The Last Moments Of A Regretful Father:
New
drexal15
Proud GM
On A Battlefield Oh So Long Ago:
===
His burnt skin throbbed agonizingly in the dusk sunlight, what patches of fur were left on his body smoking acridly, smelling finally of divine thunder. But those were the very least of his injuries, their pain paled in comparison to the light wreathed lance that had been thrust straight through his stomach.
A lesser mon might've fainted from the pain. However, he was not a lesser mon. In fact, this was exactly where he'd needed to be.
Daemon the Demon Lord of Wrath leered in triumph, and at the same time plunged his right hand into the small of Ophanimon's back. The arrogant Great Angel of a woman screamed in agony, her moment of triumph giving way to pained shock as Daemon's claws plunged into her spine.
Divine Light ripped through the Demon Lord's body, annihilating half of his lower torso and leaving his right leg dangling uselessly. In return his dark flames of Wrath surged through the Seraph's spinal column, and up into her core.
Both were near crippling injuries, however she had the worst of it by far. In the split second before their clash Daemon had avoided taking a lethal injury. And in that moment of supposed triumph, he'd delivered a lethal counterstroke. Gritting his teeth and grinning madly through the pain, Daemon gleefully watched the paralyzed womon continue past, momentum carrying Ophanimon's stiffened form past, lance and all.
As his right arm disengaged, Daemon reflexively tried to rend through her neck with his much longer left arm. However the attempt merely resulted in a burst of phantom pain from where his limb had used to be. Only a throbbing stump remained, the rest sacrificed to ensure Cherubimon's demise.
Oh how dearly he would cherish the memory of Cherubimon's baffled face. And how it had twisted into panic and agony as his brain turned to ash.
It was a shame that he didn't have quite enough time to finish the task, however the injury he'd dealt to Ophanimon was surely a mortal one. And that made two of the Heavenly appointed trio deleted by his hands.
"Hyuk, hyuk, hyuk, hyuk!" The Demon Lord cackled laboriously, his laugh wracked with pain, each exhale releasing a small cloud of data. He'd done it! He'd really slain two of The Great Angels on his own! It had been a masterfully executed ambush, as expected of himself… and he supposed Patches' tactical advice had helped a bit.
Daemon crushed a handful of healing disks, before sighing in relief as the worst of his burns were soothed. The items did little for his missing limbs, but the pain had been dulled enough to help him think clearly. Glancing towards Ophanimon's falling body, the Demon Lord debated trying to load her in a bid to heal his injuries, but quickly dismissed the idea. Her holy data might well harm him if he tried. More importantly he was finally free to survey the battlefield and… that wasn't an appealing sight.
Whatever trick that blasted Seraphimon had pulled, left his horde bereft of its strongest members. And The Blessed Host was nearly done putting his army to route. Barrages of Holy Light annihilated more of his fleeing minions with every moment. Even the mighty Raidenmon warmachine had been split open, with General Mercuremon either slain or fled. What was supposed to be the Gloaming's final blow for victory had been rendered into more of a stalemate.
Daemon frowned in annoyance at the sight, it had taken decades of careful campaigning, recruitment and planning to amass that army. With their leaders dead or occupied, his horde should be smashing the demoralized Host to bytes right now. He'd made promises to the City States, promises that would now be difficult to keep.
But after a moment's consideration Daemon's grin returned and he let out a barking "Hyuk" of laughter.
"Not that losing my army matters!" The Demon Lord leered down at Ophanimon's descending body, and readied himself to blast her core clean from the server. "With you Great Angels gone, nothing on this backwater server can stand up to me! Hyuk! Hyuk! Hyuk! Hyuk! Hyuk!" A ball of wrathfful flame burst to life over his right palm.
With this battle concluded, the accord he'd made with Dagomon would be rendered unnecessary, and Noir-
The flame over his hand flickered, disrupted by a surge of… shame. What wracked his core was an unfamiliar type of pain, worse than guilt. He could still see the cute little Sistermon's happy face. A warm smile, so trusting. So naive in her faith.
Daemon's leer twisted into something unfamiliar as he pictured that, messy sketch. A low quality, amateurish drawing of his cloaked self holding hands with a little figure. The stupid little thing didn't know its entire existence amounted to nothing more than a disposable key.
His smile flipped into a grimace, the pain returning and somehow feeling worse than his missing arm. The flame in his hand flickered, then died out as Daemon's vision wavered.
"I must be… shaken from battle damage." The Demon Lord murmured before shaking his head. Maybe he'd have it compose a victory song of his great triumph against The Blessed Host. She-It did so enjoy singing for him.
Daemon flapped his tattered wings, and streaked towards the dying womon. The pathetic zealot had overcome her paralysis and was desperately trying to stabilize her core. He best give her some *Help*!
"Hyuk-"
!
"-Wash your neck villain!" Daemon whirled around, power gathering on his hand to parry the slash aimed at his throat. Again the Demon Lord's left stump twinged with phantom pain, attempting a counterattack that would never manifest. And what a shame that was, if he'd still had his other arm, the sneaky little angel would've already been reduced to ash.
"The little protege!" He leered gleefully, matching SlashAngemon's grin. "Come to die alongside your-" Daemon's bright blue eyes were assaulted by a flash of gold, his taunt transforming into a scream as the next swing cleaved through his barrier, and lopped his remaining arm off at the shoulder. "Aaargh, that-that power!" The Demon Lord's core shuddered with a horrifying realization, his reviled enemy, that blasted Seraphimon had passed on his crest! He'd! He'd cheated!
Daemon flapped his wings, fire trailing in his wake as he launched himself back and away from certain deletion. All thoughts of victory replaced by the need to get away, to survive.
So long as he could get away, he could recover, and then-
-"Our world shant suffer your vileness any longer cretin!" Another pulse of gold flashed at the corner of his vision, and Daemon roared in pain as his wings were cleaved from his back. What's left of his depleted spirit kept him moving away, but it wasn't nearly fast enough to mount an escape. "Know my promise to Seraphimon!" SlashAngemon's blade flashed down as Daemon turned, attempting to parry the blow aside with a kick- "Know that this server will never suffer the yoke of your kind again!" -only to have his limb be lopped off for the effort in a shower of data.
"Aaaargh, stop it you wretch!" Accursed Lord of the Host no! He'd won! The three Great Angels had been defeated! He couldn't be killed here! Not by an upjumped lackey!
"Because from now on!" SlashAngemon blurred in front of him, a single bright green eye staring through the helmet directly at him. "I will be here!" The Blade Angel pulsed gold a final time, his swordarm streaking towards Daemon's neck.
"Shit."
Daemon's head flew from his shoulders, his pain fading away to nothingness, along with his broken body. It was over.
Strange. The dying Demon Lord knew he should be filled with rage, with regret. He should be absolutely furious over being defeated in the moment of his triumph.
Instead… all he could think of now in his last moments… was that precious little face.
Despite his body fading into the ether down below… Daemon swore he could feel a pair of little arms around his waist… Ah. If only he could see that happy little face of hers… one last time.
=AN: Checked over by TempestK. Thank you. I've had this one planned out for a while too, but I never knew when to post it. Now that I'm not worrying about getting the quest done, perhaps ironically I felt better about writing this.
===
His burnt skin throbbed agonizingly in the dusk sunlight, what patches of fur were left on his body smoking acridly, smelling finally of divine thunder. But those were the very least of his injuries, their pain paled in comparison to the light wreathed lance that had been thrust straight through his stomach.
A lesser mon might've fainted from the pain. However, he was not a lesser mon. In fact, this was exactly where he'd needed to be.
Daemon the Demon Lord of Wrath leered in triumph, and at the same time plunged his right hand into the small of Ophanimon's back. The arrogant Great Angel of a woman screamed in agony, her moment of triumph giving way to pained shock as Daemon's claws plunged into her spine.
Divine Light ripped through the Demon Lord's body, annihilating half of his lower torso and leaving his right leg dangling uselessly. In return his dark flames of Wrath surged through the Seraph's spinal column, and up into her core.
Both were near crippling injuries, however she had the worst of it by far. In the split second before their clash Daemon had avoided taking a lethal injury. And in that moment of supposed triumph, he'd delivered a lethal counterstroke. Gritting his teeth and grinning madly through the pain, Daemon gleefully watched the paralyzed womon continue past, momentum carrying Ophanimon's stiffened form past, lance and all.
As his right arm disengaged, Daemon reflexively tried to rend through her neck with his much longer left arm. However the attempt merely resulted in a burst of phantom pain from where his limb had used to be. Only a throbbing stump remained, the rest sacrificed to ensure Cherubimon's demise.
Oh how dearly he would cherish the memory of Cherubimon's baffled face. And how it had twisted into panic and agony as his brain turned to ash.
It was a shame that he didn't have quite enough time to finish the task, however the injury he'd dealt to Ophanimon was surely a mortal one. And that made two of the Heavenly appointed trio deleted by his hands.
"Hyuk, hyuk, hyuk, hyuk!" The Demon Lord cackled laboriously, his laugh wracked with pain, each exhale releasing a small cloud of data. He'd done it! He'd really slain two of The Great Angels on his own! It had been a masterfully executed ambush, as expected of himself… and he supposed Patches' tactical advice had helped a bit.
Daemon crushed a handful of healing disks, before sighing in relief as the worst of his burns were soothed. The items did little for his missing limbs, but the pain had been dulled enough to help him think clearly. Glancing towards Ophanimon's falling body, the Demon Lord debated trying to load her in a bid to heal his injuries, but quickly dismissed the idea. Her holy data might well harm him if he tried. More importantly he was finally free to survey the battlefield and… that wasn't an appealing sight.
Whatever trick that blasted Seraphimon had pulled, left his horde bereft of its strongest members. And The Blessed Host was nearly done putting his army to route. Barrages of Holy Light annihilated more of his fleeing minions with every moment. Even the mighty Raidenmon warmachine had been split open, with General Mercuremon either slain or fled. What was supposed to be the Gloaming's final blow for victory had been rendered into more of a stalemate.
Daemon frowned in annoyance at the sight, it had taken decades of careful campaigning, recruitment and planning to amass that army. With their leaders dead or occupied, his horde should be smashing the demoralized Host to bytes right now. He'd made promises to the City States, promises that would now be difficult to keep.
But after a moment's consideration Daemon's grin returned and he let out a barking "Hyuk" of laughter.
"Not that losing my army matters!" The Demon Lord leered down at Ophanimon's descending body, and readied himself to blast her core clean from the server. "With you Great Angels gone, nothing on this backwater server can stand up to me! Hyuk! Hyuk! Hyuk! Hyuk! Hyuk!" A ball of wrathfful flame burst to life over his right palm.
With this battle concluded, the accord he'd made with Dagomon would be rendered unnecessary, and Noir-
The flame over his hand flickered, disrupted by a surge of… shame. What wracked his core was an unfamiliar type of pain, worse than guilt. He could still see the cute little Sistermon's happy face. A warm smile, so trusting. So naive in her faith.
Daemon's leer twisted into something unfamiliar as he pictured that, messy sketch. A low quality, amateurish drawing of his cloaked self holding hands with a little figure. The stupid little thing didn't know its entire existence amounted to nothing more than a disposable key.
His smile flipped into a grimace, the pain returning and somehow feeling worse than his missing arm. The flame in his hand flickered, then died out as Daemon's vision wavered.
"I must be… shaken from battle damage." The Demon Lord murmured before shaking his head. Maybe he'd have it compose a victory song of his great triumph against The Blessed Host. She-It did so enjoy singing for him.
Daemon flapped his tattered wings, and streaked towards the dying womon. The pathetic zealot had overcome her paralysis and was desperately trying to stabilize her core. He best give her some *Help*!
"Hyuk-"
!
"-Wash your neck villain!" Daemon whirled around, power gathering on his hand to parry the slash aimed at his throat. Again the Demon Lord's left stump twinged with phantom pain, attempting a counterattack that would never manifest. And what a shame that was, if he'd still had his other arm, the sneaky little angel would've already been reduced to ash.
"The little protege!" He leered gleefully, matching SlashAngemon's grin. "Come to die alongside your-" Daemon's bright blue eyes were assaulted by a flash of gold, his taunt transforming into a scream as the next swing cleaved through his barrier, and lopped his remaining arm off at the shoulder. "Aaargh, that-that power!" The Demon Lord's core shuddered with a horrifying realization, his reviled enemy, that blasted Seraphimon had passed on his crest! He'd! He'd cheated!
Daemon flapped his wings, fire trailing in his wake as he launched himself back and away from certain deletion. All thoughts of victory replaced by the need to get away, to survive.
So long as he could get away, he could recover, and then-
-"Our world shant suffer your vileness any longer cretin!" Another pulse of gold flashed at the corner of his vision, and Daemon roared in pain as his wings were cleaved from his back. What's left of his depleted spirit kept him moving away, but it wasn't nearly fast enough to mount an escape. "Know my promise to Seraphimon!" SlashAngemon's blade flashed down as Daemon turned, attempting to parry the blow aside with a kick- "Know that this server will never suffer the yoke of your kind again!" -only to have his limb be lopped off for the effort in a shower of data.
"Aaaargh, stop it you wretch!" Accursed Lord of the Host no! He'd won! The three Great Angels had been defeated! He couldn't be killed here! Not by an upjumped lackey!
"Because from now on!" SlashAngemon blurred in front of him, a single bright green eye staring through the helmet directly at him. "I will be here!" The Blade Angel pulsed gold a final time, his swordarm streaking towards Daemon's neck.
"Shit."
Daemon's head flew from his shoulders, his pain fading away to nothingness, along with his broken body. It was over.
Strange. The dying Demon Lord knew he should be filled with rage, with regret. He should be absolutely furious over being defeated in the moment of his triumph.
Instead… all he could think of now in his last moments… was that precious little face.
"Tha-that stage is for me? With something that big I can sing for the whole world!"
"Yes little one, Hyukhyuk!"
"Papa! Papa you're the best!"
Despite his body fading into the ether down below… Daemon swore he could feel a pair of little arms around his waist… Ah. If only he could see that happy little face of hers… one last time.
=AN: Checked over by TempestK. Thank you. I've had this one planned out for a while too, but I never knew when to post it. Now that I'm not worrying about getting the quest done, perhaps ironically I felt better about writing this.
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