Chapter 128: THE SHORT LIVED VICTORY
The silence after the closure of the vortex was closed was painful.
There were no screams, no screeches.
Varziel hovered in the air, holding Arella in his arms. Her staff had disappeared after the eyes peeking through a crack disappeared. His hands were hooked below her knees, and her head rested on the crook of his neck.
Her halos were spinning slower, their glow faint. Below them the demons who had joined in on the fight stood battered. They held weapons in their hands, and many had collapsed to their knees from exhaustion.
Varziel’s gaze swept over them all, his soldiers, demons, many of who were considered low ranked demons. Few of the high lords would leave their homes, and many of them lived away from the palace.
Those who were present looked up at him, waiting.
There was no more sickly green tearing through the sky, no more intruders falling from the sky. He could now rest easy.
His grip on Arella tightened slightly as he lowered them slowly. He stopped just when they were close enough to the ground that the weary demons could hear his voice.
"Thank you." Varziel said simply, eyes landing on the generals who had fought with him. General Thaluzar’s hulking frame stood close to the front. His ashen gray skin was dotted with fresh wounds that he did not seem to take notice of. His hammer still had that blue flame burning at the tip.
General Nyssa stood a few paces away from him, Her hair had, at some point, fallen out of its ponytail and fell to her ankles in soft white waves. She did not look like she had just gone through a battle.
On the far end of the gathered demons were General Lilithia and her sorcerer battalion. Her lips were pulled down in a frown, and Varziel was sure she was itching to ask questions about how they had managed to close the portal, where she and her sorcerers had failed.