Hell's Consort

<strong>[A/N] It took me a whole day to finish this. I mean 7 hours. TT^TT This FANTASY GENRE gives me a writing block. I keep changing my mind about what will happen next. I will write Contemporary next time. I apologize, and thanks for reading.</strong><strong></strong>

<strong>Newest Chapter For Highest Tier (February 2022)</strong>

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<strong>Archdemon of Gluttony</strong>

<strong>Prince Ravin of the 1st Circle of Hell</strong>

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'We can do this all day if you want to  continue this route, Vampire King.'

The instant Ravin was able to get closer to bite Apollyon in the shoulder, his jaws grew sharp, and he used that to tear his throat.

He was careful enough not to rip his entire flesh.

Ravin injected demonic venom at the tip of his needle-like fangs.

That should weaken him and cause his hallucinations in an instant.

The results might disappoint him since Apollyon's strength as a rogue vampire was unpredictable.

The toxin dripping in his teeth was a deadly curse that had the power of turning the Vampire King into a demon but not quite.

Ravin didn't do it enough to send him over the edge of death.

It was the only way he could subdue him without sending him to  Hell.

Apollyon's claws lengthened, and Ravin's fangs quickly released his shoulder and retreated so that he couldn't inflict more damage.

They continued to beat each other down.

When the Vampire King advanced towards him, he noticed that he seemed to stagger a bit like he was a drunkard.

Yes, Luna might be against his method if she knew, but the Empress had given him a mission to stop the Vampire King from destroying the Hazelnut Manor.

He hated playing the role of a savior, but so many Faeries had already died in the process.

Hellfire had flamed the Castle in blue, black, and white.

Most columns from the Great Hall alone had crumbled into pieces of rubble since the curse fires weren't able to confine the Vampire King.

He was slippery as a snake and very difficult to catch.

What was once a grand edifice had turned into this complete ruin that the Fae would no longer recognize.

Of course, it was difficult to prevent this chaos without killing Apollyon, but as his Amare's mate and familiar, he must honor her wishes.

The tiny Kingdom they inherited from Queen Morgan was already destroyed beyond repair.

With their hands and the air, Ravin couldn't care less about these servants, screaming and running around with no apparent direction.

Any royalties living in the Material Realm could bestow the Vampire King and the Empress with infinite gold, rare and valuable books, and such grand properties.

Still, Ravin could trust that either one of them to destroy these gifts in a few weeks or months.

Their unique ability to dismantle things was noteworthy, and they can do it easily without breaking a sweat.

Ravin shouldn't even forget about the unborn babies  Luna was carrying.

If she wasn't the careless one, now it was her husband, the Vampire King, who had attacked his wife for no reason.

The bastard promised to protect her and take care of her!

The Vampire King said that to his face all the damn time, acting all high and mighty that Ravin almost trusted him,  but then he couldn't even pull it off.

Such a bloody hypocrite!

He could hear the arguments in his head regarding Luna, and once again, Apollyon's words had provoked him into a rage.

The Vampire King didn't deserve her.

It should have been him.

If he weren't bound to a blood oath with Luna, then he would have absorbed him into his form and eaten his soul.

Just merely possessing the Vampire King's body wouldn't be enough for Ravin.

The Vampire King seemed to mirror his hurt and anger, and Ravin fed off his negative energy to make him stronger, fueling his hate, resentment, and jealousy.

Growling, He grew more violent and destructive with every Hellfire he threw at him.

He had inflicted life-threatening wounds on Apollyon, but unfortunately, the Vampire was as strong as an Archdemon.

He couldn't believe why the bastard was still standing and moving, avoiding his attacks.

In the blink of an eye, he managed to crush the windpipes of two  Fae guards when they made the mistake of stabbing him with their bronze swords from behind.

As an Archdemon, Ravin appreciated the helpful gesture even if he didn't need it.

This was the first time the creatures in this Realm considered him their ally, even at the cost of their own life.

Ravin smirked. 'Well, thank you and goodbye, idiots.'

If he were sent to Hell again with Amare, he would make an effort to recognize the two  Fae souls if they happened to be there.

Almost all of the guests during the Wine Tasting Ceremony had left the Great Hall, and only a few of the servants remained to witness until the end, using glamour to conceal themselves and blend into the… no, there were no walls.

No more background—only devastation.

The rogue Vampire King hadn't lost his murderous instinct inside of him.

His red cat-like eyes between his unusually colored scleras were focused on his every move while pointed claws had continued to slash unto Ravin.

Hours later, Ravin had grown weary even though he couldn't be like that.

A powerful Archdemon like him can exert himself in battle without tiring since they had limitless stamina and vitality.

What made Apollyon able to match his strength?

Did he drink any drug that wouldn't make him feel fatigued and that triggered him to become a rogue vampire?

How can he take his onslaught of attacks as if they were nothing—as if they didn't come from a powerful Archdemon prince?

Was he becoming weak because his Master, the Empress, was on her deathbed right at this moment because Sloth couldn't keep her alive?

Images of her giving birth and then disintegrating into ashes flashed through his mind.

Heartbeat racing, Ravin felt his adrenaline spike, but the obstructive thought had elicited another wave of anger in him, distracting him from the fight.

Apollyon didn't waste time and disappeared from Ravin's line of sight.

Using his teleportation ability, he moved in a split second and managed to chop his arm off with a single swing of the bronze sword he had stolen from the Fae he had killed earlier.

He released a pained groan not until his severed arm dropped to the floor.