Conquest Of The Fallen: Dark Dominions

Chapter 129: Ave Dominus Nox!

• Ten Minutes Before •

AYA NAAMAH waited patiently on her [Sire] in the spacious room she had all to herself. Her would-be roommate, a pesky vampiress, spent more time in her boyfriend's shack than in the dorm. And so Aya had outdone herself in preparing the room for Rafel's arrival.

'Lord Master would love the serenity. Copenhägen is far quieter than the other halls.'

This was her frame of mind as she sat calmly in a long cream sofa; the fireplace was already going. One look at the room and anyone could tell the theme was the [Underworld], and a cruel guess at the visitor for the night being a demon.

Aya had exchanged the dowdy chandelier above, formerly with diamond drops, for brittle glass of purple in shapes of scorpion tails. The haloes of luminescence it cast on the chamber gave it an ethereal glow. The pillows of the bed in the room just off the partition were lilac and robust, very openly hinting at the sculpt of a woman's body.

Her body.

'Lord Master would just love this,' she applauded herself. She had also gone all out and now sat in her comfortable blue skin, violet eyes, silver horns, a hugging qipao that glued firmly to her generous assets, long black heels with spikes and skulls shorn all over, and a gaze that would forever lure men to unfathomable lusts.

It had been a while since her [Sire] had mated his [Bond], pounded her voluptuous body full of his seed, and just thinking about the way Israfel's golden form would move atop hers made Aya dip a finger in her mouth and circle the tip over the pointy peaks of her swaying bosom jutting out the sensual gown.

"Uum, Lord Master," she moaned, already feeling his strokes and fantasizing about gripping to his strong arms as they fucked. "Maybe he'll let me touch him tonight."

On her lower belly, right on the tease of skin that led down to her divine womanhood, was Rafel's demon mark on her. A seal of Hel. It glowed bright purple and dimmed again. 'Shit, I'm really horny,' the gorgeous succubus wiggled her ass into the sofa, clamping her fat thighs firmly.

Squish!

She leaked onto the surface. Forgetting herself in the throes of anticipation and frustration, Aya went down on her knees before the sofa to lick at her own wetness.

Her prodigious butt cheeks swayed in the infernal light of the hearth, and her forked tongue stretched out, just to lap at her lust juices, the depraved depth of sin shimmering in her pupils when she heard the crash.

BANG!

And all the lights went out, in her room too. Aya heard swift voices and a shrill scream of fight.

"Holy shit! Demon versus werewolf!" She heard just outside her dorm room's door. It sounded like the person who had spoken was running past.

Demon? Aya thought.

Her back instantly straightened.

This was a school of magical novices. Even the finalist [Fourth Years] of the Academy were not potent enough of intrinsic mana to command a total blackout. Aya knew of only one DEMON who could pull grand level shit like that.

"Lord Master!"

Curse [Fortuna] that she had invited him over just this moment. The very man that was supposed to be opening the door and pulling her into his lap for a good night to use their mouths on each other, vigorously. "Shit. Shit. Shit." Aya muttered, jumped to her feet and rushed through the door. She did not bother with the keycard.

She phased right through, pulling on the LEGENDARY [Nightwalker] ability she had inherited off Lord Lucifer.

Her form burned deep purple as she reemerged outside, in the hallway.

"FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!" People were yelling just few meters away.

A circle were gathered round a spectacle, and the crowd blocked her line of sight. Aya reached the throng of students just as a resounding echo of a body smashing into the floors hit the hallway. The panes of the corridors vibrated. "Oooh!" The crowd gasped, many falling back. Aya heard a tortured yelp.

It was the sound of a hurt dog.

She pushed her way through the gathering in time to see a great, frightening man; a giant, stand in a cloud—no, clouds, of rushing darkness. It was a blanket at his feet, cascading and rippling like snakes up his legs and torso. This man was made larger than life in the total blackout of the hallway, in his throne of darkness and eerie mist.

It was only to pulsing glow of his rich crimson mana that spared the way with light enough to see.

This man of darkness was seven feet tall. . .and he was Lord Master.

Rafel's eyes were all black.

He held a whimpering shewolf at his fingertips. Her neck struggled against his fist, but she was a chicken in the jaws of a tiger. Any defiance was futile. With his arm up in the air, Skyla dangled from his clutch like a wet rag. Aya pushed through the crowd to get in front. She saw faint traces of claw marks on the left half of Rafel's face and knew.

. .

'The stupid bitch had drawn blood.'

Skyla was both a bitch for daring, and a bitch because, well; she was also a female lupine.

Seeing Rafel totally dominate her in asphyxiation, showing his much more superior strength, Aya was tempted to let the girl die at his hands. The domain Rafel now existed in was the pits of the Abyss. It was shared by all [Rank A] Hellions: a specific body adaptation to utterly destroy an opponent when blood was drawn. In this level, Rafel wouldn't stop until Skyla was dead.

Unless someone with an akin darkness interfered.

Aya Naamah had retracted her tail and horns at her speedy exit from her room, but now, dire circumstances demanded she shift again to her succubian origins.

Increasing a foot more in height; standing at six feet of sinful fantasy and voluptuous flesh, Aya moved calmly out the crowd of stricken spectators. Everyone had quit laughing, seeing that the girl up in the air could very well die. Skyla was lurching with her auburn mane of hair already sleeping down her back. She was slipping out.

Aya quickly intervened. She maneuvered into the shadows, stepping into the sentient darkness of Rafel's creation. The umbras deemed her as one of the [Dark Childs] and didn't immediately suck the soul out of her.

She didn't stop until she was right before Rafel's towering stature.

She reached only to his chest. He was freakish, demon tall.

In her blue skin, horns, goth stilts, and seductive allure, Aya dropped to her knees before Rafel.

"AVE DOMINUS NOX!" she chanted. "My Lord forgive her."

A thunderstorm of a voice, clapping so hard in the darkness people shut their ears with their hands, said, "She had dared. . . the feeble mortal."

"Ave Dominus Nox!" she repeated, lowering her head.

"Hail the Lord of Night!" A girl in braces close by interpreted. She too lowered to the ground, and soon everyone in the hallway was dropping to their knees, chanting. Copenhägen Hall was turned into the likeness of a cult of Persephone, or an entire village compelled by an Elder Vampire.

"Ave Dominus Nox!"

"Ave Dominus Nox!"

"Ave Dominus Nox!"

Students clutched hands to their breasts and whispered, begging the life of one who would die.

Skyla was on her last breath when Rafel let go. She fell hard to the floor in a heap. She took great lungfuls, wheezing and caressing the red marks on her throat. But she knew she was to blame: she drew first blood—not necessarily accessing the rank of her opponent as Coach Tanaka had always taught. To be sincere, not being dead was a mercy.

Seconds later, when she could eventually speak, Skyla went on her knees also.

"Ave Dominus Nox!" she bowed.

Rafel's black eyes cleared. It was a thing of pain for a [Rank A] Hellion to deny his [Dire Trait]. Continue your adventure with m|v-l'e -NovelBin.net

Real, visceral pain.

Rafel shut his eyes to combat the burning in his head.

The lights came on, flickering bit by bit, from the distant ends of the hall, brightening all the kneeling faces in a ghostly pallor.

Aya stood and hugged him. Her soft tail curled into his upper thigh. "Come, Dominus. Let us leave these mundane."

Rafel grabbed her hard into himself. "Are you certain to take on their punishment for interfering?"

Aya put her in head into his chest. "Take me as you will, Dominus."

Just before the lamp right over his head lit again, Rafel dissolved into the remnant darkness. As the corridors beamed, now fully bright, the students all began rising to their feet. All in Hall Copenhägen were certain of one fact now; that the wild redhead was no ordinary demon.

They would guess for a fortnight and forever—but would never guess the Apollyon.