darkened. "Why did you run?" His voice was sharp, almost accusing.

Dagga flinched at the question, his smile faltering. "I couldn't stay there, Jorim. You know what it's like—the rules, the chains, the suffocating expectations. I wanted more. I wanted to live my life my way."

Jorim sighed, his towering figure seeming less imposing for a moment. ""Freedom... always chasing something you can't hold. You've always been stubborn. I don't agree with what you've done, but I won't judge you. It's your life."

Dagga's grin returned faintly. "That's more understanding than I expected from you."

Jorim snorted. "Someone has to be the reasonable one. But you've picked a terrible time to go rogue. The Blades of Aragoth are hunting you."

Dagga visibly stiffened, his eyes widening. "The Blades? Already?" 

Jorim nodded grimly. "They're relentless, Dagga. To them, you're a deserter. And deserters are dealt with harshly. You know how they operate. They think it's treason. They won't stop until you're either back in chains or dead."

Creed, who had been watching the exchange from a distance, finally stepped closer. 

Jorim's eyes flicked to him, narrowing as he studied Creed's altered appearance—blackened skin, horns, pitch black eyes, and the faint sinister energy radiating from his third eye.

"And who's this?" Jorim asked, his tone sharp. "He doesn't look like a fiend demon. Or did you find someone as crazy as you to join your rebellion?"

Dagga chuckled awkwardly. "Uh, this is Hukuna. He's... a friend. Not a pure fiend demon. He looks like that because of... reasons."

Jorim raised an eyebrow. "Reasons? So he's a mixed breed? You're friends with a mixed breed?"

"Do not talk about my friend like that!" Dagga's voice rose as his nostrils flared in anger. It appeared talking about Creed in a degrading way triggered his anger, despite him not knowing why.

Jorim didn't look convinced. "A friend, huh? Well, your 'friend' better stay out of trouble. The Blades won't distinguish between him and you if they see him like this. And believe me, he'll have it worse than you."

Creed cut in, his tone serious. "The Blades of Aragoth—how close are they?"

Jorim glanced at him, his expression darkening. "Closer than you'd like. But I've bought you time. I've created a distraction to throw them off. There's an escape route nearby, one that'll keep you hidden if we move quickly. It won't be easy, but it'll keep you alive."

As Jorim spoke, Creed's sharp eyesight caught something—a minuscule movement of Jorim's hand behind his back. It was almost imperceptible, but something about it sent alarm bells ringing in Creed's mind.

His eyes narrowed. 'What is he doing?'

The motion was too deliberate to be innocent. His mind raced, piecing together the possibilities. Suddenly, it clicked. His eyes widened in realisation.

"Dagga, watch out!" Creed shouted.

The warning came a fraction of a second before Jorim pulled a dagger from behind his back, its blade glinting with a sickly green hue. 

It slashed toward Dagga's throat in a swift, deadly arc.

Dagga barely reacted in time, stumbling backward as the blade grazed his collar. Blood spattered the ground as he clutched his neck, eyes wide with shock.

"Jorim, what the hell are you doing?!" Dagga shouted, his voice raw with betrayal.

Jorim's face twisted into something unrecognisable, his earlier warmth replaced by cold fury. "You think I don't know why you really left?! You think I don't know what you stole?! You're going to ruin us all because of your stupidity! You're a traitor, Dagga. And traitors don't deserve mercy!"

Creed stepped forward, sword in hand, his voice icy. "So much for being an elder brother," he growled.

Jorim's fiery aura flared, his dagger glowing with malevolent energy. The flames of his steed reignited as the massive horse appeared once more, casting long, flickering shadows across the riverbank.

The tension was unbearable. The calm river, once serene, now seemed to hold its breath as both sides faced off.

It was about to go down.

[WebNovel Rising Star II Entry] ALL SUPPORT is appreciated.

Don't hesitate to add it to your library and give Power Stones!!

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Power stone Goal!

20 PS - 1 Bonus chapter

50 PS - 2 Bonus chapter

100 PS (Quite an achievement as of now) - 3 Bonus chapters.

[How many of you were expecting such a plot twist?! Leave a comment!]