Page 56 of Gladiator Moon

“He’s definitely on our side.”

Azul’s eyes widen. “Then we have no greater ally.”

“Maybe not, but Salt Creek is a close second.”

“You believe she will come?”

“I know she will. Her brothers and sisters are here, fighting. She will want to be with them.”

With that, Azul and Pickles drift away in their shimmering bubble, safe for now. The bubble comes to rest in the shadow of a massive stone pillar in the far corner of the throne room. They should be safe there, hidden mostly in shadows.

Next, I move as fast and as fierce as I can, the Devil Killer flashing over and over, side to side, up and down, with all the speed and strength I can muster. The demons that taste the sword simply disappear. There is neither screams nor blood, not even collapsing bodies. Only ribbons of black smoke twisting upward as though the creatures had never been.

I have known what the sword could do. Knowing it and witnessing it firsthand, however, are two very different things. Nothing, but nothing, can survive this thing. Where the demons go, I have no idea. Likely back to the Origin. But is the Origin of my universe the same as the Origin of this one? Are there multiple Origins? Or just one overseeing all of creation? Yet another question I don’t have an answer to.

Anyway, another demon lunges. I slash upward, and it vanishes as thoroughly as the others. White-gold light shimmers along the Devil Killer’s black edge. The surrounding demons recoil from it instinctively, though their hesitation lasts only a few seconds before they foolishly charge again.

One of them swings a massive, double-bladed battle axe toward my head. I duck beneath the near-lethal blow, step inside its reach, and drive my shoulder hard into its massive chest. I might as well have shoulder-checked a brick wall. The demon doesn’t move an inch. It merely snarls down at me.

I smile back up. Then sweep the Devil Killer through its midsection. The demon vanishes in a burst of black smoke. Its battle axe drops to the stone floor, where it is quickly scooped up by a hulking, weaponless guard.

Waste not, want not.

Chapter Twenty-four

I watch the guard turn and whip it at another charging demon. The weapon buries itself deep into the entity’s chest. It staggers but refuses to fall. Apparently ordinary steel does little against these things. I know that. That’s where the Devil Killer comes into play, necessary to banish the creatures forever, likely the only weapons ever forged that could do such a thing.

Something small suddenly shoots up between the demon’s legs. The tiny figure bounds up the demon’s back with impossible speed.

Salt Creek.

She flies up, faces the demon, then plunges both of her short swords into the beast’s eyes. Ouch! The creature screams, clawing wildly at its face as I come up behind it and put it out of its misery with a mighty swipe of the black sword. It immediately dissolves into a whorl of black smoke.

Salt Creek lands lightly on my shoulder, balancing there with ease.

“Some sword,” she says, whistling. “Magical?”

“Angel magic.”

“Wow-weeee! It’s big. Too big for me.”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Heavy?”

I shrug. “Not for me, but yeah, I think so for most people.”

“You are strong.”

“I am.”

She giggles, then springs from my shoulder as an idiotic demon rushes at me. It swings an enormous wooden club with spikes. Salt Creek’s flashing blades quickly sever the demon’s hands from its wrists. Hand and club fall. I step in and finish the job with a forward thrust through its skull. No blood, just... poof, and it is gone.

Next, I watch her disappear into the melee, darting between legs, racing up backs, and springing from horn to horn. She is impossibly fast. Every few seconds, another demon howls as one of her tiny blades finds an eye, an ear, or some other vulnerable spot. Sadly, the mortal fighters are no match for these near-indestructible demons. The mortals can wound the demons, maybe even slow them down, but only the Devil Killer is capable of finishing the job.

I have to end this for all the vulnerable fighters here. Except, there is only one of me and hundreds of demons. Hmm.

A gladiator with great, curling ram horns crushes a staggering demon beneath an enormous hammer, but the demon does not die, though it probably wishes it could. So I fly over and sweep my sword through its already broken neck, obliterating it.