After butchering and shashing the mages, now it was the time to see what this so called army of strongest knights are made up of.
Lucifer saw them, they aren't only men but also women.
Degenrated for even this twisted world
Who enjoy forbidden act which is set up by this world itself and oppress commoners.
Now it was the time of retribution.
Suddenly Lucifer eyes went cold, so cold that no emotion is flickering from it as he saw 25000 strong army of valient but rotten from core knights or you can say thugs of asher dutchy.
In the Hilly and Rocky hills of Asher Duchy, where Mountains and oppulent plateues met forests under a sky perpetually bruised with storm clouds, an army of 25,000 soldiers had gathered. Men and women from every corner of the duchy—knights in gleaming plate armor, archers with quivers bristling like porcupine spines, infantry clutching spears and shields—stood in disciplined ranks. They were the duchy's finest, summoned by Duke Xavier to defend against the encroaching shadow that legends whispered of: Lucifer, the torturer and butcher, come to claim what he deemed,his revenge for raping his mother and sister 3 years ago which he was unaware of. The air was thick with the scent of polished steel and nervous sweat, banners of azure and gold snapping in the wind. Trumpets blared a challenge, but no response came from the horizon. The soldiers gripped their weapons tighter, hearts pounding in unison, unaware that death itself approached not with fanfare, but with silent, inexorable purpose.
Lucifer standing at the middle of square of the town along whit mephis and allen, a towering figure wreathed in an aura of cold void. His skin was pale as moonlit marble, eyes like twin abysses devoid of light or emotion. Clad in simple black robes that billowed like smoke, he held a cleaver that seemed to absorb the fading daylight—its blade wide as a man's torso, etched with runes that pulsed faintly with infernal energy. He regarded the army not with hatred or glee, but with the indifference of a butcher surveying a pen of livestock. There was no speech, no declaration of war. In his mind, these were not warriors; they were meat to be processed, obstacles to be removed with mechanical efficiency. He moved forward, his steps deliberate, covering ground in strides that blurred the line between walking and flight. The first ranks barely had time to register his presence before the carnage began.
The assault unfolded in ruthless sequence, Lucifer's cleaver a extension of his unfeeling will. He targeted the front line first—a phalanx of 500 heavy infantry, shields interlocked like scales on a dragon. Without a word, he closed the distance in a heartbeat. Shaaakkh! The blade descended, not to kill outright, but to maim. He gauged eyes with precise thrusts, the cleaver's tip piercing sockets in rapid succession. A burly sergeant screamed Aaaaaaaaa! as his world went black, hot blood streaming down his face like tears he could no longer shed. Beside him, a young woman knight clutched at her ruined orbits, wailing Uuuhhhhhh! in blind agony. Lucifer showed no pause, no flicker of satisfaction. Emotionless, he transitioned to the next phase: limbs. Chopp! Arms were severed at the shoulders, legs at the knees, falling to the grass like felled branches. The soldiers, now eyeless and crippled, thrashed on the ground, their screams a chorus of Raaaaaaaahhhkk! as Lucifer completed the ritual. Slashh! From crown to groin, he bisected them, bodies parting like overripe fruit, innards spilling in steaming heaps. Guts coiled on the earth, hearts still beating feebly in exposed chests. In seconds, the phalanx was reduced to quivering halves, the ground already slick with the first outpourings of blood.
He pressed on, deeper into the ranks, his method unchanging. Ruthlessness defined every motion—no mercy for the strong, no pity for the weak. A cluster of archers, perhaps 300 strong, nocked arrows in frantic haste, but Lucifer was upon them before strings could twang. Cut! Eyes first, always eyes, to rob them of aim and hope. A veteran bowman howled Aaaaaaaaa! as his vision exploded in red pain, his bow clattering useless. Lucifer's cleaver danced with cold precision, Shaaakkh!, popping orbs like grapes underfoot. Then limbs: Chopp! Bows clattered as arms were hacked away, fingers still twitching in severed hands. The archers collapsed, limbless torsos wriggling like worms, their cries a guttural Uuuhhhhhh! of despair. Finally, the bisecting slash—Slashh!—splitting them vertically, spines cracking like dry twigs, blood fountaining in arcs that painted the nearby soldiers scarlet. Lucifer's face remained a mask of stone, his breaths even, as if this were mere labor, not slaughter.
The army's center, a vast sea of 10,000 mixed troops—spearmen, swordsmen, and cavalry dismounted for the stand—surged forward in a desperate countercharge. Horns blew, officers bellowed orders, but Lucifer waded in like a reaper through grain. He isolated groups of fifty at a time, his speed defying mortal comprehension. Shaaakkh! Eyes gauged in blurred thrusts, a dozen pairs ruined in a single sweep. Men and women alike screamed Raaaaaaaahhhkk!, clutching faces turned to bloody masks. Limbs next: Chopp! Cleaver rising and falling, severing at joints with the efficiency of a slaughterhouse blade. Arms pinwheeled through the air, legs buckled under torsos now propped on stumps. The maimed fell, their wails a symphony of Aaaaaaaaa! and Uuuhhhhhh!, begging for death that Lucifer delivered without haste or hesitation. Slashh! Bisecting cuts from head to base, bodies unfolding like bloody books, organs tumbling free in wet slaps against the earth. He treated them as pigs in a pen, chickens on the block—no recognition of their humanity, just flesh to be quartered.
Minutes ticked by—ten, perhaps—yet the toll mounted relentlessly. Lucifer's cleaver never dulled, its edge drinking in the vitae without stain, though blood clung to its surface in glistening beads. A battalion of elite guards, 1,000 strong and clad in enchanted mail, attempted a formation to encircle him. They chanted war cries, shields raised like a wall of iron. But Lucifer pierced the line effortlessly. Cut! Eyes first, the cleaver's point driving through visors and helms, popping globes in sprays of vitreous fluid. A female captain roared Aaaaaaaaa! as darkness claimed her, her sword arm flailing blindly. Shaaakkh! Limbs severed next, mail links parting like thread under the blade's force. Arms and legs piled up like cordwood, the guards collapsing into heaps of squirming meat. Their screams echoed Uuuhhhhhh!, raw and animalistic, as Lucifer finished them. Chopp! Bisecting slashes, Slashh!, turning armored warriors into bisected husks, armor clanging as halves separated. Guts looped over shields, livers and spleens exposed to the open air. Lucifer's expression never wavered—blank, ruthless, a void where empathy should reside.
The left flank crumbled next, 5,000 skirmishers and light infantry scattering in panic. But there was no escape; Lucifer's pursuit was inexorable. He herded them like sheep to the slaughter, isolating stragglers and clusters. Shaaakkh! Eyes gauged with unerring accuracy, a young recruit's cry of Raaaaaaaahhhkk! piercing the din as he clawed at empty sockets. Cut! Limbs hacked away, bodies toppling like felled trees, stumps spurting blood in rhythmic pulses. The maimed crawled, dragging themselves through growing puddles of gore, their howls a blend of Aaaaaaaaa! and Uuuhhhhhh!. Lucifer loomed over them, emotionless as a machine, delivering the final Slashh!—bisecting from scalp to pelvis, spines splintering, bladders and bowels voiding in final indignity. The grass turned to mud, churned by thrashing forms and soaking crimson.
By the twentieth minute, half the army lay in ruin, yet Lucifer's pace never faltered. The right flank, another 5,000, mounted a futile volley of javelins and arrows. Projectiles whistled through the air, but he weaved through them like smoke, closing in. Chopp! Eyes first, the cleaver thrusting to blind entire rows. Archers and throwers screamed Aaaaaaaaa!, weapons dropping from nerveless hands. Shaaakkh! Limbs severed in sweeping arcs, arms and legs littering the field like discarded refuse. The crippled writhed, their cries Uuuhhhhhh! merging into a wall of sound. Slashh! Bisecting finishes, bodies cleaved open, hearts exposed and quivering before stilling. Lucifer stepped over the piles, his boots squelching in viscera, face impassive amid the horror.
Deeper into the core, where reserves of 3,000 held, panic spread like wildfire. Soldiers broke ranks, fleeing toward the duchy's forests, but Lucifer cut them down mid-stride. Cut! Eyes gauged as they ran, turning flight into blind stumbling. A group of women warriors turned to fight, swords raised defiantly, but Shaaakkh! robbed them of sight, their battle cries twisting into Raaaaaaaahhhkk! of terror. Chopp! Limbs gone, they fell to knees that no longer existed, torsos flopping. Slashh! Bisected, their forms splayed open, blood pooling in depressions where bodies had compacted the earth.
The rear guard, 500 healers and support staff, unarmed and trembling, offered no resistance. Yet Lucifer's ruthlessness knew no bounds. Shaaakkh! Eyes first, even for those who begged on knees. Healers screamed Aaaaaaaaa!, hands raised in futile supplication. Cut! Limbs severed, turning caregivers into helpless wrecks. Their wails Uuuhhhhhh! filled the air as Slashh! completed the task, bisecting them amid scattered herbs and bandages now soaked red.
As the thirtieth minute passed, the field was a charnel house. Bodies lay in layers, the living crawling over the dead in vain attempts to escape. Lucifer moved through it all, his cleaver a blur of death. A final push from the command tent—Duke Elandor himself with his personal guard of 200—charged forth. The duke bellowed defiance, sword gleaming. But Lucifer reached them in an instant. Chopp! Eyes gauged, the duke's roar becoming Raaaaaaaahhhkk! as blindness overtook him. Shaaakkh! Limbs hacked, the guard collapsing around their leader. Slashh! Bisected one by one, the duke last, his halved form twitching as life ebbed.
The remaining scattered pockets—stragglers, the wounded pretending death—were hunted down methodically. Cut! Eyes, Shaaakkh! limbs, Chopp! bisect. Screams faded as numbers dwindled: Aaaaaaaaa!, Uuuhhhhhh!, Raaaaaaaahhhkk!. By the fortieth minute, silence began to creep in, broken only by the wet sounds of cleaver meeting flesh.
In the final ten minutes, Lucifer swept the field, ensuring no survivor. His movements were as precise as at the start, ruthlessness undiminished. The last soldier, a lone woman archer hiding in the grass, met the same fate: eyes gauged with Slashh!, limbs chopped with Shaaakkh!, bisected with Chopp!. Her final Aaaaaaaaa! echoed into nothingness.
Exactly fifty minutes after it began, the slaughter ended. Lucifer stood alone amid the devastation. The ground of Asher Duchy was a vast expanse painted red with crimson blood, rivers of it carving furrows through the earth, soaking into the soil until it squelched underfoot. Piles of mutilated remains—eyesless heads, severed limbs, bisected torsos—formed grotesque mounds, entrails draped like garlands over the carnage. The air reeked of copper and voided bowels, a miasma that would linger for generations. Lucifer's cleaver glistened with the slick red of blood, droplets dripping from its edge in slow, deliberate plops, joining the sea below.
No horror in the world could compare to this scene—a testament to utter mercilessness, where 25,000 lives were extinguished not in battle, but in systematic butchery. Lucifer turned away, emotionless as ever and came to Allen and said "did you recorded everything carefully?"
Allen who was just a few seconds away from pissing in his pants, said whit shiviring body as well as mouth "yes master".
Lucifer turned towards the crowd of common people and said " Do you still believe that I will loose to this impotent who can't even impregnate his own wife and daughters but relay on others?".
Then he turned around and said with a playfull but chilly and cold tone "let's see.
Mages down,adventurers down,army and knights are down,but what remains of that is only cavalry of horses without soilders or knight. Xavier, do you now going to fight me with horses?"
" Didn't I suppose to get a proper fight?"
"Actually you know just like you get orgasms by oppresaing commoners and merchents,raping others women,raping your own women,and extorting others."
"I also get orgasms when I kill a scum like you,
Your family, your wives, daughters, sons or your people".
" Now the outer cleaning is completed but what remains is this dutchy "ASHER FAMILY"
which I'm going to clean in front of my mother and sister".
He turned toward defeated cavalry where only horses remains but no soilders and said.
"You two mares, silver and ash grey come to me and rest of you go back in your barn or stables by yourself as no soilders remain to take care of you".
As if they can understand him both of them came to him and neigh.
" Neeeh-heee-hee"
" Wwhiiiinneeehee"
He glanced at them and said "mephis like you both so from today , you with silver coat is Ysoria and you with ash grey coat, you are opaline"
"So I guess welcome to my family, now Mephis go with allen along with both of them and bring everyone in my band here.
I want to kill these asher's in front of my mother and sister".
" Till then I'll reside in their ducal home and savour their hospitality".
"Now move and come back fast"
Lucifer said and without turning back to them he moved towards asher's ducal palace.