A joyous day for most.

The king of Vynareth was in a tizzy, ordering his royal guard to organize an attack on the Dragon King. While some held deep loyalty to the throne, even then they were unwilling to throw their lives away in such a manner.

They knelt before the throne and waited, and while they waited, the furious king’s fear began overwhelming him, as he made a run for one of the many escapes he had placed around his throne room. Or attempted to, as the royal guard stopped him, spears at the ready, pointed at the monarch’s throat. “Under the decree of the Dragon King,
for the safety and betterment of this kingdom, you must remain here.”

The guard captain stood before his charge, his mind resolute, but the rotten king had one final safeguard, one which he had promised his father on his deathbed to never use.

But it was that or the **** of the entire line. And so, King Kaelan Vynareth III took the putrid crown from his head, and snapped it over his knee, leaving the guards to watch in consternation as a rumbling appeared in the room.

And not long after, an abyssal hole, the same putrid green of the crown, opened up beneath five of the royal guards though the guard captain barely avoided falling.

The rotten king was quick to celebrate his concerning situation, as a Klurichir, an immensely nightmarish group among the Tanar'ri from the Abyss, rose from the putrid gateway.

The immense form gazed into the eyes of the king, and spoke foreboding words, “For your soul or for a fitting replacement, King Kaelan Vynareth III, I shall grant your pitiful self my aid. Now, what say you?”

The cowardly king was quick to offer up anything else, “My payment for your aid, mighty one, are the souls of my entire kingdom, and if you can truly help me, it won’t stop there. That’s nearly three million people under my control, and countless more if you agree.” Kaelan was groveling before the Klurichir.

Said entity was finding immense joy in this human suffering, “Ok, you pathetic creature, I agree. Who are my opponents? These mere knights? I can do that easily.” And without a second’s thought, the mighty figure had swung a greataxe through two of the knights, cleaving them both at the waist. And promptly grabbing another and engulfing him in his vorpal mouth, consuming the man in his entirety, to then swing through the remaining knights in quick succession, utterly ending their lives. “Who else do you have for me, pitiful king?”

Kaelan was quick to respond, a tenuous confidence creeping its way onto his grim face, “A man named Damon Steel and maybe his troops, but they'll probably fall after he dies.” He spoke with hesitant joy, leaving out his Dragon King status.

“That’s fine, where is he?” But before Kaelan could respond, they both heard a heavy voice resound through the room.

“I’m right here, how do y'all want to do this?” Damon spoke quite arrogantly as he walked through an immense portal, nearly crouching in the grand chamber, easily dwarfing the Klurichir in size, the monster took a look at him and felt a primal fear.

But Klurichir were never known to back down from fear, so he spoke, “Way more than the souls of this kingdom, for this fight, over ten million souls will be needed.” He demanded, before rushing at the titanic figure, even to him.

As the king was cowering in a corner, Damon formed an immense hammer from the endless blood, and slammed it upon the it’s body

…

Egradon the Infernal, one of the Archfiend generals of the Stygian Prince, the supreme lord of the Ninth layer, was undefeated. His might was renowned throughout every layer of the Abyss. He had slain countless Dragons, Balors, Myrmyxicuses, and innumerable nightmarish creatures, even having once slain a rogue Seraphim he’d encountered.

But nothing he’d experienced before had hit him as this hammer did. Egradon the Unbroken, had nearly every bone within his body smashed to dust, as he was crushed against the comparatively brittle ground.

The mighty Klurichir was staggering, barely on its feet. While in a nearly catatonic state, he felt the blood of the hammer wrap around his form, asphyxiating the countless vorpal mouths his bloodline were so proud of. It then began to wrap tighter and tighter, nearly wrenching the insides of the monster into a mush.

Egradon the Inviolable, his numerous namesakes he’d worked his entire life to gain, were being proven wrong in an instant.

Damon was standing over this defeated demon, his blood plate armor retreating from his right arm, and he reared it back.