Chapter 207: Villages and towns destroyed

Hesthara never stood a chance.

The legion hit the village at dawn, when most residents were still waking.

No warning, no demands for surrender.

Just immediate, overwhelming violence.

Elizabeth’s origin energy techniques tore through buildings, collapsing structures and burying families beneath rubble. Katerina’s combat magic cut down anyone who tried to resist—farmers with pitchforks, craftsmen with hammers, even the village militia who’d never faced real combat.

Lady Maude coordinated the assault with cold efficiency, directing forces to surround the village, cut off escape routes, and ensure no one could flee to warn neighboring settlements.

The initial plan of taking over the imperial court had been abandoned as the pride ordered the sisters to directly attack the villages and invade the imperial land.

They were slowly taking over the villages and towns, killing anyone who stood against them and the ones who had surrendered.

The demons… the demons did what demons always did when given free rein among helpless civilians.

They killed.

They tortured.

They laughed while doing both.

Within an hour, Hesthara was burning. Bodies littered the streets—men, women, children, and the elderly. No one had been spared. The legion moved through systematically, ensuring complete destruction.

A small coven had been stationed near Hesthara—five witches assigned to provide protection against demon raids. They’d responded to the attack immediately, rushing toward the screams and the smoke.

And they’d died fighting against their former sisters.

The group leader, a woman named Sylara, perhaps fifty years old with decades of combat experience, had faced Elizabeth directly. For a few moments, she’d actually held her own, her defensive techniques blocking the witch sister’s initial assaults.

But Elizabeth was a Battle Witch, trained specifically for killing. And she’d abandoned any restraint her Coven oaths had imposed.

Origin energy formed into a lance that pierced Sylara’s shields and her chest simultaneously. The older witch fell, blood pooling beneath her, and Elizabeth simply stepped over the body to continue coordinating the assault.

The other four coven witches lasted even less time. Katerina killed two personally, her combat power overwhelming them before they could properly coordinate defenses. Demons tore apart the remaining two, and their screams echoed across the burning village.

By midday, Hesthara was gone. Completely, utterly destroyed. Buildings reduced to ash and rubble, the population slaughtered to the last person, and even the livestock killed.

A message written in blood and fire: the legion was real, the betrayal was complete, and nowhere was safe.

*

The village of Miklaghil, eight miles south of Hesthara, received warning just before noon.

A rider came, injured, his horse nearly dead from being pushed too hard. He’d been on the road when Hesthara was attacked, had hidden and watched the massacre, then rode with desperate speed to warn the next settlement.

Miklaghil’s elder, a woman named Constance who’d led the community for twenty years, didn’t waste time questioning or doubting.

She immediately ordered evacuation.

“Everyone moves south, now! Take only what you can carry! Children and elderly get priority on carts! Anyone who can fight, form a rearguard! We have maybe hours before they reach us!”

The village erupted into organized chaos.

Three hundred people were scrambling to gather essential supplies, families were being torn between taking precious possessions or moving faster, and children were crying in confusion while parents tried to maintain calm.

A witch named Thessa had been assigned to Miklaghil, young, barely twenty-five, with only a few years of field experience. She was supposed to have four companions, but budget cuts and reassignments meant she was alone.

She took command of the evacuation with admirable composure despite the terror she surely felt.

“Stay together! No one separates from the main group! I’ll maintain protective wards as we move, but they’re only effective if you’re all within range!”

The evacuation began within an hour of the warning. Three hundred terrified civilians were streaming south along the forest road, carrying children and possessions and driving carts loaded with the elderly who couldn’t walk fast enough.

Thessa moved among them, her origin energy creating a mobile barrier that would at least provide warning if demons approached. It wouldn’t stop a serious assault, but it might buy seconds, and seconds could mean the difference between escape and slaughter.

They made it perhaps four miles before the forest around them went silent.

No birds, no insects, no wind.

Just oppressive, threatening quiet that made every civilian freeze in instinctive fear.

Thessa felt it through her origin energy: presences approaching from multiple directions. Moving deliberately, taking their time, herding the refugees rather than immediately attacking.

Demons.

“Into defensive formation!” she shouted, trying to project confidence she didn’t feel.

“Everyone center! Those who can fight, outer ring!”

Perhaps twenty people had weapons: farmers with scythes and axes, a few hunters with bows, and one retired soldier who still kept his old sword. Against demons, they were effectively unarmed, but they moved to the perimeter anyway, placing themselves between the threats and their families.

The demons emerged from the forest slowly, deliberately creating maximum fear.

There were perhaps thirty of them, a small force by legion standards, but more than enough to massacre three hundred civilians. Black Orcs formed the core, their dark grey skin and intelligent eyes marking them as the dangerous ones. Lesser demons filled out the pack, gibbering and drooling and radiating hunger.

They formed a loose circle around the refugees, not attacking yet.

Just watching.

Savoring the fear.

One of the Black Orcs, larger than the others, probably the leader, stepped forward.

When it spoke, its voice was surprisingly articulate despite the tusks and inhuman mouth structure.

“Well, well. A bunch of runaways. How thoughtful of you to gather in one convenient location.”

Laughter rippled through the demon ranks, harsh, grating sounds that made children whimper and adults flinch.

Thessa stepped forward, placing herself between the demon leader and the refugees. Her hands were already glowing with gathered origin energy, though she knew it wouldn’t be enough.

“These people are under Coven protection,” she said, her voice steady despite the fear coursing through her.

“Leave now, and I won’t pursue. Continue, and you’ll face consequences.”

More laughter.

The Black Orc leader’s eyes gleamed with amusement.

“Consequences? From one little witch and some farmers?

Oh, we’re terrified.”

It gestured to its companions.

“Tell me, brothers, what should we do with them? The old ones won’t provide much sport. But the children…”

It licked its lips with a tongue that was too long and too black.

“Children are always tender. Practically melt in your mouth.”

Horror rippled through the refugees. Parents clutched their children tighter, trying to shield them from words they were too young to fully understand but old enough to fear.

“And the women,” another demon added, its voice a wet gurgle.

“So many women. We can have such fun before we eat them. Make them scream in different ways.”

“It’s been a while since we have had any. The leaders are so bent on killing them, wasting such soft cock meat.”

“Please,” someone in the crowd begged, a mother holding an infant.

“Please, we have nothing you want. Just let us go.”

“But you have everything we want,” the leader said, spreading its arms wide.

“Entertainment. Food. Pleasure. You’re a buffet of delights, served up with nowhere to run.”

The demons spread around them, making the people wail for help. Children were horrified, and the woman looked terrified of what they would become for these demons.

They could tell by their gaze upon them the horrors waiting for them. They hoped and prayed, looking at the only woman who stood against the horde.

Thessa’s origin energy flared brighter. She was preparing to attack, to do whatever damage she could before they killed her. Maybe her sacrifice would buy the refugees a few seconds to scatter, to run into the forest where some might escape in the chaos. It wasn’t much. But it was all she had. The Black Orc saw her gathering power and laughed again.

“Oh, the little witch wants to fight! How adorable.”

The Black Orc lunged forward and seized Thessa by the throat, one massive hand closing around her like a vice. With a snarl, it lifted her clean off the ground, her feet kicking uselessly in the air. Her spine arched as pain tore through her ribs; she felt something crack, sharp and final, and a strangled gasp ripped from her lungs.

The gathered refugees screamed.

The Orc laughed and tightened its grip, muscles bulging beneath blackened armor. Its other hand dragged roughly at her cloak, ripping the fabric apart, tearing through leather straps and enchanted seams as if they were nothing. Her arcane focus clattered to the snow below, shattered.

“Look at her,” the Orc sneered, raising her higher so all could see.

“This is your protector? This trembling thing? I’ll break her slow, and you’ll watch every—”

It stopped mid-sentence.

All the demons stopped, their mocking expressions shifting to confusion, then to something that might have been fear.

They all looked towards the sky and stared at a certain point.

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