The wind blew over the desolate plain, carrying a smell of dry earth and dust. Lucifer and Aeshma walked side by side, their silhouettes standing out against the misty horizon. Five years of intensive training had transformed the young man into a formidable warrior, and the demoness had regained part of her power thanks to their bond.

Lucifer wore black leather armor, reinforced with metal plates he had forged himself. His silver hair floated in the wind, and his blue eyes scanned the horizon with cold intensity. A longsword hung at his belt, a weapon he had learned to master like an extension of his own body.

Aeshma, at his side, displayed her human form, without her horns or wings. Her black dress hugged her curves, and her chestnut hair with orange reflections cascaded over her shoulders. Her iridescent eyes shone with a mischievous glow, and a smile played on her lips.

"The nearest village is called Valds," she said, her voice light as a breeze. "A small community of about two hundred souls. Farmers, breeders, a few merchants. Nothing very interesting."

Lucifer nodded, his hands tightening on the hilt of his sword. "Perfect. We are going to show them what true despair means."

Aeshma laughed, a crystalline sound that echoed in the silence. "You are so impatient, my dear consort. I love this energy in you."

She moved closer, slipping her hand into his. "Fear is a powerful emotion. The more you sow it, the stronger you become."

"I know," he replied, his gaze hardening. "I have not forgotten what I am fighting for."

...

The village of Valds was peaceful that morning. The farmers were busy in the fields, the children were playing in the dusty streets, and the women were preparing the midday meal in their wooden huts. No one had seen the two figures approaching.

Lucifer stopped at the entrance to the village, his eyes scanning the dwellings, the carefree faces, the children’s laughter. He remembered his mother, his life before. A surge of rage tightened his chest.

"They do not know what awaits them," he murmured.

Aeshma smiled: "So, do you want to start, or shall I start?"

Lucifer did not answer. He drew his sword and advanced, his steps heavy and determined. A farmer saw him coming and opened his mouth to shout, but Lucifer’s blade was already sinking into his chest. The man collapsed without a sound.

The village exploded into panic.

The women screamed, the children ran in all directions, and the men grabbed their pitchforks and knives to try to defend themselves. But Lucifer was too fast, too strong. He struck, slashed, massacred indiscriminately, his eyes shining with a red glow.

The first man who approached him, pitchfork in hand, received a sword blow that severed his arm. He screamed, collapsing in a pool of blood.

"You prayed to the angels?" Lucifer shouted, his voice tearing through the air. "You offered them your sacrifices? You believed they would protect you?"

Another man rushed at him, a butcher knife in hand. Lucifer dodged, plunged his sword into his stomach, and watched him collapse gasping.

"Look at them!" he yelled, his eyes seeking the terrified faces. "They are not coming! Bunch of idiots!"

He struck a third, a fourth, a fifth. Blood splashed his face, his clothes, his hands. Each blow, each death, made something vibrate deep inside him. The mark of the lunar eclipse burned on his back, and he felt the power flowing, a dark energy that made him stronger, faster, more relentless.

"You see?" he shouted at a man who was crawling on the ground, trying to flee. "You see what it feels like to be abandoned?"

He plunged his sword into the man’s back, and the latter collapsed in the dust.

Around him, the villagers had regrouped, forming a defensive circle. Their hands were trembling, their faces were pale, but they held their weapons, ready to fight.

"Kill him!" one of them yelled. "Kill this demon!"

They rushed at him, a wave of fear and despair. Lucifer welcomed them with a cold smile.

He danced among them. Bodies collapsed, screams echoed, and blood soaked the earth. He no longer counted.

...

Aeshma, for her part, had settled on a pile of corpses, not far away. She had crossed her legs, her hands resting on her knees, and observed the carnage with a satisfied smile.

"Magnificent," she murmured, her iridescent eyes following Lucifer’s movements. "You are so beautiful when you fight, my love."

She took out of her pocket an object that shone with a pearly glow: A philosopher’s stone. She turned it between her fingers, a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

"It is time to add a little magic to this party," she said.

She raised the stone toward the sky, and a red light escaped from it, spreading over the battlefield. The bodies of the dead, those that Lucifer had cut down, began to tremble. Then they stood up.

Their eyes were empty, their movements jerky. Immortal creatures, without consciousness in short homunculi. They turned toward the survivors and launched into the attack.

Aeshma watched the scene, her eyes shining with excitement. She stood up, walked on the corpses, her black dress brushing against the lifeless bodies.

"Come here, my dear," she called, her voice melodious. "Let the homunculi finish the work."

Lucifer approached, panting, his sword dripping with blood. He had killed dozens of people. Maybe more. His eyes were still shining with rage, but he smiled when he saw Aeshma.

"It was... exhilarating," he said, his voice deep.

"I told you so." She moved closer, her fingers caressing his blood-covered face. "Fear is a drug, Lucifer. Once you have tasted it, you cannot stop."

She pulled him toward her, her lips meeting his. The kiss was passionate. Lucifer felt the taste of blood on his lips, but he did not care. All that mattered was this moment: Her. This demoness who had seen a flame in him, who had saved him from the darkness only to plunge him into deeper darkness.

"You’re all I need.", Aeshma murmured against his lips.

Around them, the homunculi continued their massacre. The screams had grown spaced out, then had stopped. The village was now nothing more than a field of death, an open-air tomb.

Aeshma pulled back slightly, her hands still resting on Lucifer’s shoulders. She looked at the carnage with obvious satisfaction.

"How many villages like this will it take for you to reach your full power?" he asked.

Aeshma thought for a moment. "Many... But we have time."

She sat down on a pile of corpses, inviting Lucifer to join her. He settled down beside her, his hands resting on his knees, his eyes fixed on the horizon where the sun was beginning to set.

"I would never have imagined that I would end up with a demoness," said Lucifer.