Calhoun who was on the above floor felt the change in Madeline energy.
He pulled the demon he was fighting with, placing the gun in the demon’s smiling mouth before pulling the trigger as the silver bullets were loaded into the demon’s body. Dropping the body, he was ready to jump to the ground floor when he caught sight of the werewolf that was outside, howling at the moon.
“Raphael!” Calhoun shouted, gaining the card reader’s attention. He fished his hand in his pocket before throwing the blue liquid that was in the glass vial at Raphael. Raphael looked at the glass vial while dodging the demon’s attack who had been engaging him in a fight. By the time he looked up at where Calhoun was, the king had disappeared.
The demon, Greyson, on seeing Madeline’s dark angel abilities unleashed with wings on her back, he decided to leave her in the hands of his minions until he would find an opening to attack her. He took hold of his gun, loading it as he stepped away, when he heard Calhoun speak from behind,
“Too scared to face her?”
Greyson didn’t wait to chat as he shot Calhoun with his gun. Two of the bullets lodged themselves into Calhoun’s chest. Blood started to drip down from Calhoun’s body, but Calhoun appeared unaffected by it.
The demon’s eyes narrowed, “The bullets do not affect you.”
Calhoun used his hand to pull out the bullet and then throw it on the ground. He walked towards the demon, his footsteps steady. At the same time, the demon used his ability to produce shock-like thunderbolts at Calhoun to stop him from advancing further.
“Nobody can stand against the thunderbolts,” laughed Greyson, increasing the pressure to have Calhoun cough out blood. Calhoun had tasted a similar pain in the past, and it was when he had touched Madeline’s hand when she was not able to control her dark angel abilities.
“You were thrown out of heaven with the rest of them, isn’t it? The indecisive ones,” Calhoun spat the blood and nullified the effect of bolts of thunder that had run through his body.
“Who cares about that,” said Greyson, and his eyes fell on the rod on the ground. Raising his hand, the rod came flying to his hand.
Within a second, Greyson relentlessly went on attacking Calhoun, making the King know how powerful of a demon he was and was only trying to be cautious in the presence of the dark angel. Calhoun used his own ability to throw the demon at the wall that left a huge hole, sending the demon flying outside, who fell on the snow ground.
Calhoun jumped down on the ground as elegantly as a cat and stood on his feet.
“You seem to have some high-level ability there. Where did you receive it from?” asked Greyson, spitting the blood from his mouth because of the attack he took from Calhoun.
“You would be surprised,” smiled Calhoun.
While Calhoun and Greyson fought with each other, Fjor, on the other hand, had taken himself to sit on top of the building, watching them fight. The two men punched and kicked each other, trying to get the other killed.
Calhoun used his foot to kick the demon’s face, and one of the demon’s teeth fell out.
Greyson, who fell on the ground, placed his hands on the cold snow, and soon sharp icicles popped up from the ground beneath Calhoun’s body, making him jump away from one place to another as Greyson was trying to nail him through the icicles.
Calhoun used his ability, drawing fire from the closest source, and soon fire blazed around him and on the ground, turning the snow to a puddle of water, making it impossible for Greyson to kill him through the icicles. A smug smile appeared on Calhoun’s face.
Irked, Greyson said, “Do you think that would help?” and he created icicles in thin air before throwing a lot of them at Calhoun. Suddenly black wings spread from Calhoun’s back and it protected him from the sharp ice that crashed against the wings.
Greyson looked shocked and caught sight of the wings being pulled away from each other to reveal Calhoun. Fjor, who was relaxing, leaned forward on the sight of the black wings.
“Not taking part, Fjor?” asked someone from behind, and the demon turned around to see a pair of legs. When his eyes moved up, his eyes widened, and he almost tumbled down from the roof.
“Master!” exclaimed Fjor looking at Vladimir. In shock, Fjor placed his forehead on the cold surface of the bricked tile. The devil watched Calhoun and his underling demon fight on the ground. Greyson sprouted his bat-like wings.
“I was only watching, Master!” Fjor then lifted his head, “W-what are you doing here? I thought you were-“
“Dead?” asked Vladimir, “Silly bug, the devil never dies. I was looking for someone. You don’t suppose you saw any person who has grey eyes with long horse-like hair that is grey, have you?”
Horse-like hair? Fjor shook his head.
Vladimir hadn’t bothered to take part in the fight as it looked like his grandson and his granddaughter-in-law were doing fine. Arriving here, he had gone in search of Paschar, wanting to take a jib for old times sake, but the angel seemed to be nowhere around.
“What have you been up to, Fjor? It has been a long time since we last spoke,” Vladimir brought his hand up and stared at his sharp nails, “Anything interesting that I need to know?”
Even with the cold weather, it looked like Fjor was ready to start sweating in the presence of the devil. Not knowing what else to say, the demon replied, “Master, Greyson has been trying to raise an army in Hell, trying to replace your position.”
“And what have you been trying to do in the meantime? Catching flies?” questioned Vladimir, his red eyes not leaving the sight of his grandson.
