Ruger raised an eyebrow. This fellow really was tenacious. Perhaps it was just as people had always said: only demons with intelligence were true demons, able to suppress their instincts on the Flesh-and-Blood Battlefield, stubborn and difficult to deal with.
Ruger glanced over, chose one that looked appealing, then waved a hand, accepting the two-headed fellow's offering.
According to legend, a Wizard had once cultivated a tree that grew demon hearts. Watered with just a little demon blood, it bore fruit all year round-a whole tree laden with demon hearts. Supposedly, though, that Wizard used them to feed a familiar that enjoyed devouring demon hearts.
Wizard Zorn had mentioned this once while drunk, back at that rat's lovely inn, so Ruger guessed that the Wizard in question might also have followed a path similar to that of a Beast King Wizard.
Ruger and his party of demons stepped over the corpses, one after another, but the bodies seemed endless. After crossing a rise, they looked ahead and saw many more, though the fallen were no longer arranged quite so neatly.
These demons could not compare to the vast host Ruger and the others had marched with day and night, but their numbers were certainly too great for them to have gathered by chance.
Ruger looked toward the Succubus lord sitting blankly atop a tall mound in the distance.
He strongly suspected that these demons had been her subordinates, and that she had killed them herself.
Perhaps she had grown sick of the Flesh-and-Blood Battlefield, or perhaps she had rejected these foolish demons. The fallen all seemed to belong to kinds that rarely produced an intelligent individual.
As the terrain rose and fell, they looked up and saw the fallen demons stretching toward the Succubus lord, like a broad, long carpet