Demonic Devourer's Development

"Bring it on! I am bound to kill at least something today!" the girl snarled, swinging at me with her dagger.

I dodged mid air and landed a few steps away. Since I couldn't fly upside down, I had to in order to fight her, or I'd just be giving this girl free shots at my legs.

I felt the battle trance descending on me again as I measured my opponent. She looked young—younger than Rosha, though younger than Risha. Thick winter clothes hid a lot of her figure, but there certainly were curves under all that fur and protective leather. Despite them, the girl's movement didn't seem constrained. They were jerky, but quick, as she turned towards me and pointed with her dagger at my chest.

She bared her teeth, and I bared mine right back. With my left hand, I pulled out a dagger and made a couple of trial swings in the air. Then, as if by a signal, both of us rushed towards each other. Even with the battle trance clearing my head, the frustrated anger still bubbled in me.

I saw it reflected tenfold in the girl's eyes.

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Our daggers clashed with a loud clang of metal against metal. My hand shook as I held against the girl's rage fuelled strength, but my other hand didn't hesitate to stab a stinger at her neck.

She batted it away with her arm, leaving my torso open, but had to stop pushing so hard with her dagger. The blades slid against each other with a sharp wail and my dagger went towards her eye. It would've been lethal if it hit, or at least debilitating—but the girl crouched, and the dagger only scratched her forehead.

Then, in the same movement, she headbutted me into the chest with enough force to knock a breath out of my lungs.

With my balance unsteady from my strike, I fell down on my back and my wings, but before she could stab her dagger into my stomach, I kicked her away from me and jumped on my feet.

I found myself grinning. The icy wind and cold snow, the joy of fighting a challenging opponent, the joy of fighting itself, made me forget about my miss with the griffin. I was looking for their nest, anyway. Wounded, it won't go far from there.

And now I remembered again that this was not just any opponent, but a stunningly beautiful in her rage girl. Intent on killing me, just as I was going to kill her, but, hey. It would be fun while it lasted, and to make it last longer, I waited for her to get up.

"If you taste as well as you fight, this will make my day," I told her and beckoned with my stinger hand. "Come on, what else you got?"

"You're so dead!" she growled at me and charged.

Well, she wasn't a talker, but that was alright. I liked women not because they talked.

This time, I fought smarter. Instead of meeting her strike head on, I deflected it and launched a counterattack. My stab with a stinger was a feint. When the girl began to block that, I kicked her in the stomach, sending her rolling in the snow again with five shallow gauges in her armour.

I curled my toes, hiding my claws back, and watched the girl spring back up and wipe the blood that was flowing into her eye from the cut on her forehead. "Even though I can actually use the claws on my feet without freezing them off, they are still almost useless. Just too short. Only good for climbing."

The girl's response was a wordless, furious scream and another charge. She was good. Fast and strong. But she wasn't thinking straight in her rage, and I was just as good and fast, though not as strong. I could see all her strikes coming a mile ahead.

Her style of combat would work on mindless beasts, but on an intelligent opponent like me… Only if they were already weaker. But it was truly enjoyable to fight against, because while she acted stupid, she wasn't mindless, and I found a special sort of satisfaction in besting her because of that. One that I didn't feel for a while now. A long while since I last fought an equal who wasn't a mindless beast himself.

I sent the girl into the snow a couple more times, left a few gashes with my dagger. I deliberately didn't hurry to sting her yet, didn't hurry to end this fight, but eventually, I decided that enough was enough.

With a swift stab at her midriff and, when she had to shift on her feet to dodge a sweep of my foot at hers, I sent her sprawling once again. This time, instead of letting her get up, I pressed her back into the snow with a foot I planted on her throat and leaned down to wrench her dagger out of her hand.

In the end, looking into her face, at her full lips, I decided it was a shame to just eat her. I looked down into her wide eyes, toying with that idea, and realised that they weren't as crazed as before now. Mad, certainly, but not frothing-from-the-mouth mad.

"What are you?" the girl rasped. Her hands clawed at the food I planted on her throat in instinctive motions.

"A demon," I was happy enough to explain, because she was pretty, and I was going to eat her. "My name is Voren, but some call me Devourer, because I like to eat… even pretty girls like you. But with you, maybe I will play some more first, if you won't resist too hard."

The girl's eyes went even wider. "Devourer? Oh, holy shit… I can't believe it."

I frowned at the tone of her voice. I didn't like it… that happy disbelief. Disbelief? Acceptable. Happiness? Where that came from?

"The prophecies… they weren't bullshit! It's true. It must be it. You must be it. The one to devour half the world, so the other half… damn. I forgot. Got better? Gah! Let me the fuck go, I can't remember shit when you are holding me down!"