Thalomus the Immolator

  Adventurer Level: N/A

  Daemon - Unknowable

  "Charge!" I shouted.

  The fiends under my command pounced upon the meager defenders of the village like starving animals. The peasant's defensive line broke immediately, and those that weren't promptly torn to shreds began to run. They couldn't get far, though, because I had held some forces in reserve and they had the village completely surrounded.

  It was a total victory, but I didn't let it get to my head. I knew what Naberius and my peers would say if I did. It was a mere village without seasoned combatants, executing a perfect operation was the expectation. Suffering no casualties and ensuring no survivors when ordered was the norm, not an accomplishment worth celebrating.

  My fellow commanders would also point out that it had taken multiple days to properly reconnoiter the area. Even if I argued that it had been at the insistence of Marquess Naberius, they would simply scoff and claim to have been able to do it faster. They would say that the reason that the Marquess had made me take it slow was because I was new to commanding, and undeserving of the role.

  "Bastards," I muttered under my breath.

  I took a deep breath through my nose and savored the sweet smell of blood and death on the air. Watching as the villagers were cut down soothed me a little. Even if I could not celebrate the victory, it was a job well done and I could allow myself a moment of pleasure for it. After said moment of pleasure, I turned to Balthrax, my second-in-command.

  "Maintain a tight perimeter and begin searching the houses," I ordered. "There are to be no survivors, and remind the fiends that any damage done must be repaired. Absolutely no fire."

  "Yes, sir," He grunted and ran off.

  As he left, I wondered about his allegiances. Balthrax hadn't exactly been famous for anything, and despite the fact that we both served under Hirgarus, I'd hardly even heard of him. But once it came time to choose my second-in-command, his name was on everyone's lips.

  If circumstances were different, I'd have chosen someone else. It was obvious that I was being steered toward choosing him, and normally it would have been foolish of me to allow it. But Balthrax was also uncomfortably close to me in strength. Either of these facts alone would have allowed me to freely ignore him and choose someone more sympathetic to my plight. When combined, these facts required me to keep a close eye on him. Friends must be kept close and enemies closer still, after all.

  My plan wasn't to simply wait and see, though. I was waiting for Balthrax to make mistake so that I could eliminate him with impunity. Unfortunately, he was frustratingly competent.

  I watched as he proved this true by snatching a torch from a daemon and extinguishing it, then punishing the daemon accordingly.

  "Damn," I growled.

  The daemons entered the ramshackle homes of the peasants and began to drag them outside. Women, children, and some elderly men were gathered into the center of the village. All of them were drow, which was hardly a surprise given that we were just north of the Night Kingdom's border.

  I rolled my eyes, annoyed that the peons weren't simply killing the peasants where they found them. Before I could approach to properly chastise them, though, some of the villagers attempted to run. Thankfully, our encirclement was able to lethally prevent their escape. Enraged by the close call, I turned on my foolish soldiers.

  "What's the point of gathering them together!?" I demanded.

  "Well... To have a bit of fun, sir," one of the daemons replied.

  He was close enough to receive immediate punishment in the form of my hand crushing his face into paste. He fell to the ground, desperately trying to scream through what was left of his face hole, and I finished his antics by stomping upon his skull. The rest of my forces watched in silence, realizing that they could be next.

  "Kill them all," I growled. "Now."

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  It was an order that would normally bring cheer throughout my ranks, but the daemons went to task in a solemn silence. The only sounds were the screaming of the villagers and the steady work of the weapons. I couldn't help but wonder about their silence.

  Did they think me overly harsh? Perhaps I didn't command the same respect as Hirgarus did? Or maybe they were simply unhappy that they didn't get to delight in the torment of the mortals.

  It wasn't as if I could do anything about that, though. The Marquess wanted to ensure that our presence would go unnoticed. As such, we could not leave a single villager to tell the tale and had to clean up after ourselves. Keeping toys allows the risk of escape, and that cannot be allowed under any circumstances.

  I glared at Balthrax. What had just happened was a mistake, but from a certain point of view it could be seen as my mistake. I had not been specific with my orders. He should have known better, though.

  Perhaps he did. It's possible that he had known full well what our orders were, and orchestrated this fuck-up as a way to undermine me. If I punish him, word will spread that I can't even control my own second-in-command, or worse, that I punish others for my own failings. The daemons under my command would hesitate to heed me, and my peers would mock me even more furiously than they already were.

  Fucking prick.

  "I want you to personally ensure that every villager is dead," I said to him. "Even one escape will result in the Marquess being quite displeased."

  "I'm sure that's an understatement, sir," he replied calmly.

  "Correct. If we fail our mission here, his wrath will be like none you've ever seen. And I'll ensure that some of it is directed at you, as well."

  Balthrax stiffened, as if the thought hadn't occurred to him. That single moment of doubt and fear brought a small smile to my face. Perhaps I wasn't as cornered as I had thought. Even a fool knows that if you plan on sinking the ship you're on, you should at least make sure you have a life-raft.

  "I'll open the rift," I continued. "Do not fail me."

  "I won't... Sir."

  I scoffed and made my way to the village elder's home. It was obvious which building it was. The village didn't have a very good carpenter, if the other homes were anything to judge by. But the elder's house was made of expertly carved stone bricks, and much larger than the other buildings.

  The reason for this is because we had created the structure during our last invasion. Dwarven slaves and daemon engineers had toiled for weeks to enshrine the rift in a proper barracks. The rift had long since closed, but it hadn't dispersed.

  I entered the building and looked around in disgust. Baskets, clothing, and meager wooden furniture was strewn about messily. Hardly the grandiose welcome mat that the other commanders would expect. I was tempted to order the building cleaned, but my contempt for my peers won out.

  Perhaps it would goad some of them into being insulted, and I could make them seem overly pretentious. It would certainly harm some egos, whilst boosting my own standing. After all, we're here on a mission, not a vacation. What use is luxury and pomp?

  With a grin, I gathered magic and began to pour it into the rift. The air began to crackle, and then a thin line of orange light began to appear. The moment it touched the floor, the rift burst open and spewed forth a wave of heat.

  I waited patiently for those waiting on the other side to realize that the rift had opened. They could have opened it, but Naberius had ordered me to do it myself. Likely to ensure that the rift didn't tip off the villagers to what was happening, giving them time to try to escape.

  The plan that the Marquess had developed was just as cunning and convoluted as one would expect from him. The first step involved sneaking a small force back onto the mortal plane. The next part was simple, take a village that contains a rift and eliminate all the villagers before they could warn anyone about us.

  The third part of the plan was to determine the status of the vampires in the Night Kingdom. We didn't know if they still ruled, nor if they were still allied to us. Personally, I had my doubts about their loyalty the moment I laid eyes on the master vampire, but Naberius had made it quite clear what he thought of my objections.

  Once we determined whether or not the vampires were useful, the plan got more complicated. We would either use the vampires or wrest the Night Kingdom from their grasp. The orcs, dwarves, and elves would be hesitant to aid them, and the wylder would outright refuse to. We would then use the Night Kingdom as a foothold to strike at the mortals, slowly and methodically.

  "Ah, so you didn't utterly fail," Beltemere said, stepping through the rift.

  "I didn't fail at all," I replied. "The village has fallen undamaged, and none have escaped."

  He sniffed patronizingly, as if he hadn't already detected the scent of living mortals.

  "But not all of them are dead quite yet. I seem to recall that being part of your orders."

  "Those that aren't dead will soon perish. My forces surround the village. They have nowhere to run and nowhere to hide."

  "But were you not to wai-"

  "That wasn't specifically outlined in my orders," I interrupted smugly. "It wouldn't be proper to keep you and the Marquess waiting on something as simple as slaughtering caged beasts, would it?"

  Beltemere stared at me from the corner of his eye and grunted. I'd won, for the moment. He turned to the rift and gestured toward it, and several of the daemons under his command stepped through.

  "We'll have to clean this place up," he said.

  "Indeed," I replied as I turned to leave. "Since I have to return to the slaughter, I'll leave the cleaning to you."

  "Wait, wha-"

  I'd already made my way out of the structure by the time he began to protest. I strolled back to the center of the village with a smirk on my face. The last mortal perished in anguish as I joined Balthrax. He nodded to me, indicating that the first part of our orders had been fulfilled.

  We had more tasks ahead of us, though.

  "Bury the bodies and clean up the blood," I ordered.