Page 31 of Zepharali: Lord of the East Winds (Lords of the Wind Book 3)
Zepharali
Zepharali tucked Lazaar behind him, much to his prince’s irritation and embarrassment, but his first instinct was to protect him.
The Legion of Madness was in full black armor—prepared for battle—with swords and axes drawn, ready to do its lord’s bidding at a whisper of his command.
A fight would be inevitable.
“How dare you bring your demonic sick legion to our lands?” Dorema stood in front of her own fearless legion.
Aoide stood beside her wife, her infantry filing into the room in tight formation.
“If you’ve come for a battle, then a battle you shall receive.”
In perfect sync, the squad stomped their solar-infused staffs on the marble floor and snapped into a combat stance.
Even in their formal wear, they were always prepared for an unexpected attack.
“I see you still have women—your own daughters—do your fighting for you, Lord Zepharali,” Mercurius growled, foam forming around his too-wide mouth like a rabid beast. “You disgrace the titan title.”
Zepharali bristled but didn’t take the bait.
Many insulted him about his legions of females because they were unbeatable and the most feared. They were natural-born fighters, his direct descendants from a long lineage of powerful titans.
They were never born meek maidens, nor destined to be subservient wives, nor nuns.
“I have not come for a fight.” Mercurius’ eyes glowed, his skin a sickly rust-brown. “I’ve only come to procure the tribrid and return him to the dark world where he belongs. He is an offense to the gods and unworthy of his powers. No one should possess such abilities.”
Zepharali stopped listening after return him to the dark world, turned to Elephaa, and commanded in a definitive tone, “Take Lazaar to his quarters. Shelter and protect him with full force.”
Elephaa and her command whisked Lazaar away so fast he wasn’t able to finish his rebuttal before the doors slammed closed behind him.
The Wardens of the Wall—made up of his younger, more petite daughters—were already cranking open the roof to give Zepharali unlimited access to his element.
Mercurius narrowed his beady eyes and pointed toward the door Lazaar had been dragged through. “Detain him.”
Zepharali opened his arms in a wide arc and summoned his wind.
The gusts created a deafening howl as it stormed in so forcefully the wind knocked the first wave of the demonic army to the floor, shattering their spines.
Dorema’s battalion formed a protective barrier around their trapped guests while she and her wife fought the dozens of remaining dark forces with just ten of her best fighters.
If Zepharali wasn’t so damn outraged, he’d be smiling with pride at the way his daughters took them down four and five at a time.
Dorema and Aoide fought back-to-back, doing a well-practiced battle dance that left their opponents confused and helpless.
The clash of steel on steel reverberated through the hall, each blow like a thunderclap that shook the stone walls.
His daughters weren’t killing the soldiers who were only following the orders of their crazed lord, but they wounded them enough to eliminate them from the fight.
The evil opponents attempted to box his daughters in from all sides, but Dorema’s sword glowed with its solar energy, making the rank flesh of the bodies she struck release a nauseating funk.
Mercurius radiated a smoky gray aura with outrage over his last few soldiers falling to their knees. His entire army of one hundred had been defeated by only ten of Zepharali’s daughters.
The infantry gathered the defeated men into a tight circle.
Dorema returned to Zepharali’s side, her long blonde waves still immaculate as if the fight had been too easy to even wrinkle her gown.
His daughter, Gennesis, chief of the Wardens of the Wall, brought her unit forward, each pointing the lethal end of their spears at the men’s backs.
Ignoring the groans and wails of agony from their injuries, she stopped at the one who’d led the battalion.
“On your bellies like the serpents you are!” she commanded in a stern voice.
The men lowered themselves to the ground and pressed their torsos to the floor, which was slick with putrid green blood.
They wearily watched the circling titanesses, anticipating slaughter.
“Eyes to the Underworld, lest I send you there!” she forced.
Zepharali supposed Mercurius thought he’d be successful in his mission if he came during a celebration, assuming his guard would be down. But he’d made a grave mistake. His daughters were always prepared for a threat.
Mercurius pulled an unknown vial from his cloak. Zepharali shot his arm forward, made his furious wind wrap around the dark lord’s throat with the strength of an iron chain, and hefted him off his feet.
His red eyes bulged from the lack of oxygen, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as he clutched at the invisible vice.
Zepharali dragged Mercurius so close he could smell his putrid stench.
He balled his hand in a tighter fist until his enemy’s bones began to crack.
Zepharali was so angry he barely refrained from snapping Mercurius’ neck.
The violent wind still rushing in gave him the strength of a thousand storms. His voice was amplified by his heat so that when he spoke, it singed the skin on Mercurius’ cheeks.
“The only reason I do not bury you beneath my lands is because I want you to return my message to the dark worlds.”
Mercurius thrashed and writhed in a desperate need to breathe.
“The tribrid is my heart’s prophesied love. He is under the full protection of Tir Scáthanna. And any attack on him will be considered a declaration of war. The next time…if there is a next time, there will be no mercy…and no survivors.”
Zepharali squeezed again until Mercurius went limp and his eyelids fluttered.
His whispers were hotter than the breath of a dragon. “Come for my heart again, and I will take great pleasure in killing you slowly. And I’ll hang your scorched body from the gates of your own land as a warning to others.”
Mercurius was seconds from death before Zepharali opened his fist to release him.
He didn’t even wait for the dark lord to fall to a battered heap on the floor before he turned his back and allowed his legion to escort the trash to the border.