The Demon King's Hero Of Light 1 Chapter 1 The Demon Pi

"Hey, Dirk, come help load this wagon around back," called a voice from inside the store, and one of the people bid farewell to the other and left. The second left soon after. She watched as fancy boots made their way across the dirt street to a carriage.

Not wasting the opportunity, she wiggled out from under the porch and dashed towards the alley where she would be able to make a clean getaway.

"Not so fast," said a voice, and suddenly, she was in the air. Someone had her by the back of the shirt, and she suddenly found herself staring into the red eyes of a demon. "You look old enough for training. How old are you, brat?"

His breath smelled like brimstone, and burned her cheeks. Gritting her teeth, she slashed out with the knife she kept in her sleeve, cutting his arm. With a yelp of pain, he dropped her, and she scurried towards the alley. Ducking behind the pile of garbage that took up the entire end of the alley, she pulled open the small door she had hidden with rotting leaves, and shoved herself into the smelly interior. There was a wooden crate in the middle that she called home.

"Where did that brat go?" he growled fiercely.

"You can't kill it, we've got to take something to turn in, or we'll be whipped.

Aella clutched her basket to her, and focused on making her breathing as quiet as possible. The entire top of the garbage heap went flying, splattering against the wall in the back, and she found herself looking up at the red eyes again. Beside him, another demon stood, smoking a cigar and looking bored. Their skin was dark blue, almost purple, and horns sprouted from their heads.

She darted to escape, but they caught her as she struggled over the trash.

"Sure it's not too young? Seems small."

"It cut me," he growled, wrenching her arm painfully.

"Fine, whatever. Let's go."

Within minutes she was shoved into a wagon, tied to the side so she couldn't escape, with her knife taken away. The ride to the training grounds was long. They refused to acknowledge her, so she peed her pants, and was very thirsty and hungry when they arrived.

"Got another one for you," said the burly one she had cut.

"Looks human," said the new demon. He grabbed her head roughly and rubbed her scalp. "No, there's horns there. Just small. Might be too young."

"Just take the brat. She's vicious. Cut my arm, and it's infected."

"Poor baby," crooned the demon holding her head in a vise-like grip. "We'll throw her in the first years and just see if she survives. If she does, I'll pay ya."

The two who had brought her grumbled, but didn't refuse. Aella fought at the rope that held her hands, just like she did when they first tied her up. They were looser, but her hands were raw, and swollen. When he untied her, he kept a tight grip on her long black hair, causing her to growl in the back of her throat in pain.

She stumbled across the ground to a pit. Below her, she could see young demons, about the ages of six and seven, fighting each other. They held all sorts of wooden weapons. Some were already b.l.o.o.d.y, and a few were laying still, as if dead.

The drop was almost twenty feet. Thankfully, she was able to reach out and grab at the dirt side, slowing her fall somewhat. The other kids stopped only briefly, to glance her way, but most ignored her, continuing to fight.

"She's late to the game." Another demon stepped up, next to the three who were watching.

"If she survives to be taken for training, these two dimwits will get paid. If not…" he only chuckled.
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Aella didn't care about them. All she knew, was that she had to survive. She didn't care about being trained, or anything else those demons said. Her whole life revolved around surviving.

Pulling the knife out of her boot, that she couldn't reach before, she studied the walls of the pit carefully. There was no way she would be able to climb out. Other demons watched from above to ensure that none of them made it out. She studied the other kids, some of which had noticed her as a new element. They were beating each other up. There was no skill involved, only fierce determination to survive. They were all demons here, not humans or other races.

Swallowing the blood that oozed from her split lip, she couldn't afford to lose any more fluids, she crouched low to keep the ones approaching her from having a good target. They held sticks. She had a real knife.

Dodging the first swing, she ducked under the second and shoved her blade into his stomach. He gasped and dropped like a rock. Ignoring him, she turned to the first, who was swinging again, and ducked under her blow, stabbing her in the side. She fell too.

Aella danced away from them, in case they tried to trip her, and flicked the green blood off her blade. Others had noticed her, and were coming. There was a group of five, that were working together. They had some kind of system going, that had worked against a lot of the other kids already. She could tell they were friends and had probably practiced a lot. The odds were stacked against her.

She grinned at them, confident they were going to get hurt. She would be hurt, but pain was temporary. She just didn't want it to be the only thing she knew. Her confidence confused them, so she struck first.

Her knife slashed the first one's cheek, a girl with pretty red curls. Then it bounced off a boy's leather gauntlet, to cut his upper sleeve and his arm to the bone, before she jerked it back, spinning on her heel to miss the blow that another boy had aimed at her, and stabbed his knee.

When he fell to the ground screaming, her knife slipped out of her hand. Too much blood on the grip had made it slippery. Kicking the next kid in the crotch, she wiped her hand off on the girls back, who was busy holding her bleeding cheek and screaming. Then she slid past the kid who had her knife stuck in his knee and jerked it out, slicing another kid in the stomach as she did.

The rest of the kids backed away from her, scared of her viciousness, as she crouched, waiting for the next one to attack. She was breathing hard, and adrenaline was the only thing keeping her up.

"I suppose she's not too young. Sure she hasn't been trained already? Those are some pretty sweet moves."

"Naw, we found her living in a trash heap out near the boundary. Probably a miscarriage that survived. It about takes those skills to survive the monsters out there."

"Eh, I've been on the boundary itself and never saw any monster that required skill like that. She's rough on a few things, but it looks like she's been taught the beginnings of military combat. Better get ahold of the Sergeant."

One of the new demons ran off, while she glared at the other kids. They went back to fighting each other, avoiding her whenever possible. She didn't mind at all. Pulling a rag out of her pocket, she carefully cleaned her knife, making sure they knew she was still watching them. She didn't dare put it away, though, that would be stupid.

The kids she had hurt, crawled away from her, or lay crying and whimpering where they had fallen. None of the adults came to help them.

Fifteen minutes later a large muscled demon, with large red horns and a dark, almost black skin, stepped up to the edge of the pit.

"That her?" he asked, pointing to her.

"Yes, sir," said the one that had grabbed her head and checked for horns.

He didn't say another word. Jumping into the pit, and landing as if he had jumped off a two-foot ledge, he walked up to her. The kids scattered like leaves, not even attempting to hide their fear. She took a stance, holding her knife backwards to be able to slice him easier, and growled.

He didn't even flinch when she stabbed him in the arm, merely grabbed her by the scruff of her neck, and threw her over his shoulder, before crouching and jumping out of the pit. She was so stunned, she stopped fighting him for a moment. Her nails were filled with his skin, where she had clawed lines into his back. Blood ran down freely, staining his shirt. She leaned down to bite him, when she was suddenly falling. He had thrown her.

Rolling on the ground, she tried to get up, but dirt was in her eyes and mouth, and she was dizzy from the rolling. Cold metal clicked onto her wrists and ankles before she knew it. Wiping the dirt from her eyes, she watched as the Sergeant stepped back, then pulled her knife out of his arm.