The Demon Lord And His Hero

"Do you like it?" Elius asked Rowan as she showed him her dimension.

The place was peaceful, idyllic even with a little cottage surrounded by trees that grew pink blossoms. The immortal had never brought anyone here because it was her most private and special place; somewhere she could retreat to and feel secure within.

"I do," Rowan answered as he placed his arm around her waist, tugging her closer.

Elius smirked at the anti mage, letting her gaze linger over the supple lips that surely tasted like ambrosia. Just the thought of Rowan's mouth on her burning skin brought forth a fresh wave of temptation unlike any other.

"Do you know how to please a woman?" She asked him.

Rowan smiled, letting his fingers run through the nape of her neck where her hair was coiled. He gripped it gently and brought their faces close till they were both staring into each other's eyes.

"I know how to please myself, Elius."

The woman was smiling but she couldn't understand what Rowan was implying. That was until she felt the cold and sharp ache of pain in her chest, a sensation she hadn't known her immortal body could still feel. Elius looked down, not knowing what to expect.

"How?" She said in a quivering voice. How could she be injured by steel? By a weapon wrought from the hands of a mortal?

With a menacing gentleness, Rowan pushed the blade in deeper till its hilt was the only part of the kinfe that protruded from her chest. Between her full breasts, the wound began to turn black slowly as if the darkness was a living thing devouring her from the centre.

Fury like molten lava being spewed out of a raging volcano took the form of a harsh scream that came from the immortal's mouth.

"What have you done, Rowan?!"

The anti mage caught the falling woman even as her strength gave out and she felt paralysed by what had been done to her.

"I wouldn't resist it, Elius," he told her benevolently. "This knife was crafted from the essence of many slain demons. It's a beautiful tool I received to hunt the likes of you."

The woman's expression contorted into horror as she stared into his eyes. His placid blues were devoid of any humanity or kindness as he regarded her suffering form.

"You are a scourge, Rowan, an affliction upon this world," she said with much venom in her tone. It was unthinkable that an immortal like her was dying from the machinations of a mortal man whose powers couldn't hold a candle to hers when she was in her dimension. It was unacceptable to Elius, a tragedy and a travesty that would have never happened if she hadn't allowed him to seduce her.

"I know."

"Please don't let this happen," she whispered through the pain, trying to appeal to his better nature. Everyone knew that Rowan was insanely powerful among his kind, a tough nut to crack, but utterly soft on the inside. "Rowan..."

The blond had a hint of a smile on his face. It was like he had read her thoughts and found them amusing. With an obvious dash of contempt in his tone, Rowan said the harsh words that scattered the bit of hope she had in the goodness of his heart.

"You aren't the first, Elius, but your sacrifice will not be in vain."

The black plague had begun climbing up her neck like spidery veins creeping under her skin. Elius couldn't even move her lips to curse the man who was just as terrible as the demons he had killed. In hindsight, she should have been more suspicious about him. She should have resisted him. But Rowan had played a long and patient game with them. He had acted his part with such aplomb that even the others remained fooled by him. How long had he been pretending? He was a wolf in sheep's clothing and not even Syryn knew this. Elius was certain of that much. The fact that he had the dreaded weapon in his hands was proof that this man was colluding with the demonic emperor.

Elius feared for the future and for what would happen to the world if Rowan succeeded in his plans since he was making it obvious that the other immortals were on his menu. She closed her eyes and regretted bringing him to her dimension.

"This might hurt," she heard him say. Not a second later, a burning hot sensation erupted on her forehead and Elius screamed but the sound was stuck in her throat. The pain radiated like she was being scorched by a furnace on freshly scraped skin. Her senses mercifully left her as Elius' consciousness drifted in a sea of darkness.

Under the pink blossoms that were losing colour and fading to grey, Rowan dug out a gold teardrop-shaped stone from the forehead of the immortal. He turned it over in his palm till the stone began melting and disappearing into his skin.

The colors in the dimension began fading even faster as Rowan absorbed the gold liquid. By the time it was all gone, he was the only thing of color left inside what was once a vibrant dimension. The anti mage's eyes glowed blue as he smiled down at his empty palm. Gold hair like spun sunlight crowned his coldly beautiful face as he closed his eyes and took control of the dimension.

At his feet, Elius was a lifeless statue of black skin and black hair, plagued to death by the disease that had forced the deities to shun the demonic emperor.

When Rowan opened his eyes, the world was vivid again. He knelt down and removed the knife from Elius' chest, taking care not to touch the crimson blade with his bare hands. He then placed a cube on her stomach and watched as wisps of silver swirled into the cube, resisting all the way but finally getting eaten by it.

When it was all done, the immortal's body turned into dust that was swept away by the wind and scattered in the place she once called home.