Chapter 880

"Gernos! Even you have betrayed me?!"

In the middle of the battle, Hailmondas suddenly heard cannon fire erupt throughout the Fel Scar. He looked up to see a curtain of artillery shells blotting out the sky.

They weren’t aimed at him.

They were pounding the route taken by the reinforcements rushing to his aid.

Fury twisted through Hailmondas’s battered mind.

He might have been stupid, but he wasn’t stupid enough to misunderstand his situation. After Evenson’s ambush, he had already lost his tail, one arm, part of a wing, and a chunk of his head. Then his enemies had swarmed him from every direction.

Victory was already a distant dream.

He had continued fighting for two reasons.

The first was pride. A lord of the Burning Legion did not simply lie down and die.

The second was time. If he could hold out until the forces loyal to him arrived, perhaps he could turn the tables.

Gernos’s artillery had just destroyed that final hope.

What Hailmondas couldn’t understand was why.

Why would Gernos betray him?

How had that insignificant Gergan demon he’d never even bothered to take seriously become one of the most important pieces on the battlefield at the exact moment it mattered?

What Hailmondas didn’t know was that Gernos had already signed a contract with Evenson—and had vanished from the Fel Scar a long time ago. The fact that Hailmondas knew so little about the abilities of his own subordinates, let alone their movements and loyalties, said everything about the kind of lord he’d been.

If he hadn’t possessed overwhelming personal strength, he would have died years ago.

"Fel Lord Hailmondas," a voice suddenly called from above. "Your tyranny has earned you the hatred of every demon in the Fel Scar."

A massive eyeball floated into view.

Dester.

The demon’s single eye narrowed as he hovered high above the battlefield, looking down at Hailmondas with undisguised contempt.

"You’re..." Hailmondas stared at the enormous eye for several seconds before recognition finally dawned. "Dester."

He paused.

"And what the hell was that supposed to mean? Speak normally. All that fancy crap went right over my head."

"Hmph. Some creatures simply cannot be taught."

Dester’s eyelid peeled fully open.

Violet light gathered within his enormous pupil.

"Then allow me to send you to the Twisting Nether."

A spiraling beam of purple energy erupted from his eye.

Void Compression.

The attack struck Hailmondas squarely in the back.

"AAAAAAAGH!"

The agony was immediate.

Hailmondas had suffered countless wounds over the course of the battle, but none compared to the viciousness of Dester’s attack. For one terrifying instant, he felt as though his very soul were being torn apart, as though one more heartbeat would scatter his existence into nothingness.

Some strange, ethereal voice seemed to echo through his skull.

I believe in you.

I’d like to recommend—

Hailmondas’s battered mind screamed in confusion.

Is this what they call the legendary instant-death eye?!

Somehow, he endured.

Barely.

But surviving the attack also taught him something important.

That floating eyeball was the most dangerous enemy on the field.

Hailmondas immediately began gathering the last remnants of his power into the broken half of his spear. Fel energy surged around the weapon, building toward a devastating blast.

He twisted around, preparing to unleash it.

Then—

Snap.

Something wrapped around the spear.

White spider silk.

It tightened instantly, accompanied by tremendous force.

Hailmondas’s attack was dragged off course.

He turned with difficulty.

There stood the Spider Demon Queen, Sargis.

Silk streamed from both her hands and her mouth as she hauled backward with every ounce of strength she possessed. Her eyes burned with hatred.

"Hailmondas."

Her voice was cold.

"Give me back my children."

"Sargis!"

Hailmondas’s expression changed.

The Spider Demon Queen had once competed against him for the position of lord. She had lost, but the fact that she had been considered a legitimate candidate meant their strength had never been far apart.

With Sargis entering the battle now, Hailmondas finally understood.

He was going to die.

But he refused to die without knowing why.

"Was this all your doing?!"

At first, Hailmondas had believed the Illidari and their warlock allies had launched an assault on the Fel Scar.

But Agatha, Gernos, and Dester had betrayed him one after another.

This wasn’t an outside attack.

It was a coup.

And if Hailmondas had to name the demon in the Fel Scar who hated him most, there were enough candidates to make counting them impossible.

But the one with the greatest hatred—and the strongest ambition to claim his position—was unquestionably Sargis.

"I can hear your heartbeat."

Sargis didn’t answer.

Perhaps leaving him to die without ever learning the truth was the revenge she wanted most.

She pulled hard on the web.

Hailmondas stumbled.

Once, he could have torn the silk apart through sheer strength.

Now he barely had enough power to remain standing.

Sargis seized the opening.

She sprang forward.

The bladed bone wings extending from her back swept through the air.

Slash!

Hailmondas’s remaining arm was severed at the elbow.

Sargis landed lightly.

She turned and spread her enormous bone wings, raising her head with grim pride.

"I will have my revenge."

Her voice rang across the battlefield.

"Because I am the Spider Demon Queen!"

Hailmondas dropped to one knee.

"So... it wasn’t you..."

Perhaps approaching death had finally done what thousands of years of life had failed to accomplish.

His brain started working.

Sargis hated him. She had every reason to want him dead.

But if she had truly orchestrated everything, she wouldn’t have waited this long.

She had spent nearly ten thousand years hiding in the shadows.

And conspiring with demon hunters to assassinate a lord of the Burning Legion wasn’t merely rebellion.

It was treason against the Legion itself.

Sargis had never possessed the courage to take that step alone.

Someone had given her that courage.

Someone had united Agatha, Dester, Gernos, and Sargis—four demons with enough power and ambition to challenge Hailmondas himself.

Someone powerful enough to make them obey.

Someone willing to betray the Legion.

Hailmondas’s expression suddenly changed.

For the first time, realization flashed across his face.

"It’s those two, isn’t it?"

"You know too much."

Agatha’s cheerful expression vanished.

All three of her arms moved at once.

Her curved blades flashed.

She closed the distance and struck.

"Urgh!"

Blood poured from Hailmondas’s mouth.

Three deep cuts formed a clean Y across his chest. The wound was so deep that his enormous heart could be seen beating inside his exposed ribcage.

Sargis approached slowly.

"Thank you for leaving him alive."

She stopped before Hailmondas’s fallen body.

"For giving me the chance to kill him myself."

Her hands seized the edges of the wound.

She began tearing it wider.

"I told you."

Her eyes burned with vicious satisfaction.

"I would kill you with my own hands."

"Urgh..."

Hailmondas laughed hoarsely.

"Haha..."

He completely ignored Sargis’s claws ripping through his chest.

Instead, he looked toward Agatha.

"You should have..."

His voice was weak.

"You should have aimed for my head."

His exposed heart suddenly began beating faster.

Once.

Twice.

Then faster still.

Sargis’s expression changed.

Danger.

She released him and leaped backward, landing several dozen feet away in a defensive stance.

Hailmondas’s body began to swell with unstable power.

He was going to explode.

Like every good abyssal lord facing certain death, Hailmondas had decided that if he couldn’t survive, neither would anyone else.

Snap.

A finger snapped.

For one strange instant, the entire battlefield fell silent.

Hailmondas froze.

The energy he’d gathered inside his heart for the explosion simply dispersed.

He stared in disbelief.

What?

Why had it stopped?

Was there some special technique to dying that he’d somehow missed?

Maybe dying was a skill. Perhaps he simply lacked practice.

He tried again.

Nothing.

His body wouldn’t respond.

His consciousness remained perfectly clear, but his limbs had become completely disconnected from his will.

"What, surprised?"

Evenson walked toward him, one hand raised.

He was the one who had snapped his fingers.

"You really are too stupid."

Evenson’s expression was almost amused.

"Did you never wonder why I spent all that time standing around watching you fight instead of attacking? Did you think I was just too scared to make a move?"

Every demon present—friend and foe alike—had the exact same thought.

Wasn’t he?

"Of course not."

Evenson flatly rejected the accusation.

"I’m a warlock. I know demons. And I know what creatures like you tend to do when death is staring you in the face."

His smile sharpened.

"So naturally, I prepared for it."

"A warlock..."

Hailmondas’s eyes widened.

"You... you dare..."

His mouth barely obeyed him anymore.

"You dare enslave me? How can you—"

"Normally, I couldn’t."

Evenson raised his right hand.

A long, narrow purple dagger rested between his fingers.

A skull drifted into view behind him.

Its jaw moved as it spoke.

"Feels good to be reunited with my cervical vertebrae."

The skull looked toward Hailmondas.

"Oh. An abyssal lord. Excellent. Keep his head. I have a use for it."

Hailmondas stared.

The weapon radiated an unmistakable power.

So did the skull.

"That’s..."

His expression turned to horror.

"A legendary artifact..."

"You know what an artifact is. That’s enough."

Evenson smiled.

"With its help, plus all the time I spent preparing, and the fact that you’re already badly injured and significantly weakened..."

He shrugged.

"I should be able to enslave you for a little while."

He leaned closer.

"I don’t need much time."

His eyes turned cold.

"Just long enough to stop you from blowing yourself up."

"I... won’t..."

Hailmondas struggled.

He tried to force the words out.

I won’t let you.

Then the world spun.

His final sight was of his enormous body collapsing to the ground.

Sargis stood over him.

She licked the blood from one of her claws.

"This time, I aimed for your head."

"Wow. Thanks."

The severed head hit the ground.

The skull floating beside Evenson immediately flew toward it.

"Finally!"

Evenson grabbed the skull before it could reach the corpse.

"Hey! Warlock! We had a deal!"

The skull sounded genuinely offended.

"I said I’d give you the head."

Evenson walked over to Hailmondas’s corpse and picked up the severed head himself.

"I’m giving it to you."

He raised both hands.

Fel fire erupted.

Flesh and skin burned away.

Within moments, only the enormous skull remained.

Evenson examined it.

"Hm."

He tapped one side.

"Not bad."

Then he frowned.

"Too big, though."

The skull was nearly half his height.

"If it weren’t for the size, I’d almost keep it around."

He smiled faintly.

"So we’ll have to improvise."

Evenson’s lips parted.

Green smoke began pouring from every opening in the skull.

He inhaled.

Every wisp of fel energy vanished into his lungs.

His body shuddered.

"Ah..."

His eyes closed.

A smile spread across his face.

It was impossible to tell whether he was enjoying himself or enduring unbearable pain.

Green light spread through the veins in his face.

Then his neck.

His chest.

His arms.

The glow traveled through his entire body.

For an instant, enormous demonic wings burst from his back.

Then they vanished.

Evenson exhaled slowly.

"Hm."

He sniffed once.

Then tossed Hailmondas’s skull aside.

"Now I understand why so many warlocks were obsessed with Gul’dan’s skull."

He grinned.

"That felt pretty damn good."

After the orc warlock Gul’dan died, his skull retained an enormous amount of fel energy. Powerful spellcasters fought over it, desperate to claim the power within.

Eventually, the skull fell into the hands of the demon hunter who needed it most—and who had absolutely no intention of wasting the opportunity.

Illidan Stormrage had absorbed its power, and the strength he gained from it had played a significant role in his later rise.

If Gul’dan’s skull could retain that much power, then the skull of an abyssal lord should have similar potential.

Of course, Hailmondas wasn’t a warlock.

His power hadn’t been concentrated in his skull to the same degree as Gul’dan’s.

Even so, there was plenty left.

And Evenson had no intention of wasting it.

"That means it’s my turn."

The skull drifted toward Hailmondas’s remains.

"Don’t rush me."

Evenson stepped aside.

The skull slipped into the enormous bone structure.

"Bones need maintenance too."

The voice sounded almost offended.

"What’s wrong with wanting to look good? Who decided skulls aren’t allowed to have cosmetic upgrades?"

The enormous skull began shrinking.

Slowly at first.

Then faster.

Until it had returned to roughly the size of the skull that had originally accompanied Evenson.

But there were differences.

Flames now burned brightly from within its eye sockets.

Two enormous abyssal fangs protruded from its jaw.

Evenson stared at it.

"Hm."

The skull immediately noticed.

"What are you looking at?"

It sounded suspicious.

"Your thoughts are dangerous, warlock."

A pause.

"No."

Another pause.

"Don’t come any closer."

Evenson’s grin widened.

"You’ll regret it."

"Come here."

Evenson grabbed the skull.

"Let’s make you a little more... well-rounded."

"Put me down!"

The battlefield had barely finished witnessing the death of an abyssal lord.

Now it had to watch his skull argue with a warlock.

Somehow, Evenson looked far more dangerous than either of them.

...