THIRD STAGE (4)

The disciple was dragged into a wider area, a few torches mounted here and there. Three of the demons locked him in place against the rocky wall, but the fourth one broke into an awkward run, waddling away with disproportionately short legs.

"Get the sharpest axe, aye?!" the single-horn demon shouted.

"Aye, aye," came a slightly irritated response. 

Marshall tried to kick them off over and over, but the demons only sniggered, holding him tighter. However, not even two minutes later, a low rumble roared through the cave.

For a second, Marshall thought Gi Gaia had come to help, shifting rocks around to scare the demons away. Yet, the approaching footsteps were much heavier than hers.

A tall figure emerged, a long black coat swaying around ash covered boots. Unless Gi Gaia had suddenly doubled in weight and grown half a meter taller, it was not her.

As Marshall looked up, he was met with black, reflection-less eyes staring from the sickly pale face. A broad, artificial joy tugged the corners of the man's lips as he regarded the disciple with a welcoming gesture.

"Would you look at that," the man leaned in, chuckling. "So this is who they call the next sovereign?"

As he as glanced at the demons holding Marshall, the grin dropped as if it was never there. "Did I tell you to kill him? Release him."

Every claw withdrew at lightning speed, dropping him to the ground with a heavy thud. The demons backed away, forming a neat line. After receiving a stern "Go," they disappeared into the night with hurried steps.

With a sinking feeling in his gut, the disciple pushed himself up against the wall. Never in his wildest imaginings had he expected to run into the man at the top of the demonic food chain like this.

"Straighten up, don't be shy," the Stygian Overlord encouraged, the smirk back on his face. 

Marshall swallowed hard, pulling his shoulders back. He might have been audacious and shameless, but he was just human. Being terrified in the face of the Stygian Overlord could hardly be considered cowardly.

The demonic man gazed at Marshall in an unsettling manner, expecting him to speak, but the disciple remained paralyzed, unable to look away from the pitiless voids of the man's eyes.

Despite the attempts to uphold an appearance of calm, Marshall's hands trembled slightly at his sides. Meanwhile, inside his head, he probed every ridge of his brain in search for ways to escape.

"Mmm, it seems you have unlocked your demonic energy," the demonic man tilted his head with a knowing grin.

The rem of the weighty coat swung around his feet as he took a step closer, and Marshall's forehead received a flick. "Too bad. Even with demonic energy at your command, you're nothing."

Marshall wasn't trying to be anything at the moment. He just wanted to survive. To get out of the caves and touch some grass. To feel the sunlight and breathe in the fresh air. There wasn't much he wanted, really.

The Overlord grabbed Marshall's chin, forcing him to look up. His twisted grin widened, exuding an eerie sense of glee as he saw the disciple holding back. "Just a small pea that has been thrown out of the garden. So young and green. All alone. How pitiful."

Marshall desperately reached into feelings of frustration, setting his anger on fire in attempts to burn the fear away. He clenched his fists, gradually regaining some control over himself. 

"Oho, you want to fight me?" the demonic man laughed heartily, releasing him and stepping back. "Sure. Show me what you've got."

The disciple's eye twitched as his mind ran through every curse word he knew. The Overlord misinterpreted his clenched fists! He wanted to shout in denial and beg for mercy, but something told him it would've been useless. In addition, it would have looked pathetic. 

"I'll stand still. Do your worst," the demonic man smiled, his eyes squinting.

Marshall stumbled forward, unsure. Then he came up with a plan. He would punch the Stygian Overlord, then run away while he is distracted. 

With a grunt, he channeled as much demonic energy as he could. Then he ran to the demonic man and launched a punch. It threw the Overlord back a few steps. His empty eyes narrowed into thin slits, making it seem as if the whites of his eyes had turned black as well.

The disciple didn't wait to see what would happen next. He whipped around, making a run for it. But a hand shot out with lightning speed. In a split second, his throat was in the Overlord's clutches. He hadn't even managed to think of which direction to run.

"Why are you running?" the demonic man's jovial tone was distorted by malice. "If you throw a punch, you should be ready to fight until only one of us is left standing!"

With a wicked sneer, the veiny hand tightened his grip even further, relishing in the disciple's agony. "Is this all you got? For a sovereign to do down so easily... What a shame! The prophecy has failed you!"

Summoning demonic energy once more, Marshall channeled it into both hands and slammed them into the Stygian Overlord's chest. The demonic man's feet skidded across the cave floor, leaving a trail of dust as he was blown away.

Gasping for air, the disciple bumped into the wall, clutching his bruised throat. Meanwhile, the other smirked in entertainment, leisurely trailing back to continue.

"You're no better than a lowly demon," the Overlord taunted. "I expected so much more from you." He raised his hand, a dark aura pulsating around his fingers. "Let me show you how it's done."

Marshall's eyes widened in horror as he realized what was about to happen. Before he could react, the heavy hand landed on his shoulder. A torrent of dark energy was unleashed over him, plunging the disciple into agonizing pain.

Wave after wave of dark energy surged over him as he was being forced to the ground. Once his knees hit the rocks, Marshall gathered every bit of effort to stand back up. If he stayed down, it meant death.

But each time he got up, the demonic man would send him crashing into a nearby rock. By the fifth time, his back hit the edge of the rock at a bad angle. All air was knocked out of his lungs, and each breath he fought to draw in burned like inhaling campfire fumes.

Yet the Stygian Overlord kept grinning. "Don't give up just yet. Stand back up."

As the disciple scrambled up, his shoulder was grabbed again. Another unbearable surge of demonic energy ran through his body. This time, the pressure was so intense that it felt like his soul left his body.

It was as if he was watching the scene from the side—Marshall could see his eyes rolling back and his body slumping. What followed next, was deafening silence and endless darkness.